nent of Ansalon, first with his parents before they had settled
down in Kenderhome. After coming of age, he wandered by
himself until he met Flint Fireforge, the dwarven metalsmith
and his friend, Tanis Half-Elven. After Sturm Brightblade,
Knight of Solamnia, and the twins, Caramon and Raistlin,
joined them, Tas became involved in the most wonderful
adventure of his life – the War of the Lance.
But, in some respects, Tasslehoff was not a typical kender,
although he would have denied this if it were mentioned. The
loss of two people he loved dearly – Sturm Brightblade and
Flint – touched the kender deeply. He had come to know the
emotion of fear, not fear for himself, but fear and concern for
those he cared about. His concern for Caramon, right now,
was deep.
And it grew daily.
At first, the trip had been fun. Once Caramon got over his fit
of sulks about Tika’s hard-heartedness and the inability of the
world in general to understand him, he had taken a few swigs
from his flask and felt better. After several more swigs, he
began to relate stories about his days helping to track down
draconians. Tas found this amusing and entertaining and,
though he continually had to watch Bupu to make certain she
didn’t get run over by a wagon or wander into a mudhole, he
enjoyed his morning.
By afternoon, the flask was empty, and Caramon was even
in such a good humor as to be ready to listen to some of Tas’s
stories, which the kender never tired of relating. Unfortu-
nately, right at the best part, when he was escaping with the
woolly mammoth and the wizards were shooting lightning
bolts at him, Caramon came to a tavern.
“Just fill up the flask,” he mumbled and went inside.
Tas started to follow, then saw Bupu staring in open-
mouthed wonder at the red-hot blacksmith’s forge across the
road. Realizing she would either set herself or the town or both
on fire, and knowing that he couldn’t take her into the tavern
(most refused to serve gully dwarves), Tas decided to stay out
and keep an eye on her. After all, Caramon would probably be
only a few minutes….
Two hours later, the big man stumbled out.
“Where in the Abyss have you been?” Tas demanded, pounc-
ing on Caramon like a cat.
“Jusht having a… having a little…” Caramon swayed
unsteadily, “one for the… road.”
“I’m on a quest!” Tas yelled in exasperation. “My first quest,
given to me by an Important Person, who may be in danger.
And I’ve been stuck out here two hours with a gully dwarf!” Tas
pointed at Bupu, who was asleep in a ditch. “I’ve never been so
bored in my life, and you’re in there soaking up dwarf spirits!”
Caramon glared at him, his lips pursed into a pout. ‘You know
shomething,” the big man muttered as he staggered off down the
road, “you’re st-starting to shound a lot like Tika….”
Things went rapidly downhill from there.
That night they came to the crossroads.
“Let’s go this way,” Tas said, pointing. “Lady Crysania’s cer-
tain to know people are going to try to stop her. She’ll take a
route that’s not very well traveled to try and throw off pursuit.
I think we should follow the same trail we took two years ago,
when we left Solace -”
“Nonsense!” Caramon snorted. “She’s a woman and a cleric
to boot. She’ll take the easiest road. We’ll go by way of Haven.”
Tas had been dubious about this decision, and his doubts
proved well-founded. They hadn’t traveled more than a few
miles when they came to another tavern.
Caramon went in to find out if anyone had seen a person
matching Lady Crysania’s description, leaving Tas – once
again – with Bupu. An hour later the big man emerged, his face
flushed and cheerful.
“Well, has anyone seen her?” Tas asked irritably.
“Seen who? Oh – her. No….”
And now, two days later, they were only about halfway to
Haven. But the kender could have written a book describing
the taverns along the way.
“In the old days,” Tas fumed, “we could have walked to Tarsis