The Kender Corner

Brasswell Lightfinger burst into the clearing with a violent yell muffled by giggling. His nut-brown hair was streaked with berry juice, and his pale face was covered in blue war paint. His impish grin and dark, flashing eyes flared in delight. Rosemary Lockpicker gave a shriek and jumped up in surprise. Her blonde topknot spun around, the berries she had been picking flew in every which direction. Her sudden movement spilled her heavy pouches, scattering their contents across the grassy floor of the forest. Laughing hysterically, Brass fell over sideways, and collapsed in a bundle roaring with laughter.
"Very funny," Rose muttered sarcastically as she bent down to retrieve her scattered property. "One of these days Brass, I'm gonna laugh as some minotaur sticks a sword right up your. . ."
The falling sun still cast its golden rays into the clearing, shedding light upon the two kender. Rose straightened her wrinkled pink blouse and blue skirt as she sourly resumed picking up her scattered possessions. Bored, Brass sat up and watched the afflicted kender with a mischievous grin.
"That's your problem, Rose," Brass giggled in his high voice. "You have no sense of humor anymore. I was just having a little fun!"
"Well, your fun made me drop my things," Rose retorted crossly.
"Anyways, guess what I found today!" Brass exclaimed excitedly. Without waiting for his companion's reply, Brass began digging through his various pouches.
"What?" Rose asked as she straightened her mussed topknot.
"Aha!" Brass crowed truimphantly, as he produced a silvery spoon from the ddepths of his overflowing pouches. "What do you think of this?"
Frowning, Rose peered intently at it, as if she expected it to turn into a dragon and sing elven poetry. "I think its a spoon, and a dirty one at that," she pouted as she finished collecting her possessions.
"No, it's not just any old spoon," Brass frowned with indignation. "It's Uncle Tas' Spoon of Turning!"
Surprised, Rose looked up quickly. She glanced at the spoon one more time to make sure she was absolutely certain. "No it's not," Rose sighed disgustedly. "It's not even a good looking spoon. Look at those jam stains on the handle! And that engraved letter 'D!' Why would Uncle Tas have a crusty spoon with a 'D' on it?"
"'D' could stand for 'Danger!' Or 'Death!'" Brass pouted in mock anger. "And don't be alarmed Rose, but that's not jam on the spoon. That's the blood of Chaos himself."
"Oh please," Rose sighed as she rolled her eyes.

Kender Spoon of Turning

"You know what your problem is?" Brass teased as the two kender set off down the forest path. "You have no sense of daring, of adventure! Plus, you're jealous that I have Uncle Tas' Spoon of Turning!"
"Am not!" Rose pouted as she adjusted her swinging pouches.
Discreetly, Rose safely secreted the Spoon of Turning in the hidden blouse of her blouse. He must have dropped it, she thought to herself. Serves him right too! It's a good thing I was here to retrieve such a valuable artifact. You never know who might have found it!
The broken sun, looking like a cracked egg on a flaming skillet, slowly cast shadows through the murkey forest and onto the kenders' path. Yet seemingly unaware of the impending night, the two kender gaily danced down the beaten path. Smiling at each other, the two kender set off for adventure.

New and Upcoming

War of Souls Updates The first book in the upcoming War of Souls trilogy by the Original Dragonlance authors, Tracy Hickman and Margaret Weis, is due to come out in March of 2000! The name of the first book is Dragons of a Fallen Sun! Also: Rumors of a new Jean Rabe trilogy featuring the Heroes of the Heart, Dhamon Grimwulf, Feril Dawnsprinter, Blister Nimblefingers, etc., are flying around the Web! Margaret Weis herself has hinted of the new trilogy so keep your eyes and ears open! Email Us if you hear anything!

Febuary

The Puppet King by Douglas Niles (Already Out)
****
$5.99
The story of the betrayel of Porthios and ascention of Gilthas to the throne of Qualinesti. The young Speaker must deal with his dark elf uncle in order to save Qualinesti from the forces of Chaos.

The Sylvan Veil by William W. Conners and Miranda Horner (Already Out)
****
$18.95
The first in a series of adventures based around the upcoming War of Souls trilogy. Heroes must search for a way to penetrate the Silvanesti Shield and save an elven village. A plethora of elven material also accompanies this adventure.

March

The Rose and the Skull by Jeff Crook
Unknown
$5.99
The shattered remnants of the Knights of Solamnia must forge an alliance with their sworn enemies: the Knights of Takhisis.

RPGA TSR JAM 1999
Unknown
$12.95
An anthology of the RPGA Adventurers Guild retail demo adventures. Although it isn't strictly Dragonlance, it does contain a Dragonlance adventure, along adventures for Forgtten Realms, Greyhawk, Alternity, Planescape, and Ravenloft.

Spectre of the Black Rose by James Lowder
Unknown
$5.99
Lord Soth, the Knight of the Black Rose, must sacrifice all he has to keep his domain from crumbling. While not a Dragonlance book, this Ravenloft book features one of the Krynn's most notorious villains. Spectre of the Black Rose is the sequel to Lowder's Knight of the Black Rose.

April

None

THE BESTIARY SCROLLS

MUDMEN

On one of my occasional trips to Solace, I met a man by the name of Derek Valesmith. A veteran legionnaire, Derek had just returned from Eastern Ansalon with a shipment of weapons for the Legion. I had heard that he had trekked through Sable's swamp to reach Solace and I was curious about the encounters that he had experianced along the way. When I questioned him, he told me a story.
"Although Krynn has its share of strange and terrible creatures, one strange monster stands out in my mind. Although I have only recently encountered these terrible creatures recently, their innate deadliness and cunning lingers on in my mind.
"My band and I were traveling through the outskirts of Sable's land along the New Sea with a shipment of weapons for the legion of Steel. Although this wasn't the wisest route, we managed to avoid Sable's detection and make excellent time across the swamp.
"Our luck changed when we encountered the ruins of an ancient temple. By the garish markings and statues we deduced that the temple was dedicated to Takhisis, the Dark Queen. The temple's looming spires had tumbled down long before and smashed the dome of the main temple's ceiling. The entrance to the temple caved in and sat buried under tons of rock. A once flowing fountain with a statue of a five-headed dragon lay shattered upon with ground. Only a steady stream of water trickled down the into the dirt and collected in a huge mud pool at the base of the fountain.
"We decided to leave the temple alone and move on. As Rale, our ranger, secured our cargo, the mud beneath his feet began to bubble. before we could shout out a warning, a muddy hand grabbed his ankle and twisted. With a hoarse scream, Rale collapsed into the mud. A head began to form out of the mud, followed by a body. Frozen with terror, we could only watch as the hideous creature rose out of the mud and clamped its muddy maw around Rale's head. The ranger immediattely screamed as his head popped like a melon. We were all hit with a mixture of his blood and mud. Another hand reached out of the mud and grabbed at my foot, but I yanked my sword out of its scabbard and slashed at it. My sword had little effect on the creature, but it released me. Several other mud creatures emerged, and I thought that we were all doomed.
"Thankfully, Darrell, our mage, launched several balls of fire into the fray. the creatures seemed to wince at these spells and retreated back into the muck that they cam from. We packed up and high-tailed it out of Sable's accursed swamp! I've fought many monsters in my time, but those mudmen were the most terrible yet! Sometimes I can still hear Rale's screams as they bit off his head! If I ever see one of those creatures again, I'll burn the blasted thing! If it's one thing they respect, it's fire!"
I belive that Derek met up with a mudman. While not a very sceintific name, it is a descriptive one. As near as I can tell, a mudman is what scholars termed "para-elementals." They are composed of water and earth and are very much similar to elementalkin. In fact, many have hypothesized that mudmen are, in fact, a crossbreed between a sandling and a water weird.
Mudmen are primitive creatures with a low intelligence and a basic language. They harbor ravenous appetites and attack any living thing around them for food. Although they seem to favor dwarves and gnomes, any living thing will do.
Fortunately, mudmen cannot travel far from their "nest." This nest is actually a pool of mud formed by the mudmen living in it. Although all mudmen are compsed of dripping mud, they can be harmed with mudane weapons. Of course, mudmen also seem to regenerate themselves rapidly while in mud. Mudmen quizzically tend to form their bodies into a vaguely humanoid shape with two arms, two legs and a head. They devour their prey through their makeshift "mouths" and attack with their "hands."
Mudmen can also form their "hands" into crude weapons which they use to attack their prey. Creatures of magic, mudmen are highly resistant to sorcery. In fact, many sages, including myself, theorize that mudmen are not connected to the elemental planes at all. Rather, they are formed by having liduids with magical properties mix into soil. Derek's description of the fountain of the Temple of Takhisis may support my hypothesis. After all, perhaps the water from the fountain contained potent magicks that infused the mud at the fountain's base. This could explain the existence of the mudmen in Sable's swamp as well as the mudmen in various other locales. Of course, perhaps it was Sable's own corruptive magicks that formed the mudmen. We may never know.
The best strategy against mudmen would seem to be using fire. Mudmen are especially harmed by fire and often retreat at the sight of it. While torches are enough to deter a charging mudman for a few precious moments, it may take a pyromancy spell of immense porportions to frighten these creatures.
Water is a mudman's lifeblood. When affected by water, including being the target of a powerful hydromancy spell, there is a chance that a mudman will dissolve into a puddle of mud and then form into two mudmen a minute later.

Mudmen are difficult to spot, due to the muddy composition of their bodies, and can therefore only be seen from melee range or closer. Heroes need to succeed in a challenging Perception [Reason] action to notice a mudman and avoid being surprised [heroes actively searching for a mudman may attempt the action at an average difficulty].
Fire is the bane of mudmen. They suffer double damage from pyromancy spells as their bodies seem to harden into dead clay from the heat. The only way to destroy a mudman is by using fire. If "killed" by other means, a mudman will simply reform itself and attack again.
Water causes a mudman to breed. When a mudman is immersed in water, including being the recipient of a hydromancy spell, the Narrator should flip over a random card form the Fate Deck. If the card is a Dragons card, then the mudman dissolves into a pool of mud and reforms into two mudmen a minute later.
Mudmen are rarely encountered alone. A random card from the Fate Deck will determine the number of mudmen a party of heroes may encounter.

Heroes passing through cavernous or swampy terrain may become the prey of a tribe of mudmen.

FAN FICTION

Kurn's Discovery

Kurn collapsed onto the ground, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Groaning, he slowly pulled himself up. The pain in his leg caused him to fall onto one knee. The harsh rays of the sun beat down on his like a thunderstorm. Panting, he reached for his waterskin to cool his parched throat. Empty.
Roaring in frustration, Kurn tossed the useless waterskin away from him and watched as it rolled down the slope before him. Wiping the smudges of dirt from his calloused face, Kurn picked himself up once more and headed down the slope. Already he could see the village. The sight of the ramshackle buildings and shoddy stonework pushed him forward as he rushed down the slope. Forgetting the pain in his leg, Kurn leapt down the slope and tripped. Cursing, Kurn tumbled down the slope. The rocks tore into his skin and armor and his sheathed sword broke loose. With a cry of pain and a curse Kurn hit the bottom and lay there. He lay there panting for several minutes as the air slowly returned to his lungs.
Groaning, the warrior swept his unkept hair out of his eyes. The shaggy brown hair was now caked with leaves and dirt, as was his fuzzing beard. Groaning, Kurn picked himself up again and retrieved his sword. His rusty armor jingled and rattled with every step.
He cursed again as he saw that the strap to his sheath had broken and in his fury he kicked a large boulder. Wincing in pain, Kurn fell once more to the ground. Yet the sight of the village broke through his pain and thirst and once again alleviated his pain. Ignoring the pain in his foot and the raging sun, Kurn limped onwards. To what, he himself did not know.
The sensation had started two weeks ago. He awoke sweating with the vision of a village burning in his dreams. He found himself drifting eastwards in his ramblings and nearly left the town. He felt something pull at him yet he had no idead what it was.
He did not know what had caused him to suddenly leave his post in Solace, to abandon the Legion of Steel. He gave his commander no explanation because he had none to give. All he had was the feeling that he had to leave. All he had was the tug at his heart and mind. All he knew was that it came from the East. So, he would follow the feeling and travel East. His commander had been supportive, saying that he could return to duty when he was ready. Yet Kurn himself didn't know when he going to be ready. He didn't know when he would once again see his comrades.
He knew he shouldn't have left. Hal Dearthwood needed his house rebuilt after it came crashing down due to a thunderstorm. And he had promised Kara Half-elven and Alain Dargeth that he would help them review several plans that they planned to submit to the Legion. he had so much that he had to do back at home. He had responsibilities he had to take care of. However, the feeling within him couldn't be ignored.
Christina had urged him not to go, as he knew she would. She has pleaded with him and her swift tears hurt him more than the blade of any Dark Knight. He could not console her. Even though he longed to hold her close and tell her that he would be okay, he knew he couldn't. He himself didn't know if he going to be okay.He knew that she loved him, and he knew that he wanted to marry her, but the hunger within him didn't care about such matters. it needed him to go East and he had to follow it. He should have stayed with her.
Instead, he had grabbed his trusty long sword, his favorite horse, Tempest, and headed off. Of course, that had been a week ago, when the pull of the East had burned in his blood and swirled in his mind. He had nearly given up hope when Tempest died of thirst two days ago. He had been heartbroken when he had to leave his horse behind, yet he had to go on. Now all he had was his trusty sword.
Pulling it out of its sheath, Kurn admired it in the glowing sun. The long sword was silver and shone like a second sun in the blazing heat. Named Darkbane, it was rumored to have magical powers. Palin Majere promised to have a look at it when he had time. A large ruby was set into the pommel and gold etched the crossguard. Curiously, the name Gunthar was carved into one side of the blade. The name seemed vaguely familiar to him, but he could not place it.
Shrugging, Kurn sped on to his destination. He reached the gates quickly and paid no attention to the fact that they were opened and unmanned. Excited, Kurn ran into the village with the last of his strength. He ran through its only major street and staggered onwards. Laughing to himself, Kurn continued down the road. He had finally reached the destination of his strange quest and this knowledge cheered him.
However, the town did not greet him in turn. Instead, a cold wind seemed to blow through the town. The shutters of the houses and buildings creaked eerily and the silence seemed oppressive. The local inn, the Beheaded Wyrm, was ominously silent. The marketplace was filled with stalls and rotting wares, yet people were not present to haggle and barter for goods. The streets, normally filled with children playing were empty and silent. Kurn did not see a soul in sight. Instead, the village seemd like a ghost town devoid of all life. Kurn called out but only silence answered him. Kurn continued to walk and call out. He passed a blacksmith's workshop, yet the forge was cold and the sound of hammering nonexistant. He entered a magic shop and was confronted with the acrid scent of spices and herbs. yet the mage who ran the shop was not in. Residences were dark and gloomy. Finally, he reached a small house. It was small but elegent, built of oak wood and a stone foundation. The shutters of the house creaked and groaned with agony and the door stood open as if to invite him in. The tugging within him intensified like a beating drum. It hummed louder and louder, faster and faster, echoed by the beating of his heart. Numbly, Kurn entered pushed the door open.
The door creaked and admitted the warrior. Several windows lined the room, permitting enough light to allow Kurn to survey his surroundings.
He entered a large room with sparce decoration. A large table sat in the middle of the room surrounded by two chairs. A plate full of cold, rotting ham lay eerily on the table, as if awaiting the person who would eat it. Although his stomach raged, Kurn ignored the food. He turned around and surveryed the rest of the room. It was sparce, with only a small counter on one side. A small fireplace surrounded by two doors occupied the rest of the room. Kurn marched to the door on the right and opened it.
He entered a large room with a desk and a well-made bed. A plain trunk lay on one side of the room. The only ornamentation was a small plaque that rested above the bed. Surrounded by the etchings of knight and dragons, the was name "KURN." Kurn frowned and walked over to the plaque. Slowly, he traced the words, as if he once knew them.
The tugging in his heart throbbed once more as he traced the name. His mind filled with a jumble of images that he could not understand. He pulled out the image of a man carving the plaque for a little boy. He recognized himself in this very room and he stood up with a shock. But Kurn knew that this was the first time he had been in this village becuase he had lived in Solace since. . .
Quickly, Kurn walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him. He stood outside of the door and shivered. The tugging within him beated rythmically with his heart. Beads of sweat dotted his brow. Suddenly, a a sharp rapping eminated from the door to the left of the fireplace. Kurn swiftly drew his sword. Slowly, Kurn opened the door.
This room was much like the previous one. A bed stood to one side, with a desk and a chest to the other. Above the bed hung another plaque. This one said "GUNTHAR." Kurn looked at the plaque and then at the name etched in his sword. The tugging in Kurn's heart began again as he stood speechless.
Suddenly, the shadows in the room began to dance. Red eyes fromed in the shadows of the room and a figure emerged. Kurn took a step back and raised his sword. The shadow shifted again and suddenly a middle-aged man stood in the room. Broad and strong, the man still possessed glowing red eyes. Taking a step forward, the man reached out for Kurn. Kurn tightened his grip on his sword, then eased it. He could not bring himself to harm this man, whoever he was. He stood there in shock as the man grinend and moved to touch Kurn.
Suddenly, the feeling in Kurn twisted and screamed in alarm. The beating within him roared and throbbed. Kurn saw the flash in the man's eyes and the talons of the man's hands. Roaring in anger, Kurn brought his sword up and slashed at the man. Screaming, the man reverted back into a shadow. Whipping around, Kurn knocked over the table in the room and slashed at the shadow. With a scream, the shadow retreated at the bite of the magical blade.
Hissing, the shadow swiped its large talons at Kurn. The creature's talons tore at Kurn's flesh through the armor. Roaring in pain and outrage, Kurn brought his sword around and slashed again at the shadow. Rasping, the shadow retreated and glared at him. Instantly, Kurn's muscles weakened and refused to obey his instructions. The shadow rushed forward with its terrible talons when Kurn found the strength to move. Roaring, Kurn stabbed upwards and impaled the shadow. The shadow exploded as the magical blade bit into its breast. The shadow's death scream filled the room and Kurns head.
Kurn sighed wearily and inspected the wound he had received. He touched the flesh under his armor gently and hissed when it sent slivers of pain shooting up his arm. Kurn slowly walked back into the dining room. As he sat down to cach his breath, the shadows in the room began to waver. Intantly Kurn bolted upright, knocking his chair to the ground with a clatter. Several red eyes began to glow in the darkness. The thumping in his chest, whther it was the tugging or his heart, he couldn't tell, strengthened. He felt like he was about to explode. Sweat rolled down his face in rivets as the shadows began to form and circle him.
He raised his sword warily and feinted to keep the Chaos creatures back. However, his arm grew heavy and his legs buckled under their mocking gazes. Kurn cursed and cried out but he collapsed onto one knee and his sword dragged along the ground. gritting his teeth, he tried to fend off the incoming shadows, but his muscles were unresponsive. He screamed as their talons began to rake his body. He sobbed as he felt the coldness from their bodies chill his body. Their red eyes burned into his mind and their talons raked his body as he lay there sobbing.
The tugging in his chest reached a crescendo as it pounded like the drums on a minotaur slave ship. His chest felt like it was cracking. With his last ounce of strength, Kurn lifted his sword and screamed in outright defiance. Closing his eyes, Kurn stabbed downwards, thrusting the sword into the ground with all of his might. The wood and stone fountation parted before the blade like water and the sword touched the soil beneath. Immediately the ruby in the sword's pommel flared up and burst into light. The light was as intense as the sun and it burned into Kurns' eyes. The light eminated from the ruby and searred the shadows. With shrieks and screams they fell back and collapsed under the onslaught. Their screams faded with their wispy bodies as they melted away under the light.
As fast as the light had appeared, the ruby dimmed. Kurn pulled the sword out of the ground and held it in a shaky grip. Darkness fell once again to the house. The screams of the dying shadows melted away. Silence filled the room.
Weary, Kurn collapsed to the ground. His blade clattered onto the ground. All was still. Kurn lay there on that ground as the numbing influence of the shadow's drained away. Slowly, his limbs regained their strength.
Finally, Kurn slowly got up. His limbs creaked and his skin burned from the shadow's claws. He bent over and retrieved his sword. He read once more the inscription on the blade. He took one last look around him. The chill of the house lifted. The silence became a blessing rather than a curse. The tugging in his heart stopped. Sighing, Kurn sheathed his sword and marched out of the room. He faced the West and already he could see Christina and the Legion, his comrades. Slowly, he began to walk forwards into a godless world. Slowly, he began to walk home.

ADVENTURE NUGGETS

• The heroes are attending an important event, such as the coronation of a king, a wedding, or a knighting, when an enemy from the past appears. As the enemy sneaks out the door and draws the heroes out with him, he disappears. once the heroes return to the celebration, they find that the guest of honor was slain. One of the heroes' arrows lies lodged in his chest. Can the heroes clear up their good names discover what is going on or will they be executed for their crime?
  -Eric Jwo (Eric94087@aol.com)
• Several dwarves nearby have struck it rich by finding a vein of steel. They immediately attempt to hire bodyguards, which brings the heroes into the limelight. However, the dwarves soon become the targets of an assassin. The heroes seem powerless to stop the assassinations and whispers of bribes and cowardice have begun circulating. Can the heroes stop the killings and prove their worth?
  -Eric Jwo (Eric94087@aol.com)
• A friend of the heroes, who is a Knight of Solamnia, is fighting in a duel of honor and has called the heroes to him. It seems that one of the soldiers under his command has insulted him and vied for his position. He has agreed to fight a duel of honor, but he can't seem to find his sword Duskslayer. Duskslayer is a family heirloom and the heroes' friend cannot poosibly fight without it, especially when the challenger also possesses a potent magical weapon. Plus, it is a point of honor. Can the heroes retrieve their friend's sword in time or will the knight have to face his opponent with a crude weapon?
  -Eric Jwo (Eric94087@aol.com)
• The heroes awaken one day with no idea why they are traveling. They realize that they had a destination and a reason, but they cannot recall it. When they travel onwards, they come upon the ruins of a town. there are burnt husks that suggest buildings, shattered carts, broken armor, and other remnants of society. However, everything is in ruins. The heroes begin to find a few of their old possessiosn among the ruins when they search. What was this town? Why can't the heroes recall anything about it? And what happened to the town?
  -Eric Jwo (Eric94087@aol.com)

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