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Post by Daubee on Mar 9, 2008 2:27:42 GMT -5
The older Tarl, taking the knife by the hand guard, withdrew it. It was a throwing knife, of a sort used in Ar, much smaller than the southern quiva, and tapered on only one side. It was a knife designed for killing. Mixed with the blood and fluids of the body there was a small smear of white at the end of steel, the softened residue of a glaze of kanda paste, now melted by body heat, which had coated the tip of the blade. One the hilt of the dagger, curling about it, was the legend. “I have sought him. I have found him.” It was a killing knife. “The Caste of Assassins?” I had asked. “Unlikely,” had said the Older Tarl, “for Assassins are commonly too proud for poison.” Assassin of Gor, page 42
“It was a killing knife, short, well-balanced for throwing” Assassin of Gor, page 261
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