The late night breeze caressed the foundations of Tskull Keep. It folded the keep into the velvety rest of darkness. Moonlight reflected of the blackened stone and cast a long, dark shadow over the land it had destroyed, looming omniscient, and powerful. No one was out at this time. No one dared defy the Emperor's rules. Those who did defy mysteriously disappear into the folds of the darkness, never to be seen again.

From the highest tower of the keep, the Emperor saw all. The night breeze whispered promises and comfort into his ear. He could not rely on human nor kender messengers. Emperor Tas had few to trust. Already there had been a spy. Two spies, an elf and a human! The Hordes were apparently be coming squeamish. He had killed the human already; for the elf, he had sent a specter.

Yet, The specter had not returned. It was impossible for the elf-even though it was a magus-to have defeated the undead. Tas frowned in spite of this. Something had happened. There had been something powerful to defeat the specter. No mind, though. Tas had more to worry about than some imbecilic elven spy. The conquerings of the Dargonesti were already underway. Soon, he would rule all of Krynn. On that day, he would bring glory to Chemosh's name. All of the forces of good would be wiped-out for good.

"Chemosh," he murmured. "Grant me the power to rule the world. I am loyal to you always. I--" His voice trailed off. An old man stood in front of him. The man was dressed in robes of black, most definitely a mage. The man's hood was drawn over his face, hiding his features. But there was something familiar about this decrepit old man, pt Tas. He had met this man before; he didn't know where, though could not recount ever seeing him before. "You there!" Tas demanded. "Who are you and why do I know you?"

The man's lip curled beneath his hood in mockery. Rustling his black robes, the man bowed before Tas. "Of course you've met me Emperor. I believe that we were once very good friends." He sneered at the word once. "But alas Emperor Tasslehoff, many years pass by as we departed. I'm sure that conquering Ansalon has taken up much of your energy-if not all," he sneered.

Tas was struck dumb by this response. How dare such an ingrate speak to him in that way! He, Tasslehoff Burrfoot, Emperor of Ansalon-the role only the great whatever-his-name-was was able to accomplish that! Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. This man, he thought, could be more powerful than he looked. He mopped his brow. "What is it do you want of me, Archmagus?"

The man only smiled. "What I wish of you is what you must give to me willingly. Your memory will give me the power of my choosing. Do you remember any other gods that you worshipped before Chemosh?"

Staring hard at the old man, suspecting a trick, Tas shrugged. "I knew all three major gods. What is it to you, old man?"

"Ah," the archmagus breathed. "That is my secret, Emperor. But I wish you to recall if there was a certain god that you've ever befriended in your early life--a certain god of light, perhaps."

"Be gone!" Tas shrieked. He reached for his side. The cold metal of his dagger flowed through his fingers. Throwing of his cloak, Tas drew the blade from its sheath. "Don't speak of that, you infidel!" He flung his dagger at the old man. But the old man was gone. The dagger, Rabbitslyer, sailed through the air and struck the stone wall.

He did not pick it up. The mage's words came back to him. There had been a god that the entire world knew that Tas had befriended. Fear clutched at his heart. Tas was certain who had defeated his specter. He was certain who this god was. He was certain who the man was; they were the same. Shuddering, Tas limped back into the solace of his keep. About him, the River of Time rippled irregularly. Tas sank onto the stone and fell into long slumber.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Fun time! Honk, honk, honk!" a kender giggled

"Finding others' possessions!" another kender added.

"Walking off with a jug of brandy!" a third kender sighed. All three kender crowded around a booth in Haven. It was the fair! The smell of roasting food (and rats from the gully dwarves) filled the air with pleasantry and laughter. Kender from all over Ansalon had reserved tickets in the fair. (The result from this was the other guests to crowd into one tent and quiver with fear).

"Ghwaaa!!! Get away from me! Ahhh!!!!!" the booth tender-a dwarf-roared. He had been the only brave one out of the poor lot of them to keep open his booth.

"But we wov you, Fwint! " the kender cheered. "We want to live with you foweva!"--They leaned over, close to the dwarf--"Chuuu!"

"Ahhh! By Reorx, now you've done it!" the dwarf gasped, trying to dodge the kenders' lips. "I'm 'gonna catch you all, Ke-en-der! I am--umph, umph-Flint Fireforge, Hero of the Lance."

"Liar!" the first kender protested, stopping his chu-ing. "Flint died in the War of the Lance 50 years ago! Look there!" the kender pointed. "There's Malys destroying Kendermore! Oh dear! It looks like Mina!"

"No, no you idiot!" Flint gasped. "That happens fifty years later! Why see! Look! It's Dalamar. Wait," Flint paused. "Who is Dalamar the Dark? And why is he chibbi?"

"My apprentice, Flint" Raistlin giggled. "Come along little elfy-welfy. I don't want to leave you behind." The chibbi Dalamar wobbled towards Raistlin. "Bye-bye, Flint!" Raistlin smiled. Flinging his arms about, Raistlin giggled 'Boobless' and poof! Both he and Dalamar were gone.

"Uh," Flint shuddered. "What in tarnation happened there? Well," he turned to the gaping kender. "What shall I do with-ah! It's Sturm! Right there! See? Hi old friend!"

"That not Sturm!" the second kender protested. "It is Huma!"

The knight came, swinging his blade. "Hummaaaaaa!!!" He stopped his rampage. "Hurry silly dwarf," he scowled. "We must defeat Raistlin Majere-- wait! Who is he?"

"Okaaay," Flint shuddered. "Me thinks that me am high on Dwarf Spirits." Shaking his head, the dwarf fainted.

Huma gasped. He turned to the kender. "What in the name of Zeboim did you do to him?"

"Nothing," the kender jeered. "You did it! Bad, bad knighty-whity!"

"What?" Huma gasped. "I did not--" he was cut short by a great mass dropping on top of him. With a 'squish', Huma was no more.

"Ahhh!" the kender shrieked. "It is Malys! Run for your lives! Ahhh!" Within two seconds, the kender were dead.

Up in the heavens, the great god of good Bupu watched this chaos grow throughout Krynn. She knew what was wrong, as did every god. She began to weep for the gully dwarves who had died. The rats had all died through Beryl's gas. Wiping away her tears, Bupu shuddered. The River of Time had been tampered with.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Galivan came to. He rubbed at his misty eyes and yawned. Smacking his lips together, the elf massaged his scalp. Suddenly, he gasped. Casting a sharp glance about, for the black robed archmagus. The old man was nowhere to be found. "Where are you, Tsunonu?" he demanded. "What are you up to? Is this a sort of--?" he gasped. In front of him was the Dragon Highlord Kititara. "What are YOU doing here? Aren't you like"--Galivan counted on his fingers-- "sixty years old?"

"Who in the Abyss are you?" Kitiara demanded. "You look like that pitiful lump named Dala-what-ever." She whirled around. "Who's there?"

A young man in black armor appeared out of the mist. He gasped. "Mother!" he cried grabbing Kitiara. "It's you, Mother! It's me, Steel!" He hugged Kitiara. "I've missed you, oh!"

"Steel?" Kitiara frowned. "Hmmm. I thought that Steel was only ten years old." She leaned over Steel. "You certainly don't play the role. Nope!" she shook her head. "You are most definitely not my son, Steel."

"Has the world gone insane?" Galivan gasped. "Both of you are dead, already!"

Both Kitiara and Steel turned to face Galivan. "Is that a threat?" Steel demanded.

"Yes," Kitiara snarled. "'Cause if it is--"

"Pops!" Steel cried. A Solamnic Knight had Steel in a headlock. "POPS! It's ME, Steel Brightblade! Your son!"

The knight glanced down. His face brightened. "Oh, 'hiya Steel, my good son." Sturm smiled. "Whatever are you doing at this time of night? Didn't you know--my! How you have grown! You're a whole head taller, now!"

Galivan sank to his knees. "No more, please!" he sobbed. "This is absolute torture! What in the Abyss is transpiring here?"

"I know, I know!" Gilean cried. Plummeting down headfirst out of the heavens, the god of neutrality grinned in triumph. "The River of Time," he explained. "Someone screwed it up! Now I like j-pop! I am s-such an otaku! Yah, yah! Uh-huh, oh yeah!"

"River or Time?" Galivan was dubious. "Are you sure that I'm not just crazy? There was that Tsunonu guy and--"

"Tsunonu!" Gilean gasped. "You know him?" He suddenly was very serious. "Tell me. what did he look like?"

Galivan saw hope. "He was dressed in black robes!" he said eagerly. "Very old guy like Fistandantulis. Why? Who is he?"

"Oh," Gilean said very sadly. "I was hoping that you meant this one j-pop guy, but now that you mention it, it could be--"

"Who? Oh, who? " Galivan was on his knees panting. "I must--wait! River of Time! Oh!"

"Shut your mouth, little man!" Gilean snarled. "I was about to say that he could be a--uh. Sorry, me can't say. If I do, I'll get in trouble--hey, what are you doing?"

Raising his hand, Galivan clenched it into a fist "Kull ast sulerus/acht furuo shia chiol!" Darkness welled between his fingers. A ball of shadows formed in his palm. He unclenched his fist. "Shadowball," he whispered. Shadows exploded, ripping through the trees. The shadow devoured everything in its path, carving a path. Then the shadowball stopped, as if hitting some unseen barrier. "I knew it!" Galivan gasped. "I knew it!" Leaving Gilean to his j-pop, the elf slowly made his way back towards Tskull Keep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Galivan did not go unseen, however. On the obsidian pendant's facade, Tsunonu saw the elf. Another cruel smile played across his lips. The elf was clever, true, but such cleverness can be easily manipulated. Dropping the pendant into the pockets of his black robes, the old man breathed the air of his tower in the Blood Sea of Istar. "To oblivion!" he whispered. Then, the old man laughed.

========== ========== ========== ========== ========= What will our happy elf do now?