Summary : ' Chewing A Little Fat With The Mind Readers '

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Chapter Fourteen Chewing a Little Fat with the Mind Readers An assortment of pathways led up and into the mountain. Some were dead ends. Others were misleading routes that continued into nothingness. Aragon had promised to guide us up through the winding turns and tight, dizzying loops, clear of the larger and more dangerous monsters. But his path didn’t seem all that safe to me. Far below, there were huge beasts with gaping lesions and twisted limbs channeling the power of Thorn, drawing so deeply on his magic, I could feel them preparing to lash out with illusions of lightning and gusts of wind. Above me, winged, black birds swirled through the air, screeching and diving at a small group of elves. We passed at least a dozen battles raging on the slope. It was as if the caretakers of a crypt had resurrected warriors and ordered them to unleash their wrath on the forces of gloom. An elderly cyclops was in the lead, wearing a long beaver skin coat, swinging a club in one hand and a bloody sword in the other. He hit a goblin on the head, then poked an imp in the rump, causing him to fall face first into the mud. Two ogres in smoldering blue bathrobes hobbled beside him. One of the duffers tossed fireballs into the sky, cremating the black birds while the other plopped down on his bum and began passing gas. “The queen’s warriors are trying to force the evil beasts back into the Forbidden Forest where they belong,” Aragon explained. “But they kill one and two take its place.”

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