Chapter Two
One Dwarf Spirit, Two Dwarf Spirit, Three... FLOOR!!

Tanin looked over at his Uncle in concern as he delicately leaned over the rail of the ship and began to purge his lunch. He would have never guessed that his Uncle Raistlin could not handle a simple voyage by sea unless he had seen it with his own eyes. But there it was, and he had been just as sick on the way to Sancrist Isle as he was going to Palanthas. As Raistlin stood up again, wiping his lips with a handkerchief, Tanin walked over, "The sailors tell me that if you stick closer to the middle of the ship the rocking isn't so bad."

"Thank you, Tanin," whispered Raistlin as he staggered uncertainly to the middle of the ship.

Tanin helped to sit and was surprised when a delicate hand offered him a vial. He looked up at Crysania and nodded his thanks as she explained, "This should help his stomach."

Raistlin took the vial and drank it, grimacing as he tasted it. "It takes the attention off my stomach, anyway," he said, then as an afterthought. "Thank you, Crysania."

A small smile crossed her lips, and softly, so only Tanin and Raistlin caught it, "Now, there's a first. You thanking me. Now I know you're sick."

Raistlin rolled his eyes as she walked away. Tanin looked in concern at his Uncle who still seemed a sickly shade of green under the pale skin. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," said Raistlin as he leaned back with his eyes closed. "I can feel whatever she gave me taking effect. Might be the empty stomach. Tanin, if you get the chance, find out what that was."

"Okay, sure," said Tanin as his Uncle fell into a light doze.

Tanin walked over to the rail and watched as the sea moved under and away from him. Even though he was growing to like his Uncle, he still kept in mind his father's caution, Everything Raistlin did, he did to benefit himself. So far, he had to admit that Raistlin was a very cautious man. If there was an ulterior motive to his actions it was very well hidden under his 'good intentions'. Granted, the ulterior motive could be the obvious one of just being able to live again. That wasn't so bad, and Tanin couldn't really blame him if that was his only reason for his deception.

Tanin looked back at his Uncle, who still dozed under the tarp near the center of the ship. He knew his Uncle was evil. There was a darkness to him that Palin had never on his worst day had. But he also seemed to be trying his very best at trying to live as Palin would have. Tanin idly wondered at how much Raistlin had to give up to do so.

Sturm came up to him and asked, "How's Palin?"

"Resting," answered Tanin. "Crysania gave him something for his stomach."

"Another healing potion that puts him to sleep?" Sturm commented drily. "If this keeps up, he'll be sleeping more than Uncle Raistlin."

Tanin chose not to respond to that particular comment, but gave a short bark of laughter at the double irony to it.

Raistlin woke from his nap a few hours later and looked out from under the tarp that he lay under. Noticing that the sun had set, he came out from under it and decided to find his cabin. He walked unsteadily to where he remembered the captain telling he and Tanin where it was and opened the door.

When Crysania's large cat greeted him he realized that his memory was a bit off.

Crysania sat up in bed, her nightgown falling off one alabaster shoulder. Raistlin worried at his lower lip. "Who's there?" she called softly, and the tiger rumbled. "Ah, Rais... Palin. What bothers you?"

"Actually, I had mixed up where my cabin is," he answered, still rooted to the spot. "I... uh... should be going now. Good night, Revered Daughter."

"No, stay please," Crysania motioned for him to enter, and he did so.

The white tiger got up and exited the cabin, choosing to lay outside the door and Raistlin closed the door. Crysania sighed and said, "We are alone?"

"Yes, Revered Daughter... Crysania."

"Please, sit down."

Raistlin moved to the bed, the only place to sit in the cabin other than the chest. He sat on the edge of the bed and he felt her hand on his. "Perhaps you were guided to the right cabin," she said softly. "I would ask what has transpired with you, but I feel I know."

Raistlin shook his head, then remembered that she couldn't see him. "No, not all of it."

"Tell me?"

Those two words seemed to have more of an effect on him than any other he knew. He found himself telling her of the adventures with his nephews, how they seemed to get into more trouble than kender. She smiled at this, and Raistlin noticed that she was falling asleep again. He moved to leave and she pulled at his hand, looking up at him, "Stay."

"What of the Knights, Revered Daughter, and your reputation?" he asked in concern.

"It was tarnished when you left it," she answered with a note of irony. "This won't make it any worse."

Raistlin allowed himself to lay on the bed beside her, his clothes still on, and she lay on her side and her finger made patterns on the hardened leather of the armor he still wore. "This is new," she remarked. "I thought you were a wizard?"

"I am," he answered, then explained. "But before I was the Master of Past and Present, I was also a war wizard. I rue the day I see any war wizard ride into combat without it. It's tantamount to foolishness."

"What about your spells, can't they protect you?"

"They could, Revered... Crysania, if I could cast them fast enough," Raistlin allowed himself a short, if soft, laugh. "I thought the same as you before I found that there are two banes of a wizard's life: a sword or an arrow. If it were only robes, an arrow would have an easier time killing me. At least with this I can shrug more off. The leather may not be better armor than metal, but metal gets in the way of magic."

"And leather doesn't?"

"Well, it does, but I learned to cast with it on when in my apprenticeship, so I've learned methods of reducing the rate of spell failure when wearing it," he looked over as she traced the half leather suit to wear it cut off below the breastplate, then on his arms where he had donned shoulder guards and lower arm guards.

He had to stifle a gasp when her hands roved to his thick leather breeches. "I'm sorry, but without my sight, my hands are how I see," she apologized, then a note of mischief entered her voice. "But you aren't moving very fast to leave."

"I'm just not used to being touched and... explored... like that," he said. "Am I measuring up?"

"You seem to have gained a little weight."

"Tika's cooking."

Crysania laughed at this. "You wear breeches, and a long tunic instead of a robe. But the rest is the same, you still have your belts and spell component bags where they always hang," her hands then went to his head and his face again, and as her fingers tried to tangle themselves into his hair she found that he had tied it back. "Your hair is longer too, you never could tie all of it back so you always wore it loose. Now it's tied back."

"It's out of way," remarked Raistlin. "So, how do you picture me?"

"I see you now, you are as were, only, I am figuring, without your hourglass eyes and gold skin, no?" she said. "Otherwise, people would be calling you by your name, and not your nephew's. I am curious... what is this?"

Her fingers rested on the stone of the Blue Star on his left hand. Raistlin shrugged, "One of my rings, Crysania."

"It is... holy... and not evil," she said as she traced its outline. "In fact, it is... Neutral. So Neutral that I sense nothing of law or chaos in it. Where did you get it?"

"It's a long story, Crysania," he answered. "One that would take years for me to relate. Suffice it to say that I've had it a very long time but paid it no heed until recently, all right?"

She nodded, "Someday, you will have to tell me this story."

"Someday," he promised.

Suddenly he seemed to notice how close she was to his face, how she leaned over him, arms on either side of his body, the rest of her beside him. As he watched her face seemed to close on his until they were mere inches apart, then not even that. "Crysania..." he whispered so low he wasn't sure if she had heard him, but the note within the tone he rather suspected she did when she closed the gap and her lips landed upon his.

He reached up and tangled his hands in her hair, pulling her down to him. The first kiss broke off, and they took in the aftereffects of it, their eyes closed. "Can we do this?" she whispered as he reached up with a hand and swept her hair out of her face.

For a moment they were both afraid that time had just repeated itself when he stiffened, his eyes going over her face. That fearful moment ended when he relaxed and kissed her lips. "We should have years ago..." came his low whisper as he allowed her to undo the leather tie in his hair.

After that it was a blur to Raistlin, and perhaps to Crysania as well, as the kisses grew in intensity and urgency. Her hands found their way to the ties on his armor and in two twists of her fingers, that lay on the floor. Meanwhile his hand was sliding up her flawless hip, even after so many years, she was still as beautiful as he remembered.

She had rolled over on her back, and pulled him to her so that he lay on her as she curled her legs around his to pull him close. He pulled back from her to look her in her sightless eyes. As sightless as they may have been, they were still the same blue he remembered, only now they were darkened to the same shade of sapphire as his Blue Star ring in passion.

He had moved back a little to allow her access to the ties on his breeches when a loud knocking was heard from the door.

The mood seemed to bounce once, then shatter as he rested his head in the mattress of her bed as she got up and pulled on a robe over her filmy nightgown. When Raistlin went to find his tunic, he realized that she had stolen his and has wearing it to the door. Deciding to take whomever was on the other side nonchalantly, he stayed where he was.

She opened the door and confronted the two sons of Caramon. "Um, excuse us, Revered Daughter, but we noticed Palin was missing... oh..." Sturm spotted Raistlin and was struck speechless.

Tanin recovered, finding the situation more amusing than anything else, "Uh, sorry for disturbing you... we'll be going now. Good night!"

Tanin pulled his younger brother from the doorway, and Raistlin saw the almost apologetic expression on the white tiger's face, as if to say, I tried to stop them... Raistlin shrugged although he was a bit frustrated in more ways than one...

Tanin pulled the still stunned Sturm back to the shared quarters where he, Raistlin, and Sturm had been bunking for the trip. Sturm finally shook off the shock enough to say, "Palin... was... with the Revered Daughter of Paladine..."

"And that's so shocking to you?" muttered Tanin, whose caution bells were going off in full alert. "He is a full grown adult. So's she. If they want to share a bed that's their decision."

So history repeats itself, mused Tanin. I'll have to keep an eye on our dear Uncle...

Tanin was not the only one reflecting on how history had just repeated itself. Raistlin and Crysania, the romantic mood irrevocably broken, lay on her bed. Crysania had fallen to sleep, but Raistlin found that sleep was not that easy. However amusing it had been, history had repeated itself. Where last time it had been Raistlin who had flung her away, this time a disturbance had simply broken the mood.

He sighed and closed his eyes. It wasn't his nephew's fault, really, he reflected. How were they supposed to know that behind one closed door was a sharing that they were about to disturb when they did it? Precisely. They had not. Sighing again, Raistlin tried to fall asleep.

But sleep would not come.

The next morning Raistlin was on deck, a little worse for lack of sleep. He leaned on the rail, this time too deep in thoughts to be wracked by yesterday's seasickness. Tanin was a bit nervous to approach, even if the captain had told him that they would be reaching the first port in their journey. "Um, Palin?" Tanin thought it would be better to get it over with now. "Look, I'm sorry about last night."

"It's fine, Tanin," came Raistlin's low voice.

"Are you sure, I feel kinda crappy about it, though..." admitted Tanin, and this got a slight lift of an eyebrow.

"I assure you, it's fine. Wasn't meant to be..."

Tanin caught the regretful note in his Uncle's voice. Oh jeez, thought Tanin. Now I've depressed him. "The captain tells me that we should reach Thonvil by late afternoon, early evening. He says we also have a few days in port as they unload their cargo," Tanin said. "Sturm and I were thinking that perhaps to see the sights...."

"Sights?" this raised a curious note in Raistlin's voice. "You mean 'look for adventure', right?"

"Well... that is part of being a Solamnic Knight," answered Tanin. "Helping out, I mean."

His Uncle rolled his eyes while picking at non-existent lint on his armor. "What about Vingaard?"

"We are assigned there, but Grand Master Uth Wistan told us to fulfill our duties along the way," answered Tanin.

Raistlin suddenly understood, "So... you assignment isn't waiting for you in Vingaard, it's the actual assignment itself? Just getting there? How likely is it that once we get there that we'll be sent right back?"

Tanin smiled, a smile that reminded him of Caramon. "Likely!" came his cheerful answer, glad that his Uncle had 'gotten it'.

Raistlin put his head on his arms and only groaned.

Just as the sun was about to begin its descent into the sea when suddenly land blazed within sight. "Land ho!" called the man in the crow's nest and Tanin grinned.

His Uncle's seasickness had returned with a full vengeance shortly after lunch, and Raistlin was again dozing the hottest point of the day away under the central tarp.

A few short hours later, the boat slid gracefully into port with a gentle bump. Tanin went to wake Raistlin and found that the archmage was already awake and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his left hand while idly bouncing the other off his leg. "My hand fell asleep," explained Raistlin as he stood and massaged his hand. "Now I feel like I have pins and needles."

"We're here!" said Sturm. "What should we see first?"

"Well, before we go anywhere, I should see to some spell components," pointed out Raistlin. "So we should find a market or something."

They walked down the gangplank, gear in hand, and Raistlin took a welcoming breath after being on solid ground again. Sturm, in amusement, poked Tanin and pointed out, "The Great Wizard hath a weakness brother."

"Yeah, he gets seasick," laughed Tanin.

Raistlin followed the two of them into Thonvil. Raistlin's first impression of the place was a bustling port town. He idly brushed a stray strand of hair out of his eyes, and ignored the stares of the people all in one motion. Tanin had to admire that about his Uncle even as it made him more than slightly nervous. Everything seemed to just roll off his back like it was nothing at all to him.

Finally, Tanin pointed out a tavern and said, "Maybe they can point us to an inn?"

When they entered, Raistlin read the sign, "Red Wizard's Folly. Sounds like a nice place."

What they found inside was even worse. Raistlin grew grim as he saw the near endless mercenaries. The only break in the heavily armed men and occasional woman was the small group of gnomes that sat drinking with a flamboyant dwarf. Upon their entrance the gnomes pointed to Raistlin and muttered to themselves excitedly. The dwarf was often called upon to calm down their chatter.

Unfortunately, the only place to sit was at a table next to theirs considering no one was wanting to be even near them. Sturm took a table closest to the fireplace and Raistlin sat in the chair closest. Raistlin allowed himself a moment to sit and relax while the brothers ordered ale. The barmaid, while getting a bit too close to Raistlin than he would have preferred (as well as giving him a view of her cleavage best left to a man's imagination...) asked him, "And for you, good sir?"

"White wine," he answered. "Preferably elven."

She flounced (for there was no other word to describe it) back to the bar. Raistlin turned his attention back to the gnomes where they had turned their full attention back on him. Sighing, looking up as he did so, he asked them pointedly, "Is there something interesting about me?"

The dwarf answered, "Actually yes, yes there is. You three wouldn't happen to be brave adventurers, would you?"

Sturm smiled and answered, "Of course we are! I'm Sturm Majere, this is my older brother Tanin, and the wizard is my younger brother Palin Majere."

If it were possible, the other mercenaries moved even farther away. "So, that staff would be the famed Staff of Magius?" asked the dwarf, and Raistlin's curt nod, he laughed heartily. "My name is Dougan Redhammer, and these fellows are... well... they always speak too fast for me to catch their names. Now, you were saying you are adventurers."

"Actually, we're Knights of Solamnia," said Tanin, clarifying. "Palin is an auxiliary knight since he's a Wizard of the White Robes."

Raistlin noticed Dougan's look of disbelief. "Of the White Robes you say?" one of this eyebrow's lifted. "Really."

"Yes," answered Sturm proudly, and both Tanin and Raistlin rolled their eyes. "He passed his Test last year. We have high hopes for him."

Dougan looked from Raistlin to Sturm and back to Raistlin again. "Last year?"

With a wan smile, Raistlin nodded. "It was the Test of a lifetime. Felt like it took that long too."

"Well, perhaps I can interest you in a wager..." Dougan looked at the boys, from Sturm's eager face, to Tanin's cautious, but curious face to Raistlin's.... Well, he had always played with his cards close to his vest. Why should now be any different? "... I have in my supply some dwarf spirits. It will put hair on young men's chests... if you can out drink me and the gnomes, we can give you a map to nearby cavern where there's treasure to be had. If we out drink you, you have to help us with our little journey."

Before Sturm could say anything, Raistlin said, "A map? That's it? And why would steel or jewels interest Knights?"

"Shrewd fellow," pointed out Dougan to his gnome companions. "Well, rumor has it that a holy item to Kiri-Jolith is amongst the treasure, and as much as the Knights have searched for it, they haven't found it yet. Our map clearly points to the ruins and how to get around the dangers that lurk there. Interested? Or is that not enough reason for you?"

Sturm leapt in with before Raistlin could speak up again, "Surely! We're in!"

"Oh no," mumbled Raistlin as he brought one hand up to his head.

"We'll go first, just to give you humans a fair chance," Dougan called the barmaid over and passed around the flasks of dwarf spirits.

Raistlin watched, knowing the outcome. As expected, except for one weaker gnome, none showed any signs of inebriation. Not good for them. He rather suspected, that like that small gnome, that the first to be passed out would likely be him.

Dougan passed them each a flask and Raistlin watched as first Tanin, after a cautious sip, said, "You know, Father is going to skin us alive."

Tanin then drank the flask. Sturm pointed out right before finishing his own flask, "If Mother doesn't beat him to it."

Afterwards, the two brothers looked at Raistlin in expectation. He caught Dougan's interested gaze, as well as the gnomes. Raistlin tipped the flask to Dougan in mock salute, "I blame you for whatever happens after this."

He drank the flask. It wasn't so bad going down. Tasted a bit of the subtle mushrooms used in the brewing process... then the after bite hit him. Raistlin fought back, not only tears as it burned a warm trail down his insides, but also a coughing fit as he fought to catch his breath as he fought said burning trail. Once he had recovered, with Sturm clapping him on the back and Tanin on his feet and supported his chair, he said in a hoarse whisper, "Please tell me one of the gnomes lost. Don't make me drink another..."

Catching his breath, he saw Dougan's wide eyes, and a warm sensation in his hand caused him to look down at the Blue Star and see Dougan for who, and what, he really was.

Oh drat.

He was caught red handed as it were. Dougan Redhammer was no ordinary dwarf. He was Reorx, God of the Forge. Considering the surprised look to Dougan, he guessed that only the Gods of Magic, and Takhisis, knew about his return. Raistlin shook his head, straightened up and leaned back in his chair. "Your turn, Dougan," he said.

Dougan smiled and tipped up the refilled glass. "To your health, Master Majere," he said right before drinking.

The gnomes drank their mugs, and all too soon, for Raistlin, it came to be their turn again. He mentally went through his spells and wondered if any of them would he of any help to him, but knew that would be taken as cheating. Too bad that little gnome in the corner... a sleep spell would have won the Majere's the contest. Tanin drank his flask, choked on it, and took a steadying breath. Two. Tanin was near his limit with two. A little line of cold sweat worked its way down Raistlin's spine as he watched Sturm drink his. With much relief, Sturm didn't show any overt adverse affects.

However, if Tanin couldn't hold more than two, Raistlin might as well admit defeat. He watched as his mug was filled and he tipped it to Dougan. "Remember well what I said, Master Redhammer."

Raistlin drank it and the effect was near immediate. Granted, the burning sensation wasn't so bad as it had been, in fact, it was almost pleasant. If feeling like a hole was about to be bored through your gut was considered pleasant...

Tanin watched with detached morbid curiosity as his Uncle finished the mug of dwarf spirits in one pull... and promptly fainted. It was almost a relief as his own head seemed to hit the table. Sturm stood unsteadily and slurred, "My brother... have to help my brother..." before he hit the floor too.

Dougan looked at the passed out Raistlin. "Well, that was certainly historic..."

A/N: Is anyone reading this, anyone at all?