Dragons of Autumn Twilight dc-1

by Margaret Weis

  "Stay well behind me," Raistlin ordered, then moved down the corridor, his red robes rustling around his ankles, the Staff of Magius thumping softly on the floor at each step. Tanis and Sturm followed, moving along the side of the dripping walls. Cold air flowed from the crypts. Peering inside one, Tanis could see the dark outline of a sarcophagus reflected in the sputtering torchlight. The coffin was elaborately carved, decorated with gold that shone no longer. An oppressive air hung over the crypts. Some of the tombs appeared to have been broken into and plundered. Tanis caught a glimpse of a skull grinning out of the darkness. He wondered if these ancient dead were planning their revenge for having their rest disturbed. Tanis forced himself to return to reality. It was bleak enough.

  Raistlin stopped when he neared the end of the corridor. The gully dwarves watched him curiously, ignoring the others behind him. The mage did not speak. He reached into a pouch on his belt and drew out several golden coins. The gully dwarves' eyes brightened. One or two at the front of the line edged toward Raistlin to get a better view. The mage held up a coin so they all could see it. Then he threw it high into the air and… it vanished!

  The gully dwarves gasped. Raistlin opened his hand with a flourish to reveal the coin. There was scattered applause. The gully dwarves crept closer, mouths gaping in wonder.

  Gully dwarves-or Aghar, as their race was known-were truly a miserable lot. The lowest caste in dwarven society, they were to be found all over Krynn, living in filth and squalor in places that had been abandoned by most other living creatures, including animals. Like all dwarves, they were clannish, and several clans often lived together, following the rule of their chieftains or one particularly powerful clan leader. Three clans lived in Xak Tsaroth-the Sluds, the Bulps, and the Glups. Members of all three clans now surrounded Raistlin. There were both males and females, though it was not easy to tell the sexes apart. The females lacked whiskers on their chins but had them on their cheeks. They wore a tattered overskirt wrapped around their waists extending to their bony knees. Otherwise, they were every bit as ugly as their male counterparts. Despite their wretched appearance, gully dwarves generally led a cheerful existence.

  Raistlin, with marvelous dexterity, made the coin dance over his knuckles, flipping it in and out of his fingers. Then he made it disappear, only to reappear inside the ear of some startled gully dwarf who stared at the mage in amazement. This last trick produced a momentary interruption in the performance as the Aghar's friends grabbed him and peered intently into his ear, one of them even sticking his finger inside to see if more coins might be forthcoming. This interesting activity ceased, though, when Raistlin reached into another pouch and removed a small scroll of parchment. Spreading it open with his long, thin fingers, the mage began to read from it, chanting softly, "SuA tangus moipar, ast akular kalipar" The gully dwarves watched in total fascination.

  When the mage finished reading, the spidery-looking words on the scroll began to burn. They flared, then disappeared, leaving traces of green smoke.

  "What was that all about?" Sturm asked suspiciously.

  "They are now spellbound," Raistlin replied. "I have cast over them a spell of friendship."

  The gully dwarves were enthralled and, Tanis noticed, the expressions on their faces had changed from interest to open, unabashed affection for the mage. They reached out and patted him with their dirty hands, jabbering away in their shapeless language. Sturm glanced at Tanis in alarm. Tanis knew what the knight was thinking; Raistlin could have cast that spell on any of them at any time.

  Hearing the sound of running feet, Tanis looked quickly back to where Riverwind stood guard. The Plainsman pointed to the gully dwarves, then held up his hands, fingers spread. Ten more were heading their way. Soon, the new Aghar trotted into view, passing Riverwind without so much as a glance. They pulled up short on seeing the commotion around the mage.

  "What happening?" said one, staring at Raistlin. The spellbound gully dwarves were gathered around the mage, tugging on his robe and dragging him down the hall.

  "Friend. This our friend," they all chattered wildly in a crude form of Common.

  "Yes," Raistlin said in a soft and gentle voice, so smooth and winning that Tanis was momentarily taken aback. "You are all my friends," the mage continued. "Now, tell me, my friends- where does this corridor lead?" Raistlin pointed to the east.

  There was an immediate babble of answers.

  "Corridor lead that way," said one, pointing east.

  "No, it lead that way!" said another, pointing west.

  A scuffle broke out, the gully dwarves pushing and shoving. Soon fists were flying and then one gully dwarf had another on the ground, kicking him, yelling, "That way! That way!" at the top of his lungs.

  Sturm turned to Tanis. "This is ridiculous! They'll bring every draconian in the place down on us. I don't know what that crazy magician has done, but you've got to stop him."

  Before Tanis could intervene, however, one female gully dwarf took matters into her own hands. Dashing into the melee, she grabbed the two combatants, knocked their heads together smartly, and dumped them on the floor. The others, who had been cheering them on, immediately hushed, and the newcomer turned to Raistlin. She had a thick, bulbous nose and her hair stood up wildly on her head. She wore a patched and ragged dress, thick shoes, and stockings that collapsed around her ankles. But she seemed to be a leader among the gully dwarves, for they all eyed her with respect. This may have been because she carried a huge, heavy bag slung over one shoulder. The bag dragged along the ground as she walked, occasionally tripping her. But the bag was apparently of great importance to her. When one of the other gully dwarves attempted to touch it, she whirled around and smacked him across the face.

  "Corridor lead to big bosses," she said, nodding her head toward the east.

  "Thank you, my dear," Raistlin said, reaching out to touch her cheek. He spoke a few words, "Tan-tago, musalah."

  The female gully dwarf watched, fascinated, as he spoke. Then she sighed and gazed up at him in adoration.

  "Tell me, little one," Raistlin said. "How many bosses?"

  The gully dwarf frowned, concentrating. She raised a grubby hand. "One," she said, holding up one finger. "And one, and one, and one." Looking up at Raistlin triumphantly, she held up four fingers and said, "Two."

  "I'm beginning to agree with Flint," Sturm growled.

  "Shhhh," Tanis said. Just then the screeching noise stopped. The gully dwarves looked down the corridor uneasily as into the silence came the harsh cracking sound again.

  "What is that noise?" Raistlin asked his spellbound adorer.

  "Whip," the female gully dwarf said emotionlessly. Reaching out her filthy hand, she took hold of Raistlin's robe and started to pull him toward the east end of the corridor. "Bosses get mad. We go."

  "What is it you do for the bosses?" Raistlin asked, holding back.

  "We go. You see." The gully dwarf tugged on him. "We down. They up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Come. You go. We give ride down."

  Raistlin, being carried along on a tide of Aghar, looked back at Tanis, motioning with his hand. Tanis signaled to Riverwind and Flint, and everyone started moving down the hall behind the gully dwarves. Those Raistlin had charmed remained clustered around him, trying to stay as close as possible, while the rest ran off down the corridor when the whip cracked again. The companions followed Raistlin and the gully dwarves down to the comer, where the screeching noise started up once again, much louder now.

  The female gully dwarf brightened as she heard it. She and the rest of the gully dwarves halted. Some of them slouched against the slime-covered walls, others plopped on the floor like sacks. The female stayed near Raistlin, holding the hem of his sleeve in her small hand. "What is it?" he asked. "Why have we stopped?"

  "We wait. Not our turn yet," she informed him.

  "What will we do when it is our turn?" he asked patiently.

  "Go down," she said, staring up at him adoringly.

 
Raistlin looked at Tanis, shook his head. The mage decided to try a new approach.

  "What is your name, little one?" he asked.

  "Bupu."

  Caramon snorted and quickly clapped his hand over his mouth.

  "Now, Bupu," Raistlin said in dulcet tones, "do you know where the dragon's lair is?"

  "Dragon?" Bupu repeated, astounded. "You want dragon?"

  "No," Raistlin said hastily, "we don't want the dragon-just the dragon's lair, where the dragon lives."

  "Oh, me not know that." Bupu shook her head. Then, seeing disappointment on Raistlin's face, she clutched his hand. "But me take you to the great Highbulp. He know everything."

  Raistlin raised his eyebrows. "And how do we get to the Highbulp?"

  "Down!" she said, grinning happily. The screeching sound stopped. There was a crack of a whip. "It our turn to go down now. You come. You come now. Go see Highbulp."

  "Just a moment." Raistlin extricated himself from the gully dwarf's grasp. "I must talk to my friends." He walked over to Tanis and Sturm. "This Highbulp is probably head of the clan, maybe head of several clans."

  "If he's as intelligent as this lot, he won't know where his own wash bowl is, let alone the dragon," Sturm growled.

  "He'll know, most likely," Flint spoke up grudgingly. "They're not smart, but gully dwarves remember everything they see or hear if you can just get them to put it into words of more than one syllable."

  "We better go see the great Highbulp then," Tanis said ruefully. "Now, if we could just figure out what this up and down business is and that squeaking noise-"

  "I know!" said a voice.

  Tanis looked around. He had completely forgotten about Tasslehoff. The kender came running back in from around the comer, his topknot dancing, eyes shining with merriment. "It's a lift, Tanis," he said. "Like in dwarven mines. I was in a mine, once. It was the most wonderful thing. They had a lift that took rock up and down. And this is just like it. Well, almost like it. You see-" He was suddenly overcome with giggles and couldn't go on. The rest glaring at him, the kender made a violent effort to control himself

  "They're using a giant lard-rendering pot! The gully dwarves that have been standing in line here run out when one of the draco-thing-a-ma-jiggers cracks this big whip. They all jump into the pot that's attached to a huge chain wrapped around a spoked wheel with teeth that fit into the links of the chain- that's what's squeaking! The wheel turns and down they go, and pretty soon up comes another pot-"

  "Big bosses. Pot full of big bosses," Bupu said.

  "Filled with draconians!" Tanis repeated in alarm.

  "Not come here," Bupu said. "Go that way-" She waved a hand vaguely.

  Tanis remained uneasy. "So these are the bosses. How many draconians are there by the pot?"

  "Two," said Bupu, holding Raistlin's sleeve securely. "Not more than two."

  "Actually, there are four," Tas said with an apologetic glance for contradicting the gully dwarf. "They're the little ones, not the big ones that cast spells."

  "Four." Caramon flexed his huge arms. "We can handle four."

  "Yes, but we've got to time it so that fifteen more aren't arriving," Tanis pointed out.

  The whip cracked again.

  "Come!" Bupu tugged urgently on Raistlin's sleeve. "We go. Bosses get mad."

  "I'd say this is as good a time as any," Sturm said, shrugging. "Let the gully dwarves run as usual. We'll follow and overwhelm the bosses in the confusion. If one pot is up here waiting to be loaded with gully dwarves, the other has to be on the ground level."

  "I suppose," Tanis said. He turned to the gully dwarves. "When you get to the lift-er, pot-don't jump in. Just dodge aside and keep out of the way. All right?"

  The gully dwarves stared at Tanis with deep suspicion. The half-elf sighed and looked at Raistlin. Smiling slightly, the mage repeated Tanis's instructions. Immediately the gully dwarves began to smile and nod enthusiastically.

  The whip cracked again and the companions heard a harsh voice. "Quit loafing, you scum, or we'll chop your nasty feet off and give you an excuse for being slow!"

  "We'll see whose feet get chopped off, " Caramon said.

  "This be some fun!" said one of the gully dwarves solemnly. The Aghar dashed down the corridor.

  18

  Fight at the lift. Bupu's cure for a cough

  A lot mist rose from two large holes in the floor, swirling around whatever was nearby. Between the two holes was a large wheel, around which ran a gigantic chain. A tremendous black iron pot hung suspended from the chain over one of the holes. The other end of the chain disappeared through the other hole. Four armor-clad draconians, two of them swinging leather whips and armed with curved swords, stood around the pot. They were visible only briefly, then mist hid them from view. Tanis could hear the whip crack and a guttural voice bellowing.

  "You louse-ridden dwarf vermin! What're you doing, holding back there. Get into this pot before I flay the filthy flesh from your nasty bones! I-ulp!"

  The draconian stopped in midsentence, its eyes bulging out of its reptilian head as Caramon emerged from the mist, roaring his battle-cry. The draconian let out a yell that changed into a choking gurgle as Caramon grabbed the creature around its scrawny neck, lifted it off its clawed feet, and hurled it back against the wall. Gully dwarves scattered as the body hit the wall with a bone-crushing thump.

  Even as Caramon attacked, Sturm-swinging his great two-handed sword-yelled out the knight's salute to an enemy and lopped the head off a draconian who never saw what was coming. The severed head rolled on the floor with a crunching sound as it changed to stone.

  Unlike goblins, who attack anything that moves without strategy or thought, draconians are intelligent and quick-thinking. The two remaining by the pot had no intention of taking on five skilled and well-armed warriors. One of them immediately jumped into the pot, yelling instructions to its companion in their guttural language. The other draconian dashed over to the wheel and freed the mechanism. The pot began to drop through the hole.

  "Stop it!" Tanis yelled. "It's going for reinforcements!"

  "Wrong!" shouted Tasslehoff, peering over the edge. "The reinforcements are already on the way up in the other pot. There must be twenty of them!"

  Caramon ran to stop the draconian operating the lift, but he was too late. The creature left the mechanism turning and dashed toward the pot. With a great bound, it leaped in after its companion. Caramon, on the principle of don't let the enemy get away, jumped right into the pot after it! The gully dwarves cheered and hooted, some dashing over to the edge to get a better view.

  "That big idiot!" Sturm swore. Shoving gully dwarves aside to look down, he saw swinging fists and flashing armor as Caramon and the draconians flailed away at each other. Caramon's added weight caused the pot to fall faster.

  "They'll cut the lummox to jerky down there," Sturm muttered. "I'm going after him," he yelled to Tanis. Launching himself into the air. he grabbed hold of the chain and slid right down it into the pot.

  "Now we've lost both of them!" Tanis groaned. "Flint, come with me. Riverwind, stay up here with Raistlin and Goldmoon. See if you can reverse that damned wheel! No, Tas, not you!"

  Too late. The Render, screaming enthusiastically, leaped onto the chain and began shinnying down. Tanis and Flint jumped into the hole, too. Tanis wrapped his arms and legs around the chain, hanging on just above the kender, but the dwarf missed his hold, landing in the pot helmet first. Caramon promptly stepped on him.

  The draconians in the pot pinned the warrior against the side. He punched one, sending it slamming to the other side, and drew his dagger on the other as it fumbled for its sword. Caramon stabbed before the draconian could get the sword free, but the warrior's dagger glanced off the creature's armor and was jarred out of Caramon's grasp. The draconian went for his face, trying to gouge his eyes out with its clawed hands. Grabbing the draconian's wrists in a crushing grip, Caramon succeeded in wrenching its hands away from his fac
e. The two powerful beings-human and draconian- struggled against the side of the pot.

  The other draconian recovered from Caramon's blow and seized its sword. But its dive for the warrior came to an abrupt halt when Sturm, sliding down the chain, kicked it hard in the face with his heavy boot. The draconian reeled backwards, the sword flying from its grasp. Sturm leaped and tried to club the creature with the flat of his sword, but the draconian thrust the blade aside with its hands.

  "Get off me!" Flint roared from the bottom of the pot. Blinded by his helm, he was being slowly crushed by Caramon's big feet. In a spurt of ferocious anger, the dwarf straightened his helm, then heaved himself up, causing Caramon to lose his footing and tumble forward into the draconian. The creature sidestepped while Caramon staggered into the huge chain. The draconian swung its sword wildly. Caramon ducked and the sword clanged uselessly against the chain, notching the blade. Flint hurled himself at the draconian, hitting it squarely in the stomach with his head. The two fell against the side.

  The pot gained momentum, swirling the foul mists around them.

  Keeping his eyes on the action below, Tanis lowered himself down the chain. "Stay put!" he snarled at Tasslehoff. Letting go his grip, Tanis dropped down and landed in the midst of the melee. Tas, disappointed but reluctant to disobey Tanis, clung to the chain with one hand while he reached into his pouch and pulled out a rock, ready to drop it-on the head of an enemy, he hoped.

  The pot began to sway as the combatants fell against the sides in their struggles, all the while dropping lower and lower, causing the other pot-filled with screaming and cursing draconians-to rise higher and higher.

  Riverwind, standing at the hole with the gully dwarves, could see very little through the mist. He could, however, hear thumps and curses and groans from the pot holding his friends. Then out of the mist rose the other pot. Draconians stood, swords in their hands, staring, open-mouthed, up at him, their long red tongues panting in anticipation. In moments, he and Goldmoon, Raistlin, and fifteen gully dwarves would be facing about twenty angry draconians!