Dragons of Autumn Twilight

A blaze of torchlight flared into the room. The companions shielded their eyes, making out the forms of hobgoblins behind a squat figure in the doorway. The companions could hear the sounds of flapping feet outside, then what seemed like a hundred goblins stared into the windows and peered in through the door. The hobgoblins inside the bar that were still alive or conscious picked themselves up and drew their weapons, regarding the companions hungrily.

"Sturm, don't be a fool!" Tanis cried, catching hold of the knight as he prepared to charge into the seething mass of goblins slowly forming a ring of steel around them. "We surrender," the half-elf called out.

Sturm glared at the half-elf in anger, and for a moment Tanis thought he might disobey.

"Please, Sturm," Tanis said quietly. "Trust me. This is not our time to die."

Sturm hesitated, glanced around at the goblins crowding inside the Inn. They stood back, fearful of his sword and his skill, but he knew they would charge in a rush if he made the slightest move. "It is not our time to die." What odd words. Why had Tanis said them? Did a man ever have a "time to die"?

If so, Sturm realized, this-wasn't it-not if he could help it. There was no glory dying in an Inn, trampled by stinking, flapping goblin feet.

Seeing the knight put his weapon away, the figure at the door decided it was safe to enter, surrounded as he was by a hundred or so loyal troops. The companions saw the gray, mottled skin and red, squinting pig eyes of Fewmaster Toede.

Tasslehoff gulped and moved quickly to stand beside Tanis. "Surely he won't recognize us," Tas whispered. "It was dusk when they stopped us, asking about the staff."

Apparently Toede did not recognize them. A lot had happened in a week's time and the Fewmaster had important things stuffed in a mind already overloaded. His red eyes focused on the knight's emblems beneath Sturm's cloak. "More refugee scum from Solamnia," Toede remarked.

"Yes," Tanis lied quickly. He doubted if Toede knew of the destruction of Xak Tsaroth. He thought it highly unlikely that this fewmaster would know anything about the Disks of Mishakal. But Lord Verminaard knew of the Disks and he would soon learn of the dragon's death. Even a gully dwarf could add that one up. No one must know they came out of the east.

"We have journeyed long days from the north. We did not intend to cause trouble. These draconians started it-"

"Yes, yes," Toede said impatiently. "I've heard this before." His squinty eyes suddenly narrowed. "Hey, you!" he shouted, pointing at Raistlin. "What are you doing, skulking back there? Fetch him, lads!" The Fewmaster took a nervous step behind the door, watching Raistlin warily. Several goblins charged back, overturning benches and tables to reach the frail young man. Caramon rumbled deep in his chest. Tanis gestured to the warrior, warning him to remain calm.

"On yer feet!" one of the goblins snarled, prodding at Raistlin with a spear.

Raistlin stood slowly and carefully gathered his pouches. As he reached for his staff, the goblin grabbed hold of the mage's thin shoulder.

"Touch me not!" Raistlin hissed, drawing back. "I am magi!"

The goblin hesitated and glanced back at Toede.

"Take him!" yelled the Fewmaster, moving behind a very large goblin. "Bring him here with the others. If every man wearing red robes was a magician, this country'd be overrun with rabbits! If he won't come peaceably, stick him!"

"Maybe I'll stick him anyway," the goblin croaked. The creature held the tip of its spear up to the mage's throat, gurgling with laughter.

Again Tanis held back Caramon. "Your brother can take care of himself," he whispered swiftly.

Raistlin raised his hands, fingers spread, as though to surrender. Suddenly he spoke the words, "Kalith karan, tobanis-kar!" and pointed his fingers at the goblin. Small, brightly glowing darts made of pure white light beamed from the mage's fingertips, streaked through the air, and embedded themselves deep in the goblin's chest. The creature fell over with a shriek and lay writhing on the floor.

As the smell of burning flesh and hair filled the room, other goblins sprang forward, howling in rage.

"Don't kill him, you fools!" Toede yelled. The Fewmaster had backed clear out the door, keeping the big goblin in front of him as cover. "Lord Verminaard pays a handsome bounty for magic-users. But"-Toede was inspired-"the Lord does not pay a bounty for live kenders- only their tongues! Do that again, magician, and the kender dies!"

"What is the kender to me?" Raistlin snarled.

There was a long heartbeat of silence in the room. Tanis felt cold sweat chill him. Raistlin could certainly take care of himself! Damn the mage!

That was certainly not the answer Toede had expected either, and it left him not quite knowing what to do-especially since these big warriors still had their weapons. He looked almost pleadingly at Raistlin. The magician appeared to shrug.