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ry good at picking out what one city had that the next one
down the line would need, even after a year's absence. My mother, with Yuka's
deep red skin, slanted eyes and straight, black hair, was exotic in many of
the cities and men would flock to Yuka's like flies on butter. Much the same
they did with me many years ago.
We were a friendly bunch most of the time but we tended to take it
very carefully on the road. A good plan considering how many brigands ther
were out there interested in lightening our loads. The greatest travel we
ever took was from Ticonary to Emti, a rough road through a mountain pass
that usually took twenty days or thereabouts. We weren't to know it, but
the Maple Campaign to the north of us had driven a barbarian horde of
Centaurs into the mountain range for refuge. These were no gentle Centaurs
of the upper valleys. No, these were the Gespil Centaurs, those small,
powerful, magicless Centaur warriors who still plague those lands.
They fell upon us in our sleep. Crossbows
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