Ник О'Донохью - Kender, Gully Dwarves, and Gnomes

In addition to losing their armor and their weapons, he and Tanin had been stripped of their clothes; the chief having discovered that the armor chafed without anything underneath it. Sturm and Tanin, therefore, were now approaching Gargath Castle clad only in loin cloths (having coldly refused the offer of breastplates made of bone).

Palin and Dougan had been more fortunate, the mage having kept his robes and the dwarf his red velvet jacket and breeches (minus the hat). The reason for this leniency on the chief’s part was, Palin suspected, Dougan’s whispered remarks to the chief concerning the staff. Contrary to what the dwarf had anticipated, the fact that the staff belonged to Raistlin Majere caused the chief to open his eyes wide in terror. Palin also suspected Dougan of continuing to try to drum up a game (the dwarf wanted his hat back badly), but the chief obviously wanted no part of an object of such evil. The members of the tribe kept a respectful distance from Palin after that, some waving chickens’ feet in his direction when they thought he wasn’t watching.

It didn’t stop the warriors from marching him off down the trail at spear point toward the castle with his brothers and the chagrined Dougan, however.

“Put yourself in the place of one of these warriors,” said Palin, sweating in his hot robes but not daring to take them off for fear the warriors would grab them. “You are under the influence of the Graygem, which is literally Chaos personified. You hate the Graygem more than anything, yet you are ordered to guard it with your life. Because of the Graygem, you’ve lost your women. Strangers come to take the Graygem and rescue your women, who will undoubtedly be grateful to their saviors. You don’t want strangers saving your womenfolk, but you’d give anything to have your women back. You must guard the Graygem, but you’d do anything to get rid of it. Are you following me?”

“Sort of,” Tanin said cautiously. “Go on.”

“So you take the strangers,” Palin finished, “and send them to the castle naked and weaponless, knowing they’re bound to lose, yet hoping in your heart they’ll win.”

“That makes sense, in a weird sort of way,” Sturm admitted, looking at Palin with undisguised admiration. “So, what do we do now?”

“Yes, Palin,” Tanin said gravely. “I can fight minotaur and draconians ... I’d rather be fighting minotaur and draconians,” he added, breathing heavily, the heat and humidity taking its toll on the big man, “but I’m lost here. I can’t fight chaos. I don’t understand what’s going on. If we’re going to get out of this, it’s up to you and your magic, Little Brother.”

Palin’s eyes stung with sudden tears. It had been worth it, he thought. It had been worth this whole insane adventure to know that he had finally won his brothers’ respect and admiration and trust. It was something a man might willingly die to achieve ... For a moment, he did not trust himself to speak, but walked on in silence, leaning on the Staff of Magius, which felt oddly cool and dry in the hot, humid jungle.

Glancing over at the dwarf, Palin was disconcerted to find Dougan regarding him with a wolfish leer on the black-bearded face. The dwarf didn’t say anything aloud but, giving Palin a wink, he formed words with his lips.

“Wanna bet?”

It was nearing sundown when they reached the outer walls of Castle Gargath. The walls shifted aspect just like the castle. Sometimes they appeared to be built of bricks. When the brothers looked again, however, the walls were hedges, then iron bars.

On reaching the base of the shifting walls, the warriors left them, returning to their villages despite another recruiting speech from Tanin. The speech was a half hearted attempt at best. The fact that he was giving it practically naked lessened his enthusiasm, plus he was fairly certain it was bound to fail.

“Come with us! Show this evil lord that you are men! That you intend to stand up to him and fight! Show him you are willing to risk your lives in defense of your homes!”

He was right. The speech had not worked. The moment the shadow of the shifting castle walls fell over them, the warriors backed away, looking up at it in terror. Shaking their heads and muttering, they fled back into the jungle.

“At least leave us your spears?” Sturm pleaded.

That didn’t work either.

“They need their spears,” Tanin said, “to make certain we don’t hightail it back to the ship.”

“Aye, you’re right, lad,” said Dougan, peering into the trees. “They’re out there, watching us. And there they’ll stay until—” He stopped.

“Until what?” Palin demanded coldly. He could still see the dwarf’s leer and hear the unspoken words, and he shivered in the jungle heat.

“Until they’re certain we’re not coming back. Right?” Sturm said.

“Now, laddie, we’ll be coming back,” Dougan said soothingly, stroking his beard. “After all, you have me with you. And we’re comrades—”

“Share and share alike,” Tanin and Sturm both said grumpily.

“The first thing we have to do is make some weapons,” Tanin continued. He looked around. Thick jungle vegetation grew all around them. Strange-looking trees of various types and kinds festooned with hanging vines and brightly colored flowers grew right up to within a foot of the wall that was now made of thorny rose-bushes. And there it stopped. “Not even the jungle comes near this place,” he muttered. There were no animal noises either, he noticed. “Palin, give me your knife.”

“Good idea,” said the young mage. “I’d forgotten about it.” Rolling up his white sleeve, Palin fumbled at the dagger in its cunning leather thong that held it to his forearm and was supposed to—at a flick of its owner’s wrist—release the dagger and allow it to drop down into Palin’s hand. But the cunning thong was apparently more cunning that its master, for Palin couldn’t get the dagger loose.

“Here,” he said, flushing in embarrassment and holding out his arm to Tanin, “you get it.”

Keeping his smile carefully concealed, Tanin managed to free the dagger, which he and Sturm used to cut off tree branches. These they honed into crude spears, working rapidly. Day was dying a lingering death, the light fading from the sky, leaving it a sickly gray color.

“Do you know anything of this Lord Gargath?” Tanin asked Dougan as he worked, whittling the point of the green stick sharp.

“No,” said the dwarf, watching in disapproval. He had refused to either make or carry a wooden spear. “A fine sight I’d look if I’m killed, standing before Reorx with a stick in my hand! Naw, I need no weapon but my bare hands!” the dwarf had snarled. Now he was rubbing his chin, pacing back and forth beneath the strange walls that were now made of shining black marble. “I know nothing of this present Lord Gargath, save what I could find out from those cowards.” Dougan waved his hand contemptuously at the long-gone warriors.

“What do they say?”

“That he is what you might expect of someone who has been under the influence of the Graygem for years!” Dougan said, eyeing Tanin irritably. “He is a wild man! Capable of great good or great evil, as the mood—or the gem—sways him. Some say,” the dwarf added in low tones, switching his gaze to Palin, “that he is a wizard. A renegade, granting his allegiance to neither White, nor Black, nor Red. He lives only for himself—and the gem.”

Shivering, Palin gripped his staff more tightly. Renegade mages refused to follow the laws and judgments of the Conclave of Wizards, laws that had been handed down through the centuries in order to keep magic alive in a world where it was despised and distrusted. All wizards, those who followed both the paths of Good and of Evil, subscribed to these laws. Renegades were a threat to everyone and, as such, their lives were forfeit.