The group stared in silence as the strange creature approached. Trap started forward, eager to meet this odd being. Halmarain pulled her axe, though she had no experience in using it. The weight of the weapon nearly pulled the tiny human out of the saddle.
When the creature saw her weapon, he stopped, laughed, raised his hands, and lifted his lion's head off his shoulders. Beneath it they saw a smiling human face.
"Forgive me if I startled you," he said. "This is Wizards' Day in Deepdel. We forget that not all of Krynn knows of our yearly celebration."
"Oh, look! It's a costume!" Ripple said, sliding from her saddle and hurrying forward to see it better.
"Celebration?" Trap asked brightly. "You're having a party? Wow, that's great. Can we come?"
"Of course you can." the strange man replied. "Once a year-on Wizard's Day-we have a village party. It's in honor of a battle between two wizards that took place here a millennia ago. Oh, where are my manners? My name is Earne Jomann. My father is the mayor.
"Later this afternoon, we will enact the historic battle. We welcome travelers any day of the year, but on this day there is a condition to entering the village. You must wear a costume. Only a few of the pageant players are allowed to be without one because of their parts in the reenactment."
"We thank you, but we must continue our journey," Halmarain said.
"No," Ripple objected. "We want to see the costumes-"
"Kender…" Earne Jomann interrupted, his eyes narrowing. His smile disappeared and he stared at them with suspicion. "You will be seeking the traveler that stopped here earlier? A man heavily cloaked and hooded? He was seeking two kender traveling with a dwarf."
"Seeking us? Who was he? Do we have any friends here?" Trap said, wondering who might be searching for them. "He could not have been looking for us, we don't know anyone in Solamnia-until today," he added hope-fully.
"No, we are four dwarves, not one. He must not have been searching for these kender," Halmarain spoke up quickly, lowering her voice so she sounded like a dwarf.
Earne Jomann seemed to relax. "I'm glad of that; he wasn't the sort of person I'd want as a friend."
"Thank you for your invitation," Halmarain said. "We will join your celebration if you'll give us a little time to prepare for the occasion."
Earne bowed and replaced his lion's head. "Then I will see you soon in the village square," he said, turning away.
As soon as the villager was out of sight the little wizard turned on the kender. She seemed more frightened than angry.
"Who would be seeking you?"
"No one," Trap replied.
"We don't know any humans in Solamnia except you," Ripple added. "The only ones we've met since leaving home were on the ship, and how would they know we were traveling with dwarves? Mayhap you were right and the cloaked man really was looking for two other kender."
"We'll stay here the rest of today and tonight if we can find lodging," Halmarain decided. "By then he may be far away. Let's see what we can do about costumes. And for Gilean's sake, straighten Beglug's boots! They're backward again." She glared at the two kender who were exchanging looks with raised eyebrows. She understood their expression as if she had heard their thoughts. "You're right, they could look like part of a costume."
Half an hour later they led the ponies down a path that winded between two large barns and came out into the village square across from an old inn. Earne had been on the lookout for them and called them over to the inn to meet his father. They could tell nothing about the mayor because of the strange outfit he wore. He resembled a large, round, blue ball with a carved wooden mask.
"And you'll have to identify your costumes," Earne said, grinning at the little wizard. For Halmarain, they had cut long blades of grass that covered her clothing and stuck up from her dwarf helmet. She wore a beard of grass. Like the green on her clothing and helmet, it was held in place by a spell.
"I'm a grass elemental," Halmarain said. "My friend here is the creation of an inept wizard"-she pointed to Beglug, who wore his own face without makeup and his boots were backward-"This is a whirly-gig"-she indicated Umpth, who wore the wagon wheel atop his pointed helmet. It too was held in place by one of the wizard's spells-"These two are kender-dwarves." Trap wore Beglug's beard while Ripple had tied the little fiend's wig under her chin.
"And me gully dwarf," Grod proudly announced. They had liberally coated his hauberk, helmet, and face with mud.
"You did an excellent job for travelers who had not expected to join our celebration," the mayor said. He bobbed up and down until Trap wondered if Braad Jomann would bounce away. "Come leave your mounts in the stables and partake of the day."
A crowd of several hundred humans and dwarves were strolling about, eating, drinking, and dancing. All the revelers wore strange costumes. Most combined the features of animals, birds, fish, and dragonlike shapes. The overall scene resembled the result of some insane and inept wizard's experiments.
At one end of the square a group of musicians performed on a raised wooden platform. The two lute players appeared to be wearing one costume that joined their bodies and near legs into one. Together they formed a two headed creature with four arms, three legs, and a body that was more than five feet wide. Beside them, two human arms reached out from a carved dragon shape, overlaid with painted wooden scales. The hidden musician beat out the rhythm of the music on a drum.
The two kender stood wide eyed, completely forgetting their companions. They wandered around fascinated by the costumes. For the first few minutes they were too busy looking to handle the few loose items available.
Not even their interest in the costumes could long hold down kender nature. They spent a couple of happy hours standing quietly on the fringes of chatting celebrants, their hands busy exploring pouches and pockets. There were so many pockets, and people were moving about so much, even the kender lost track of who owned what when they attempted to replace the many items they'd inspected. The kender's pouches bulged with items accidentally dropped inside and other things they intended to return when they found the owners again.
Trap and Ripple saw Grod, who had found the tables laden with food and was busy stuffing himself. The villagers, well aware of the reputed gully dwarf appetite, were offering him food. They complimented him on getting into the spirit of his costume.
Umpth was near the musician's platform, dancing by himself, spinning around and around. His dark hair and beard flowed out from under the wagon wheel that was still in place on his helmet.
Then the mayor jumped onto the platform and called everyone to attention and ordered them to take the seats that had been placed around the edge of the square.
The villagers knew what was coming and willingly obeyed. Earne found seats for himself, Trap, and Ripple. Halmarain and Beglug sat by a tall human on the other side of the square. Their feet dangled as they sat on the seats made for humans. The merchesti seemed fascinated with all the creatures and for once he was not trying to eat the furniture.
At the southern side of the square, a juggler kept four apples in the air at one time. The crowd watched him until they heard a sizzle and a low boom at the north-western corner of the square. They jerked their heads around to see billowing black smoke. When it cleared, a black-robed figure stood on the platform.
"Hey! That's great! You have wizards and magic?" Trap asked Earne. "I really like magic."
"So do I," Ripple said, leaning forward to watch.
"No, we don't have any real magic, the smoke is only a dwarf trick, and the wizard is a local weaver in costume," the young man said. "He's playing the part of Canoglid, the black wizard that enslaved our village a thousand years ago."
The story enacted that afternoon was in mime but was easy to understand. The villagers feared the wizard who, using horrible beasts to keep them in order, had enslaved them. Then another wizard-this one in white robes- appeared and brought other creatures to drive the evil ones away.
The black-robed wizard leaped off the platform and his foe in white moved forward to meet him. They threw fireballs at each other and at first Trap agreed with Ripple, magic seemed the only explanation for the small fires that blossomed around them.
Still, his eye was quick. The mock battle brought the white-robed wizard close to where Trap and Ripple sat. The kender noticed that when the black-robed figure pretended to throw a spell, the other would flinch away as if he had been struck. His movements disguised the fact that he dropped a small object onto the ground and a short-lived blaze erupted from it. One fell without exploding. Trap kept an eye on it.
The mock battle continued until all the evil creatures and the black-robed wizard had been driven away.
"We are saved! Thanks to Paladine, we are saved!" the players in human dress shouted and the onlookers jumped up from the benches and joined in the jubilant shout. The musicians hurried back onto the platform and the music began again.
As the crowd began to mill about, Trap hurried to pick up the little unexploded ball and examined it. Slightly smaller than a chicken egg, it was made of very thin glass and was partitioned. One side held powder and the other a liquid. He slipped it in his pouch, thinking someone might step on it and break it, setting fire to his or her feet.
He decided that he should give it back to the man who played the white-robed wizard. When he went in search of the tall human, all he found was the white robe, discarded on a bench at the end of the square. He fingered the robe, and inside a pocket he found six more unexploded flame balls.
"Gee! That's dangerous! What if someone were to sit on the cloak?" he asked himself, grinning as he pictured one of the revelers setting his pants afire. He put the rest of the balls in his pouches, intending to return them when he found the player that had worn the white robes.
He had just fastened the strap on his pouch when Halmarain appeared from behind a group of dancing villagers. She seemed to be fighting her heavy boots as she hurried toward Trap. Her face was stiff with anger and worry.
"I've lost that… I've lost Beglug," she said in a soft voice that was loaded with frustration.
"Let him have some fun. He's probably just looking at the costumes," Trap said, sure there was no cause for worry. "He seemed to be fascinated by them."
"That wasn't fascination. I had him under a calming spell to keep him quiet," Halmarain whispered. "But I was speaking to another… to someone I met and I forgot to renew the spell. We have to locate him before he does something terrible. You start looking. I'll find the others and set them to searching."
Trap sighed. He would be glad to get the little fiend and the wizard to Palanthus so he'd be free to explore. He slipped through the crowd, but as far as he could tell, the merchesti was not among the dancers. Then he heard a barking, snarling dog and a sound that was half whine, half roar. The noises came from behind the inn. The dog snarled again and gave a yelp of pain. Silence greeted the kender as he trotted around the corner and into the rear yard of the inn. Beglug stood backed up against the wall of the inn. He was holding a headless dog and crunching away.
Trap shuddered at the sound of breaking bones, but he could hardly blame the little fiend, who had not been doing any harm by exploring. The dog had been snarling and should have been more friendly. Still, he didn't want any of the villagers to see the merchesti eating the dog.
A few feet from the back of the inn was a small shed. "Bring it in here," he said, gesturing for Beglug to follow him. He managed to get Beglug into the woodshed and had just closed the door when a burly human in the costume of a beast-man came through the rear door of the inn. He carried a plate of meat scraps which he placed on the ground as he glared at Trap.
"What are you doing back here?" he demanded.
"Uh, trying to find a way into the inn," the kender said. "I wanted to arrange lodgings for the night, but the front door was blocked by benches." From the half closed door of the wood shed he could hear the crunch of bones. "Yes, trying to find a way into the inn," Trap repeated, nearly shouting as he tried to cover the sound of the merchesti's grisly feast. "I couldn't find the way in. We're travelers, and we want rooms for the night."
• "People usually enter the inn by the front door," the man said, staring at the kender suspiciously.
"I tried. There were so many people and so many benches I couldn't get in," Trap said. "They blocked your door. You shouldn't allow them to do that, they keep your customers away."
He had to draw the man away before Beglug came out of the shed.
"We'll need four rooms," Trap said, just picking a number at random. Anything to keep the man away from the shed.
"If I had four extra rooms, I'd be a fool to let them to a kender who would leave in the morning without paying," the human said. He looked around, eyeing the broken rope tied to a hook near the door. "You're just lucky the dog wasn't back here. He's a mean one; you'd be chewed to pieces."
"I'll pay for the rooms now," Trap said, reaching in his pouch for Orander's magic purse which was nearly bursting with coins. "I don't understand why you would think I wouldn't, but if you want to be sure, I'll pay for the rooms in advance." Trap pulled out the little leather bag which seemed to be heavier than ever. He brought out a handful of steel pieces and skipped away from the shed and into the alley. He hoped the sight of ready money would draw the innkeeper along with him.
"Four rooms," Trap said, pouring the steel pieces from one hand to the other, using the clink of the money to help hide the crunching noises. "We're traveling and we really need our rest, and even if we don't rest much because there's a party going on we still need a place to put our packs."
"Well…" the innkeeper breathed, following along. "I've only got one room left, but it's big. I've some straw pallets, and I'll be wanting two steel pieces for each person using it." The stout human glanced around, still looking for the dog.
"I'll pay for the six of us, twelve steel pieces," Trap said as he led the innkeeper down the alley on the way to the front of the inn. The price was outrageous, but since the purse refilled itself every time he took coins from it, Trap didn't mind.
"And you can include our food in the price," Trap said quickly. He flipped a steel piece into the air and it glittered in the sunlight.
"I guess I can hunt up the dog later," the innkeeper said, greed dripping from his speech.
When they reached the square, Trap spotted Ripple and Halmarain as they searched through the crowd for the merchesti. He winked, nodded, and keeping his hands out of sight of the innkeeper, pointed down the alley he was just leaving. Halmarain frowned. Ripple understood. She was whispering to the little wizard when Trap followed their soon-to-be-host. The stout human stepped over a bench and into the front door of the inn. The kender scrambled along behind him.
Trap secured the room. Halmarain and Ripple had located Beglug, cleaned the dog's blood from his face and clothing, and brought him back to the square. While Halmarain took the little fiend up to their chamber, the kender located the gully dwarves.
An hour later the little wizard sat curled up on the bed in their chamber, her spellbooks stacked beside her. Beglug slept off his dinner on a straw pallet. All their gear lay in the corner of the room and the gully dwarves had washed off the soil of their celebration. They seemed to pick up dirt just walking across the room. Ripple looked around the room, looked out the window, and smiled.
"Oh, look. They're bringing out more food. If we find celebrations like this in every village, the trip to Palanthus will be fun," she said.
"May Gilean preserve me from any more celebrations," the wizard said. "I just want a quiet trip."
"Then if we're only to have one fun time, we should enjoy it," Ripple snapped. "You stay and study your books if you want, but we're going back to the party."
"Stay out of trouble," Halmarain warned. "Remember the reason for our journey."
"Are humans always so serious about everything?" Ripple asked her brother as they descended the steps from their chamber to the common room of the inn.
"I don't think so," Trap said slowly. "After all, look at the people in the square."
Earne had told them the local farmers, hunters and many adventurers came into Deepdel to enjoy the celebration, and the common room of the inn was crowded.
Neither of the kender had eaten anything since they arrived, so they found seats for themselves and the gully dwarves at the end of a table. At the other end, two hunters and a pair of adventurers were trading tales.
The innkeeper had watched them descend the stairs. They had been at the table for a couple of minutes when a roly-poly woman plumped plates of food and mugs of ale on the table.
When Trap had lured the landlord away from the sounds of Beglug's canine feast, the kender had dickered over the high price of the room. The price had not diminished a steel piece, but the innkeeper had agreed to include their food and drink. The trenchers were well filled; the innkeeper was not stinting them on food. Grod cleaned his plate and looked around for more to eat. Umpth, larger but not quite as greedy as his brother, slurped the last of his ale. The kender were still munching away when a chorus of complaints came from the other end of the table.
"And the scabs robbed us on the way to Ironrock," one of the adventurers was saying. He glared down toward their end of the table. "One of the group was a kender."
Trap and Ripple looked up, both wide-eyed and still chewing their food. They wondered why the adventurers were staring at them. Grod pulled off his helmet, exposing his blond head. He assumed an expression of sorrow.
"That kender dead," he said. "Make a good tale, that."
"If the scoundrel got his just deserts, I'd be glad to hear how," the other adventurer said. He shouted for the inn-keeper and gestured for ale all around the table. "You tell, you make good story," Grod said to Trap.
The kender cast a regretful eye on his still half-filled plate, but more ale would be welcome, and he did love a good story. He considered repeating the one he had told in Lytburg and decided against it. Retold tales were never as much fun as new stories.
He thought quickly, casting his mind about for some interesting subject to use as the center of his fabrication. Outside the windows of the inn he could see the raised platform where the musicians were performing. His eyes rested on the wooden dragon.
He bowed his head, pulled up the image of his dead Uncle Goalong which always brought on tears. He formed the first part of his story, deciding to add a new touch. Before they left Orander's caverns, Halmarain had read them a story in one of the magic books. The beginning had been so solemn, Trap had known immediately that the tale would be important. He worked out the words that would make his tale sound important.
"It is fitting that the tale be told on this day," he said, looking down the table, though he could barely see through the teary blur. He noticed with satisfaction that one drop trickled down his cheek, which made a nice touch.
"Not all the creatures created by the wizard Canoglid entered Deepdel in that terrible time when the white and black wizards fought." He leaned forward and turned his head so he could see the hunters on the same side of the table. They were separated from him by Umpth who sat by his side.
"Sometimes something robs your traps and you don't know what it is-of course sometimes you do, but not always, since you're not there to see, not that you could be there all the time at every trap because you'd have to be ten or twenty of yourself-"
"Kobolds and goblins raid traps," one hunter said. "We know that. Get on with your tale." He had not paid much attention to the kender until asked about his traps. His eyes sharpened and his mouth formed a thin line.
"It's true, they would raid your traps if they had a chance, but there are other, more dangerous creatures in the southern reaches of the Vingaard Mountains," Trap said with a shudder and remembered he was going to make this tale important. "Remember, the wizard Canoglid was a servant of Takhisis, Queen of the Dragons."
"You're not telling me a dragon has been raiding our traps," the hunter scoffed. "There are no more dragons on Krynn."
"Not real dragons," Trap agreed. "But are there many creatures today that are like the costumes worn by the people of Deepdel? Look into the square, at the size and shape of that wooden carving. Did someone really think it up? Ask yourself if it came from someone's imagination, or if there might be such a creature hidden in the mountains." He bowed his head again. "The Trapspringer who robbed the adventurers could tell you the truth if he were still alive."
"You knew this robber?" the stoutest of the adventurers asked. His face full of suspicion.
"Yes, I fear so. I not only knew him, he was an uncle and we were both the namesakes of a single ancestor," Trap grudgingly admitted. He liked that touch, but the adventurers were getting restless and he wanted to tell his new tale.
First he set the foundation of his story. He told how the dragonlike creature created by the black-robed wizard had chased a hart into the mountains on the day of the fateful battle a thousand years ago. It had not been in Deepdel to be destroyed by the white-robed wizard's creatures.
"Why have we never heard of this monster?" The disbelieving hunter scoffed.
"Because those who see it never live to tell of it," Ripple added to the tale. "Think of the hunters you have known who never came back to trade their furs."
The speaking looks exchanged by the listeners suggested Ripple's remark had made a solid hit. Several that had scoffed lost their sneering expressions.
Trap wove his tale around a group of bandits who had retreated to the mountains to avoid a chase. Bored, the kender outlaw went exploring and had met the small dragon.
Since the creature had speech and was lonely, it always talked to its victims before it killed them. It proposed a game of tales, and if the kender could tell a better story than the dragon, the kender could go away unharmed.
Other patrons of the inn had gathered around the table. The kender wove a tale of how the dragon and the kender agreed on a wager, the dragon promised jewels from its hoard while the kender outlaw produced stolen valuables from his many pouches. But finally the kender had told all his tales.
"So the small dragon, who had developed a tremendous appetite while listening and telling stories of his own-you know how hungry a dragon can get-gobbled up our uncle. Now my journey, my task to find him and bring him back to Hylo, has been for nothing," Trap finished.
By the time the tale was told, the other Trapspringer had become real to Ripple again. She cried at his death. The one fallacy of the tale was caught by the disbelieving hunter.
"If no one has ever seen this dragon, and the kender is dead, how did you hear the story?"
"The half-goblin in the robber band had gone in search of my uncle. He heard the stories. You know what half-goblins are. He sneaked away, leaving my Uncle Trap-springer to his fate." Trap liked that last part-to his fate. That sounded important too.
"There was a half-goblin," the adventurer who had been robbed, nodded thoughtfully. "And they'd not risk themselves to protect their own mothers."
One of the hunters still half doubted Trap's tale. The second had accepted it and followed the kender's story with one if his own. His tale gave credence to Trap's fabrication. The adventurers, not to be left out, related some of their adventures. The sun went down, some hardy villagers kept dancing in the square, but the two kender listened, enthralled. The gully dwarves had slipped away. They wandered about the room, finishing off mugs of ale and meals that had been left on the tables by patrons who gathered around the table where the tales were being told.
Halmarain came seeking the kender, insisting they return to the chambers and their beds. She wanted to make an early start, so they led the two staggering gully dwarves up the stairs.