Dragonlance 17 - Dragons Of A Vanished Moon by Margaret Weis Page B
Authors: Margaret Weis
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to it, a notion that was reinforced by the sickening smell of burnt goblin hair. The shrieking ended summarily, then came a crashing, as of large bodies running through a forest of dripping
wet pine needles. Thinking these might be more goblins and realizing that this was an inopportune time to be running into goblins, especially those who have just been fireball-blasted, Tasslehoff squirmed his way on his belly underneath a sheltering, low-hanging pine bough and dragged Conundrum in after him.
"Where are we?" Conundrum demanded, lifting up his head out of the mud in which they were lying. "How did we get here? When are we going back?"
All perfectly sound, logical questions. Trust a gnome, thought Tas, to go right to the heart of the matter.
"I'm sorry," said Tas, peering out through the wet pine needles,
trying to see what was going on. The crashing sounds were growing louder, which meant they were coming closer. "But I don't know. Any of it."
Conundrum gaped. His chin fell so far it came back up with mud on it. "What do you mean you don't know?" he gasped, swelling with indignation. "You brought us here."
"No," said Tas with dignity, "I didn't. This brought us here." He indicated the Device of Time Journeying that he was holding in his hand. "When it wasn't supposed to."
Seeing Conundrum sucking in another huge breath, Tas fixed the gnome with a withering stare. "So I guess you didn't fix it, after all."
The breath wheezed out of Conundrum. He stared at the device, muttered something about missing schematics and lack of internal directives, and held out his mud-covered hand. "Give it to me. I'll take a look at it."
"No, thank you," said Tasslehoff, shoving the device into a pouch and closing the flap. "I think I should hold onto it. Now hush!" Turning back to stare out from under the pine bough, Tas put his fingers to his lips. "Don't let on we're here."
Contrary to most gnomes, who never see anything outside of the inside of Mount Nevermind, Conundrum was a well-traveled gnome who'd had his share of adventures, most of which he hadn't enjoyed in the slightest. Nasty, bothersome things, adventures. Interrupted a fellow's work. But he had learned an important lesson—the best way to survive adventures
was to lie hidden in some dark and uncomfortable place and keep your mouth shut. This he was good at doing.
Conundrum was so good at hiding that when Tasslehoff, who was not at all good at this sort of thing, started to get up with a glad and joyful cry to go to meet two humans who had just run out of the forest, the gnome grabbed hold of the kender with a strength borne of terror and dragged him back down.
"What in the name of all that's combustible do you think you're doing?" Conundrum gasped.
"They're not burnt goblins, like I first thought," Tas argued, pointing. "That man is a Solamnic Knight. I can tell by his armor. And the other man is a mage. I can tell by his robes. I'm just going to go say hello and introduce myself."
"If there is one thing that I have learned in my travels," said Conundrum in a smothered whisper, "it is that you never introduce
yourself to anyone carrying a sword or wearing wizard's robes. Let them go their way, and you go your way."
"Did you say something?" said the strange mage, turning to his companion.
"No," said the Knight, raising his sword and looking keenly about.
"Well, somebody did," said the mage grimly. "I distinctly heard voices."
"I can't hear anything for the sound of my own heart beating." The Knight paused, listening, then shook his head. "No, I can't hear a thing. What did it sound like? Goblins?"
"No," the mage said, peering into the shadows.
The man was a Solamnic by his looks, for he had long, blond hair that he wore braided to keep out of his way. His eyes were blue, keen, and intense. He wore robes that might have started out red but were now so stained with mud, charred with smoke, and smeared with blood that their color was indistinguishable in the
wet pine needles. Thinking these might be more goblins and realizing that this was an inopportune time to be running into goblins, especially those who have just been fireball-blasted, Tasslehoff squirmed his way on his belly underneath a sheltering, low-hanging pine bough and dragged Conundrum in after him.
"Where are we?" Conundrum demanded, lifting up his head out of the mud in which they were lying. "How did we get here? When are we going back?"
All perfectly sound, logical questions. Trust a gnome, thought Tas, to go right to the heart of the matter.
"I'm sorry," said Tas, peering out through the wet pine needles,
trying to see what was going on. The crashing sounds were growing louder, which meant they were coming closer. "But I don't know. Any of it."
Conundrum gaped. His chin fell so far it came back up with mud on it. "What do you mean you don't know?" he gasped, swelling with indignation. "You brought us here."
"No," said Tas with dignity, "I didn't. This brought us here." He indicated the Device of Time Journeying that he was holding in his hand. "When it wasn't supposed to."
Seeing Conundrum sucking in another huge breath, Tas fixed the gnome with a withering stare. "So I guess you didn't fix it, after all."
The breath wheezed out of Conundrum. He stared at the device, muttered something about missing schematics and lack of internal directives, and held out his mud-covered hand. "Give it to me. I'll take a look at it."
"No, thank you," said Tasslehoff, shoving the device into a pouch and closing the flap. "I think I should hold onto it. Now hush!" Turning back to stare out from under the pine bough, Tas put his fingers to his lips. "Don't let on we're here."
Contrary to most gnomes, who never see anything outside of the inside of Mount Nevermind, Conundrum was a well-traveled gnome who'd had his share of adventures, most of which he hadn't enjoyed in the slightest. Nasty, bothersome things, adventures. Interrupted a fellow's work. But he had learned an important lesson—the best way to survive adventures
was to lie hidden in some dark and uncomfortable place and keep your mouth shut. This he was good at doing.
Conundrum was so good at hiding that when Tasslehoff, who was not at all good at this sort of thing, started to get up with a glad and joyful cry to go to meet two humans who had just run out of the forest, the gnome grabbed hold of the kender with a strength borne of terror and dragged him back down.
"What in the name of all that's combustible do you think you're doing?" Conundrum gasped.
"They're not burnt goblins, like I first thought," Tas argued, pointing. "That man is a Solamnic Knight. I can tell by his armor. And the other man is a mage. I can tell by his robes. I'm just going to go say hello and introduce myself."
"If there is one thing that I have learned in my travels," said Conundrum in a smothered whisper, "it is that you never introduce
yourself to anyone carrying a sword or wearing wizard's robes. Let them go their way, and you go your way."
"Did you say something?" said the strange mage, turning to his companion.
"No," said the Knight, raising his sword and looking keenly about.
"Well, somebody did," said the mage grimly. "I distinctly heard voices."
"I can't hear anything for the sound of my own heart beating." The Knight paused, listening, then shook his head. "No, I can't hear a thing. What did it sound like? Goblins?"
"No," the mage said, peering into the shadows.
The man was a Solamnic by his looks, for he had long, blond hair that he wore braided to keep out of his way. His eyes were blue, keen, and intense. He wore robes that might have started out red but were now so stained with mud, charred with smoke, and smeared with blood that their color was indistinguishable in the
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