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Crepuscule	By : Skullbearer Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 2832 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the book(s) that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Scarlet dragon: Glad to hear it.
Tsukiyo no Yume: I'm glad to know you liked that image, I was worried it might be a little too poetic.
Oh, they'll get their privacy, but in the end someone is going to be traumatised, someone a lot more deserving than poor Tas.
Dalamar Nightson: Out of the group, Tasslehoff's the only one (besides Raistlin of course) who isn't unpleasent, he is, however, very annoying.
Crepuscule
Chapter ten- Of Friends
And I don't think I'm coming down
-Northern Soul, The Verve.
Raistlin was already awake by the time Dalamar drifted back to himself. The young mage was curled up beside him, clearly unwilling to leave the warm comfort of the bedroll.
To be honest, Dalamar wasn't so sure he wanted to either. The temple was chilly in the air of dawn, the breeze carrying hints of autumn cold from outside. Who then, would want to move, particularly when your present surroundings were so unpleasant?
As if sensing the Dark elf was awake, Raistlin rolled over, smiling. He's been flicking through that book again, Dalamar noted, barely hiding a frown. He didn't believe for a moment that Raistlin had told him the whole truth last night, but was confident -or at least, hoping- that the young mage would tell him when the time came.
What /was/ he looking for? The tome had very few references to Xak Tsaroth, and anyway the books dated from before the Cataclysm, so what they could offer was limited. Dalamar stifled his sigh, pushed the thoughts from his mind, and lent in close for a good-morning kiss.
The two mages were the only ones up at this time, even Sturm lounged against the wall, snoring.
Raistlin and Dalamar exchanged glances. "If this is how Solamnics keep watch, no wonder their order's in ruins!" the Dark elf snickered.
The human mage smiled back and shook his head before changing the subject. "May I borrow your cup? Mine was in my pack, and I need my tea."
Dalamar nodded and handed over the wooden mug. "A coughing fit while fighting a dragon would be a bad idea."
Raistlin laughed softly. "I'm more worried about having one when trying to /hide/ from the dragon. We best leave dragonslaying to brainless oafs like my brother and honour bound fools like Sturm."
The two mages sat down and the younger one pulled out his belt pouch, starting to grind up the ingredients he needed for his tea.
Dalamar looked over at the still slumbering knight. To think he could just creep up now... One swift slash and that particular threat would be ended. Raistlin wouldn't argue, he'd be just as glad to see the back of the Solamnic. Then, they could just throw his body down the well and no one would be any the wiser...
The Dark elf shook himself. He'd be a fool if he thought he could get away with murder in a goodly temple, and anyway, they might need the knight, if only as a diversion. Still, the thought of going into battle with the Solamnic at his back was a deeply disconcerting one.
He only hoped to Nuitari that his lover was right and it wouldn't come to fighting.
Raistlin had finished preparing his drink and swallowed it down with a grimace. Dalamar wrinkled his nose. If the tea tasted as bad as it smelled, then he really felt sorry for the human wizard.

They were halfway through breakfast when everyone else started waking up -or rather, the Silvanesti was. Raistlin had eaten only a few scraps of bread despite the Dark elf's insistence that he should eat more, then settled back with his spellbook.
Dalamar sighed, finished his own meal, then did the same, sitting back to back with the younger mage. Fight or not, they would need every spell they knew in the upcoming struggle.
By the time the last member of the group -Tanis- had woken up and eaten, the arcane symbols had burnt themselves in the elven wizard's mind. The Red Robe’s took a little longer, but then he had more to memorise.
The Dark elf felt a curious pang at that thought. Yes, he knew his lover had taken the Test while he himself had yet to be called, but it was strange to see the power difference starting to assert itself.
Dalamar looked back down at his spellbook, at the familiar arcane symbols etched there. Whatever happens, he assured himself, it won't drive us apart. /I won't let it/ drive us apart.
"Well, I'm all set," Caramon called from near the doors.
"We, too, are ready." Goldmoon's voice came from behind them, probably from near the statue.
The dark mage recalled the cold, forbidding expression carved into the marble and decided against turning around. His spellbook was carefully replaced in his pack and stood, stretching muscles grown stiff in the cool air.
Raistlin got up too, rubbing his shoulders.
Everyone else was on their feet, checking over their weapons -mostly ones stolen from the draconian camp. Tanis had a longbow, some arrows, a longsword, and a dagger. Sturm had been able to retain his ancient sword. Caramon had a battered shield and a scrounged blade. Even Flint and Tasslehoff were armed; the dwarf had found a battle-axe and the kender a small dagger. Goldmoon had her staff and Riverwind a draconian sword.
As for himself and Raistlin, he had his dagger -by some mercy it hadn't fallen out of his boot in the chaos of the previous evening- and the human had his staff.
Dalamar had a nasty feeling that the only enchanted weapons they had between them were his dagger, Raistlin and Goldmoon's staffs, and possibly Sturm's sword. It wasn't a pleasant realisation.
By the look on Half-human's face, he had come to the same conclusion.
They didn't leave through the door leading to the well, but through a pair of double doors to the east instead. The passageway led them to a circular room with a crumbling staircase leading down.
Something seemed familiar about this place; Dalamar was sure he had read about it before, although it was only when Raistlin said the name that he recalled it.
"The Paths of the Dead."
Dalamar nodded, that was it. "The stair to the old crypts -The Hall of the Ancestors."
"How in the name of Reorx do you know that?" Flint's voice growled.
"Unlike you," Dalamar snarled, "we actually know how to read."
"This is the first time we've heard of it," Sturm's cold tone cut in from ahead of them. "What else do you know that you haven't told us?"
"A great many things, knight." Like Dalamar, Raistlin had also heard the threat in the Solamnic's voice. He wondered if the human mage had also felt the danger in the whole situation; they were, after all, surrounded by people who he couldn't trust as far as he could throw them. "While you and my brother played with wooded swords, I spent my time in study." Clearly not.
The Dark elf put a hand on his lover's shoulder, warning him not to push too much.
"Yes, the study of that which is dark and mysterious -and evil. What really happened in the Tower of High Sorcery, Raistlin? What happened there that you won't even tell /him/ about it? What did you sacrifice in that Tower? Your health -or your soul?"
Dalamar's grip on Raistlin's shoulder had to be painful. The knight's sneering words had struck too close to the bone, and the Silvanesti was almost overwhelmed with the desire to throw the pompous, arrogant, /dangerous/ Solamnic down the steps. He briefly wished he had killed Sturm when he'd had the chance.
"Sturm!" Caramon's voice broke in while Dalamar was still unable to answer. "I trust my brother, and I believe he has a good reason not to tell us what happened to him, right?"
Raistlin's dead head grin was the only answer.
"I trust him," Caramon repeated, with a baleful glance at the elven wizard to show just how much the big man trusted /him/. "You may trust my brother as you trust me."
Dalamar was sure he was the only one to see his lover’s sneer, after all, he was the only one who was meant to.
Sturm's face was set, and it was clear that while he knew he could rely on Caramon, his emotions towards Raistlin remained hostile. The disgust and contempt on his face were impossible to mistake. "You should be thankful you have such a loyal brother," he said stiffly, then hissed, "But I am not so easy to fool,” before starting on down the steps once again.
The Red Robe didn't say anything to the knight, nor did he move, but lowered his voice and spoke softly to Dalamar, "Caramon can eat his pretty words, it's not worth putting up with him."
The Dark elf smiled despite the hate still boiling inside him. "Still, he would make a wonderful target," he whispered back. "Just think, with such as him and Sturm on the menu, do you think the dragon would bother with us? We're far too scrawny."
Raistlin's hand came up to hide his smile.
Tanis broke in, oblivious to the previous conversation, "Can you guide us through this place?"
"I could have," Raistlin shrugged, "if we had come here prior to the Cataclysm. The books Dalamar and I studied dated back hundreds of years. During the Cataclysm, when the fiery mountain struck Krynn, the city of Xak Tsaroth was cast down the side of a cliff. We recognised the staircase because it is still intact. As for beyond-" Another shrug.
"Where do the stairs lead?"
"To the Hall of the Ancestors," Dalamar put in. "Where priests and kings were buried." He sighed. "More dead."
Raistlin's hand took his own and squeezed.
"Lets get moving," Caramon called from further back. "All we're doing is scaring ourselves."
The younger wizard nodded. "Yes. We must go and go quickly. We have until nightfall. By tomorrow, this city will be overrun by the armies moving from the north."
Dalamar remembered the unnatural storm clouds of the previous night and agreed. Armies or not, /something/ was coming out of the north, and it would be best not to be here when it arrived.
The Solamnic clearly didn't think so. "You may know lots of things as you claim, mage." His eyes narrowed. "And more than you're letting on, I'm sure, but you couldn't have learnt that from a book." The knight paused, making it completely clear where he though Raistlin might have learnt it from. "But Caramon is right -we've stayed here for too long."
Once again, Sturm started down the stairs, twin stares boring into his back.
"He would kill us," Raistlin whispered as they themselves began to walk down the slimy steps.
"I would kill him," Dalamar answered, his grey eyes locked on the Solamnic’s back.
The Red Robe tightened his grip on the Dark elf's hand and looked him in the face. "I could almost believe you would," he said sadly.
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The stairway crawled deeper and deeper into the hillside. At first, it was so dark that even with the light from Raistlin's staff they feared for their footing, but after a while, the way grew lighter, and before long, he was able to extinguish the light.
They stopped at the end of a short passageway. The sound of falling water thundering close by, and something else. Dalamar's keen ears picked out the sharp crack of a whip within the roar. Then a scraping noise followed by a screech that put his teeth on end.
Tasslehoff was sent ahead to scout. The kender pushed open the door at the end of the passage and scuttled out. Raistlin risked a quick glance into the room beyond the door.
"The Hall of Ancestors." He nodded. "Although 'the Hall of Ruins' seems more fitting."
"Shh!" Sturm glowered.
A thumping noise started ahead of them, loud enough to make the walls shake. Tasslehoff came running back just as a troop of small, hunched figures hurried past. But either they didn't see the group, or else didn't care because they were out of sight in seconds.
Dalamar and Raistlin exchanged a puzzled glance, neither having a clue what these odd creatures had been. Neither, apparently, did anyone else. It was only when they had started following the figures that that particular mystery was solved. Flint sniffed the air, turned as purple as a beetroot, and unslung his axe. The creatures had been gully dwarves, and they had apparently kept Flint prisoner for three years.
Raistlin and Dalamar didn't dare look at each other, it was hard enough as it was to keep a straight face.
"Slaves," Raistlin said. "Undoubtedly, the gully dwarves have lived here for many years, probably ever since the city was abandoned. When the draconians were sent, perhaps to guard the Disks, they found the gully dwarves and used them as slave labour." The young mage tapped a finger against his lips. "They might be able to help us," he mused.
Flint exploded. "Gully dwarves! You'd trust-"
"Of course not," Dalamar sneered. "But I'm sure they'd be very happy to see their slavemasters gone, and if we steal the Disks, then the draconians will have no reason to stay."
The Red Robe nodded, but the dwarf snorted and stomped back to his place in line, muttering dire warnings all the way.
Leaving Tanis and Sturm to convince Flint, the two mages crept forward. A thick white mist fogged the southern end of the room, stinking of filth and stagnant water.
Raistlin started coughing and leant against the wall, struggling not to make too much noise. Dalamar took him by the arm and pulled him forward.
The cracking noise sounded suddenly, but much closer, and from behind them came the sound of pounding feet.
"Gully dwarves!" Ah, so Flint /had/ come along in the end.
"Damn," Dalamar swore.
But the gully dwarves -or Aghar, as they called themselves- ignored the group. Even when Caramon stood in the middle of the passageway they only swarmed around him and kept running.
Raistlin was smiling harshly. "Slaves."
Dalamar nodded. "That noise was a whip."
They followed the band of gully dwarves and found themselves in a narrow corridor, lit by torches. The air was even harder to breath here, and the human wizard had to pause a moment to open his pouch, inhaling the scent of the herb to help him breath. It did help, and after a moment's rest, he got moving again, falling into step with Dalamar.
The mist was denser here, but they could all see the archways that were set in either side of the hallway.
"The crypts," Raistlin whispered.
The metallic screeching the Dark elf had heard earlier was louder now. It was colder too, the mist condensing on the walls and ceiling. Through it, they could see that the passage ahead was filled with gully dwarves.
"I wonder why the little guys are lined up?" Caramon wondered aloud.
"This is our chance to find out." Tanis was about to start forward when a hand landed on his arm.
"Leave this to us," Raistlin interjected.
"We will come with you," Sturm stated, his voice as cold as the air.
Dalamar's eyes narrowed and he scowled balefully at the knight. Sturm returned the gaze squarely for a moment, then dropped his eyes.
"Do not disturb us," Raistlin hissed.
The Solamnic didn't answer, but followed when the two mages started to walk towards the long line of gully dwarves. The elven mage kept an eye on him; no knight would stab anyone in the back, even an enemy, but it never hurt to be cautious. After all, he wasn't the only one who wouldn't mind his enemies having a little 'accident'.
Raistlin paused a moment and lay his hand on Dalamar's arm. "Stay behind me," he said softly.
The Silvanesti lagged back, smiling as he saw the young mage's agile hands twitch to his belt. He caught a brief glimpse of the parchment of a scroll before it vanished into Raistlin's sleeves. He had a feeling he knew what his lover was planning. Clever.
Still, he had to wonder what the human wizard was up to when Raistlin stopped near the gully dwarves, put a hand to one of his pouches, and pulled out several steel pieces. Dalamar recognised one as the Takhisis-faced one they had found a few days back.
What was he doing? They didn't have enough money to bribe the gully dwarves, even if the Aghar had any concept of money -which the Dark elf doubted.
The young Red Robe didn't speak, nor could Dalamar see his expression since the human mage had his back to him. Instead, the elven wizard saw as he held up one of the coins so all the gully dwarves could see it, then threw it into the air. Suddenly, it vanished!
Ah, sleigh of hand tricks. Although how that was supposed to help them...
It was only after several more tricks, in order to gain the gully dwarves' full attention, that Raistlin removed the scroll from his sleeve and read it out, /"Suh tangus moipiar, ast akular kalipar."/
Dalamar smiled, then stepped forward to better see the spell's effect. The gully dwarves were grinning openly at the young mage, a few reaching forward to tug on his robes.
"What was all that about?" Sturm's voice was thick with the knight's contempt for magic.
"They are now spellbound, I have cast over them a spell of friendship." Raistlin looked down at the gully dwarves, the Aghar smiled back, jabbering away happily in their incomprehensible language.
More gully dwarves were coming from behind them, ignoring Dalamar and the others but pulling up short when the saw the commotion around the Red Robe.
"What happening?" a dwarf from the new group called over.
"Friend, this our friend,” the others chattered back.
The Dark elf raised an eyebrow. To cast a spell so well, especially from a scroll, was impressive. He was about to say something to that effect when Raistlin spoke, not to him, but to the gully dwarves.
"Yes." The human’s voice was soft and oddly gentle. "You are all my friends. Now tell me, my friends -where does this corridor lead?" The young mage pointed east.
A scuffle broke out as the gully dwarves started shouting out conflicting answers and then set about silencing those that disagreed with them... with fists.
Dalamar was very glad when a female Aghar kicked her way into the pitched battle and ended it by bashing several heads together. It had been getting far too noisy.
This gully dwarf seemed to know where they should go and they finally started off again, the small army of Aghar in tow.
The Silvanesti tried hard to keep the smile off his face; this entire situation was ridiculous and the expression on Flint's scarlet face was priceless. Beside him, Raistlin was quietly interrogating the gully dwarf that had helped them, Bupu, she called herself. This Bupu was happily bouncing along, one grubby hand on the human mage's robes, babbling away in monosyllabic common. "We go, you see. We down. They up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Come. You go. We give rides down."
None of which made the least sense to the two mages, and the human smiled in a slightly bemused way at Bupu.
To be honest, the Dark elf was puzzled by Raistlin's attitude towards the Aghar, since the spell was not one that required the caster to be nice to the enchanted. Oh well, it was getting them where they needed to go.
And that seemed to be, according to Bupu, to the head of the gully dwarves -the Highbulp-, who was the only one in this madhouse who might know where the dragon's lair was.
Tanis was not the only one who was less than pleased with this turn of affair. "We better go and see this Highbulp then," he groaned. "Now, if we could just figure out what this up and down business is and that squeaking noise-"
"I know!" Tasslehoff piped up. "It's a lift, Tanis, like in dwarven mines. I was in a mine once-"
Dalamar had a brief vision of the irritating kender buried in a cave in and sighed. Wishful thinking.
"-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-" Tas giggled "-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-am-a-jiggers cracks this big whip. They all jump down into the pot that's attached to a huge chain wrapped around a spooked wheel with teeth that fit into the links of the chain -that's what's squeaking! The wheel turns and down they go-"
"And up comes another pot," Dalamar finished and shook his head. "Likely filled with draconians."
Bupu nodded. "Pot full of big bosses."
Four in fact, according to what Tas had seen.
"Great!" Flint groaned.
"Not come here, go that way-" Bupu's wave could have indicated anything.
A whip cracked, now very loudly. Bupu pulled on Raistlin's sleeve and they moved forward, everyone checking weapons or, in the mages' case, spell components.
Dalamar turned to the gully dwarves who stood in a little circle around Raistlin. "You lot, when you get to the lift, don't get in, keep to the side and out of the way, understand?"
The expressions on their faces were deeply suspicious, clearly wondering who /this/ newcomer thought he was to give /them/ orders! Raistlin sent the Dark elf an apologetic look and repeated the instructions. This time the reactions were much more positive.
The whip cracked a second time, followed by an angry shout from the draconian. The Dark elf tucked his dagger into his belt and sighed, "Here we go."
He hoped the fight wouldn't be so loud that the dragon would hear them.
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Tasslehoff's description had been accurate, and Caramon charged at the whip-wielding draconian, smashing the unnatural creature against the wall. Sturm ran after them and lopped a second draconian's head from its shoulders. The body fell to the ground with the crunch of stone striking stone.
The remaining two creatures looked at each other and leaped back into the pot, which started to drop.
Caramon left his unconscious opponent and jumped in after them. The Solamnic swore as he saw the pot dropping faster under their combined weight, then turned to Tanis. "I'm going after him."
"Stop you idiot-" Dalamar shouted, then sighed. Too late, the knight had jumped in after Caramon and the pot fell faster still.
"Why," he growled at Raistlin, "are we surrounded by idiots?"
And indeed, Tanis, Tasslehoff and Flint just jumped too.
"Because that's better than being surrounded by draconians," Raistlin answered, looking down over the edge of the pit where the pot had vanished. "And that's what's going to happen very soon!"
As the elven wizard watched the combatants in one pot drop out of sight through the mists, a second one rose into view -filled to the brim with armed, furious draconians!
Dalamar swore and backed away, thinking fast. He could destroy the chain, he supposed. The devastating spell from the Sentinel Peaks had proven itself just as effective against objects as against creatures, but not only would that mean killing half the group -and the Dark elf had no doubt they'd need everyone present to get through this- but it’d also mean sabotaging their only way of getting down.
However, unless he thought of /something/, and fast, none of this would matter.
In the end, it was Raistlin who acted. He shoved Riverwind aside and jammed his staff in between the spokes of the wheel that was slowly hoisting the draconian pot towards them.
The Staff of Magius shuddered for a moment, and Dalamar was amazed it didn't snap in half due to the strain. But it held, and it worked. The mechanism stopped.
The human wizard smiled. "Dragonfire," he said simply, "is the only way this staff can be harmed."
The dark-robed elf nodded, then turned back to watching the pandemonium break out below.
Tanis was looking up at him, eyes wide with panic as the draconians in the other pot, now level with theirs, began to fly over. "Bring us back up!" he screamed, then a draconian mace stroke him a glancing blow on the side of the head, and he went down hard.
Raistlin appeared behind the Dark elf. "Come over to the wheel and get ready to pull the staff free," he said. "I will take care of the draconians."
Dalamar sent the human mage a mildly incredulous look- Raistlin and a dozen gully dwarves against a pot-full of draconians?- but hurried over to the wheel anyway and took hold of the staff, preparing to pull it free.
The plan was very simple, the Red Robe simply got the gully dwarves to jump on the draconian's chain, thus increasing the weight on the pot enormously, and signalled to Dalamar to pull the staff away.
The Dark elf did so, and the wheel started to turn, slowly at first then faster and faster, sending the cursing draconians down into the mists and hauling the other pot back up.
Five much shaken companions staggered out, Caramon half-carrying Tanis.
"We can't get down that way!" Sturm's armour was scratched from the draconian's weapons, but the knight himself was unhurt. Pity. "And we can't stay around here. It won't take them long to get the lift back in operation and then they'll be after us. We'll have to go back."
"No! Don't go!" Bupu had not joined the rest of her kin on the chain, but was still huddled by Raistlin's side. "I know way to Highbulp!" She pointed the way north.
"Then why in the Abyss didn't you tell us earlier!" Dalamar snarled.
The little, dirty woman recoiled under the Dark elf's anger and tugged at Raistlin's sleeve, as if trying to pull him away from this new danger.
The young mage didn't move, looking down at the gully dwarf instead. "Yes, Bupu," he said in a soft voice. "Why /didn't/ you tell me earlier?"
"Secret way. Others no know. Magic." She tugged on Raistlin's sleeve. "Me show you. Safe way. No bosses. Me no let bosses get you. You pretty."
It seemed to Dalamar that Raistlin was trying hard to look him in the face. Despite his annoyance, he found himself having to hide a smile. Pretty, indeed! He'd never thought he could be in a position to agree with a gully dwarf.
They had barely got a few meters before the sounds of approaching draconians reached them. Bupu, however, paid no attention to the noise or to the now very angry companions. Instead, the gully dwarf walked over to a section of wall, reached into her pack for something, and muttered a few words. Obediently, the wall shuddered, then swung open.
The room they found themselves in was small, with barely enough room for all of them. The door slid shut behind them. Beyond it, they could hear the draconians stomp past.
"They must have heard the fight," Sturm hissed. "It won't take them long to get the lift in motion, then we'll have the whole draconian force down on us!"
"I don't think I heard you put forward any better ideas, knight," Dalamar snarled back.
"Then, I'll give you one. We go back. Although you both are more than welcome to stay here and wait for the draconians. Perhaps you get on better with them than with us."
"Me know way down," Bupu piped up before Dalamar could answer.
The Dark elf tried to calm down. The Solamnic always seemed to know exactly what to say to get him riled up. Although to be fair, the knight was even angrier.
Raistlin was questioning the gully dwarf about the door. Bupu was convinced that opening it was magic, despite Tasslehoff's certainty that all she had done was to tip a floor lock.
"Is there any way to open it for this side?" Dalamar asked. They might very well need to know when they came back.
Bupu nodded happily and was all set to give them a demonstration, one that would leave them in full view of the draconians outside. Raistlin stopped her though. The gully dwarf shrugged, then started walking north, passing through rooms like the one they had left: filthy, slimy, and ruined.
Finally, they found themselves in a room whose roof had mostly collapsed. The source of the wreckage was a large pipe, which at one point must have fallen through the ceiling.
And it was into it, Bupu insisted, that they had to go.
No one argued; behind them, they could hear the screech that told them the draconians had fixed their lift. Tasslehoff went in first, next Bupu, followed by Raistlin, and then it was Dalamar's turn.
The pipe was made of metal, and freezing cold to the touch. It was coated with a thick growth of fungus and slime that made crawling along it both treacherous and incredibly unpleasant. Behind him, he could hear Goldmoon's staff banging against the sides of the pipe and the shrill scraping of Caramon's weapons. It went on like this for a while -far too long, in Dalamar's opinion. It was cold and damp, and he could hear his own breathing becoming more laboured in the close confines of the pipe. The Dark elf disliked being underground even at the best of times, which this certainly wasn't.
Nor was he the only one having problems. Even in the dim light, he could see Raistlin shivering, and when they stopped quite suddenly, the young mage leant back against him, his coughs loud in the echoing pipe.
Dalamar rubbed his lover’s shoulders and looked over them at the reason they had stopped.
Apparently, Bupu wasn't the only one to know about the pipe. A group of gully dwarves were coming up in the opposite direction and had blocked it. Bupu shouted at them that they were going to see the Highbulp, and the newcomers decided against barging past, starting to clamber back down the pipe instead.

Dalamar fought down a shudder, suddenly aware of just how confined they were in the pipe and of the many hundreds of tons of rock above them. Should the light of Raistlin's staff go out, they would be in total darkness, and if the pipe itself collapsed, then they would be buried alive.
This time the Dark elf wasn’t able to hide the tremor that went though him. It seemed far too dangerous to be here, this far underground and protected only by the narrow confines of an ancient pipe.
Raistlin choked back his cough and the Silvanesti could see the familiar golden eyes watching him, reflecting the light of the Staff of Magius. He felt the human’s hand tighten around his own reassuringly for a moment, then the young wizard succumbed to his mysterious aliment once more and doubled over again.
Bupu watched the Red Robe in alarm, then pulled open her bag, digging around inside it, occasionally pulling out something before putting it back, muttering, "This not what I want."
One object she held up flashed and glittered. Tasslehoff, who had turned around to watch, gaped, "What is that?"
The gully dwarf shrugged. "Pretty rock." Then went back to delving inside her bag.
Raistlin too had seen it. "An emerald," he said hoarsely.
Bupu looked up. "You like?"
"Very much!" Dalamar winced at the rattle as the young mage struggled to draw breath.
"You keep," Bupu said firmly, slipping the jewel into the mage's hand.
Finally, the gully dwarf found what she was looking for: A dead lizard, which, she promised, would cure Raistlin's cough. The human wizard smiled and thanked her, but gave it back, saying he was much better, which was true -the spasm had passed.
They started off again, Raistlin sliding the emerald into one of the hidden pockets inside his robe -and out of curious kender’s reach.
"Pretty rock," Dalamar said softly, smiling. "A very pretty rock. Now, where might she have gotten it? Last I heard, there were no mines in Xak Tsaroth." The Dark elf's tone spoke quite clearly that he knew exactly where she had gotten it.
The same conclusion Raistlin had come to. "No mines, but there is one creature here with a large stash of treasure, and perhaps this Highbulp isn't the only one to know how to get there."
Dalamar nodded.
The younger mage sighed, "I wonder-" His voice suddenly broke off with a gasp.
The Dark elf skidded forward, only to find that the pipe under him had suddenly changed direction, now pointing almost straight down!
Stopping his descent proved impossible, the slime was too thick and, even if he did manage anyway, he would be knocked down again by whoever was coming down the pipe behind him. Judging by the cursing, it was Caramon.
The pipe finally opened up quite suddenly, so suddenly in fact, that he had no chance to try and slow down, flying out of its open mouth and landing on top of Raistlin, the Staff of the Magius cracking against his side. The Dark elf yelped in pain and gagged, having inhaled a mouthful of something powdery. The air around them was filled with billowing clouds of white dust. The Red Robe coughed and put the sleeve of his robe over his mouth and nose.
Behind them, the rest of the group clattered and banged their way out of the pipe.
Dalamar stumbled to his feet, one hand on his aching ribs, and pulled Raistlin to his feet. He had no idea what the strange substance filling the air was, but he wasn't about to wait around. Copying his lover, he covered his mouth and nose and started looking for a way out.
A small, white imp staggered out of the powdery mist, moving towards them. It was only when it drew close that Dalamar recognised Tasslehoff, covered from head to foot in-
"Flour," Half-elven murmured.
"Flour or not," Dalamar said hoarsely, "we have to leave. We can't breathe."
It took the better part of five minutes to find a way out. The door might have been old, but it was locked and barred, the hinges rusted into place. They ended up having to squeeze out through a hole that had been gashed in the wall.
It was quite a shock when they got out, to find themselves in what must have once been a main street in Xak Tsaroth. The city must had been quite literally swallowed up by the earth during the Cataclysm. The mages found themselves on a cobbled street, lined on each side by shattered buildings and with several small streams flowing down it, forming one large current about halfway down, flowing through a plaza, and then vanishing rather abruptly.
Judging by the roar the water was making, the street must also have vanished.
Bupu pointed towards to noise of falling water. "Follow river."
It was a miserable walk down; the street was so flooded that they often plunged ankle deep in the water. It was warmer here, but the heavy spray from the waterfall made it seem colder.
After having stopped a few times to wash the slime and flour off themselves, in which Tasslehoff discovered that water and flour made a rather effective glue, they reached the edge of the street.
Dalamar stared. He knew very little about caves, since he hated going underground, but even he knew that this cavern was unnaturally huge. Faint light drifted down from cracks in the ceiling, to light up a cavern big enough to swallow a city. The waterfall they stood next to alone was over five hundred feet high.
Below was the rest of the city of Xak Tsaroth, its buildings looming like ghosts through the spray.

Skull Bearer.
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