### 178

The greasy grey body is naked save for a loincloth of filthy animal hide, soaked with the black blood that gushed from its wound. In a taloned hand it grips the blowpipe, rudely fashioned from a Meledorian's thighbone. Odel curses this dead spawn of chaos and rises to his feet, clearly disturbed by what he has seen. He suggests that you head for Tolakos straight away.

Turn to 185.

Text copyright © 1987 Joe Dever.
Illustrations copyright © 1987 Brian Williams.