"Scree-scree-scree. Magus slid in fast beneath a club aimed at his head. He drove his sword through the transparent hood into a creature's mouth. The blade sheddered as it struck hard tissue. He jerked the sword losose, smelling vile ooze. The creature fell. Clubs hammered his shoulders. He gored the guts of another creature, cropping it. Two more clubs bounced off his left ribs, right temple. The Brothers pressed all around, marking that damnable, high pitched cry. A spear ripped toward his belly."
1969.