'Do they all look like that?' Goldmoon said, her eyes wide. 'They're so filthy and ragged, and there are sores all over their bodies.'
'And they have the brains of a doorknob,' Flint grunted.
The group cautiously rounded the comer, hands on their weapons. A long, narrow corridor extended east, lit by torches that flickered and smoked in the stifling air. The light reflected off walls wet with condensed moisture. Arched doorways revealing only blackness opened up off the hallway
'The crypts,' Raistlin whispered.
Tanis shivered. Water dripped on him from the ceiling. The metallic screeching was louder and nearer. Goldmoon touched the half-elf's arm and pointed. Tanis saw, down at the far end of the corridor, a doorway. Beyond the opening was another passageway forming a T-intersection. The corridor was filled with gully dwarves.
'I wonder why the little guys are lined up,' Caramon said.
'This is our chance to find out,' Tanis said. He was starting forward when he felt the mage's hand on his arm.
'Leave this to me,' Raistlin whispered.
'We had better come with you,' Sturm stated, 'to cover you, of course.'
'Of course,' Raistlin sniffed. 'Very well, but do not disturb me.'
Tanis nodded. 'Flint, you and Riverwind guard this end of the corridor,' Flint opened his mouth to protest, then scowled and fell back to stand opposite the Plainsmen.
'Stay well behind me,' Raistlin ordered, then moved down the corridor, his red robes rustling around his ankles, the Staff of Magius thumping softly on the floor at each step. Tanis and Sturm followed, moving along the side of the dripping walls. Cold air flowed from the crypts. Peering inside one, Tanis could see the dark outline of a sarcophagus reflected in the sputtering torchlight. The coffin was elaborately carved, decorated with gold that shone no longer. An oppressive air hung over the crypts. Some of the tombs appeared to have been broken into and plundered. Tanis caught a glimpse of a skull grinning out of the darkness. He wondered if these ancient dead were planning their revenge for having their rest disturbed. Tanis forced himself to return to reality. It was bleak enough.
Raistlin stopped when he neared the end of the corridor. The gully dwarves watched him curiously, ignoring the others behind him. The mage did not speak. He reached into a pouch on his belt and drew out several golden coins. The gully dwarves' eyes brightened. One or two at the front of the line edged toward Raistlin to get a better view. The mage held up a coin so they all could see it. Then he threw it high into the air and… it vanished!
The gully dwarves gasped. Raistlin opened his hand with a flourish to reveal the coin. There was scattered applause. The gully dwarves crept closer, mouths gaping in wonder.
Gully dwarves-or Aghar, as their race was known-were truly a miserable lot. The lowest caste in dwarven society, they were to be found all over Krynn, living in filth and squalor in places that had been abandoned by most other living creatures, including animals. Like all dwarves, they were clannish, and several clans often lived together, following the rule of their chieftains or one particularly powerful clan leader. Three clans lived in Xak Tsaroth-the Sluds, the Bulps, and the Glups. Members of all three clans now surrounded Raistlin. There were both males and females, though it was not easy to tell the sexes apart. The females lacked whiskers on their chins but had them on their cheeks. They wore a tattered overskirt wrapped around their waists extending to their bony knees. Otherwise, they were every bit as ugly as their male counterparts. Despite their wretched appearance, gully dwarves generally led a cheerful existence.
Raistlin, with marvelous dexterity, made the coin dance over his knuckles, flipping it in and out of his fingers. Then he made it disappear, only to reappear inside the ear of some startled gully dwarf who stared at the mage in amazement. This last trick produced a momentary interruption in the performance as the Aghar's friends grabbed him and peered intently into his ear, one of them even sticking his finger inside to see if more coins might be forthcoming. This interesting activity ceased, though, when Raistlin reached into another pouch and removed a small scroll of parchment. Spreading it open with his long, thin fingers, the mage began to read from it, chanting softly, 'SuA tangus moipar, ast akular kalipar' The gully dwarves watched in total fascination.
When the mage finished reading, the spidery-looking words on the scroll began to burn. They flared, then disappeared, leaving traces of green smoke.
'What was that all about?' Sturm asked suspiciously.
'They are now spellbound,' Raistlin replied. 'I have cast over them a spell of friendship.'
The gully dwarves were enthralled and, Tanis noticed, the expressions on their faces had changed from interest to open, unabashed affection for the mage. They reached out and patted him with their dirty hands, jabbering away in their shapeless language. Sturm glanced at Tanis in alarm. Tanis knew what the knight was thinking; Raistlin could have cast that spell on any of them at any time.
Hearing the sound of running feet, Tanis looked quickly back to where Riverwind stood guard. The Plainsman pointed to the gully dwarves, then held up his hands, fingers spread. Ten more were heading their way. Soon, the new Aghar trotted into view, passing Riverwind without so much as a glance. They pulled up short on seeing the commotion around the mage.
'What happening?' said one, staring at Raistlin. The spellbound gully dwarves were gathered around the mage, tugging on his robe and dragging him down the hall.
'Friend. This our friend,' they all chattered wildly in a crude form of Common.
'Yes,' Raistlin said in a soft and gentle voice, so smooth and winning that Tanis was momentarily taken aback. 'You are all my friends,' the mage continued. 'Now, tell me, my friends- where does this corridor lead?' Raistlin pointed to the east.
There was an immediate babble of answers.
'Corridor lead that way,' said one, pointing east.
'No, it lead that way!' said another, pointing west.
A scuffle broke out, the gully dwarves pushing and shoving. Soon fists were flying and then one gully dwarf had another on the ground, kicking him, yelling, 'That way! That way!' at the top of his lungs.
Sturm turned to Tanis. 'This is ridiculous! They'll bring every draconian in the place down on us. I don't know what that crazy magician has done, but you've got to stop him.'
Before Tanis could intervene, however, one female gully dwarf took matters into her own hands. Dashing into the melee, she grabbed the two combatants, knocked their heads together smartly, and dumped them on the floor. The others, who had been cheering them on, immediately hushed, and the newcomer turned to Raistlin. She had a thick, bulbous nose and her hair stood up wildly on her head. She wore a patched and ragged dress, thick shoes, and stockings that collapsed around her ankles. But she seemed to be a leader among the gully dwarves, for they all eyed her with respect. This may have been because she carried a huge, heavy bag slung over one shoulder. The bag dragged along the ground as she walked, occasionally tripping her. But the bag was apparently of great importance to her. When one of the other gully dwarves attempted to touch it, she whirled around and smacked him across the face.
'Corridor lead to big bosses,' she said, nodding her head toward the east.
'Thank you, my dear,' Raistlin said, reaching out to touch her cheek. He spoke a few words, 'Tan-tago, musalah.'
The female gully dwarf watched, fascinated, as he spoke. Then she sighed and gazed up at him in adoration.
'Tell me, little one,' Raistlin said. 'How many bosses?'
The gully dwarf frowned, concentrating. She raised a grubby hand. 'One,' she said, holding up one finger. 'And one, and one, and one.' Looking up at Raistlin triumphantly, she held up four fingers and said, 'Two.'
'I'm beginning to agree with Flint,' Sturm growled.
'Shhhh,' Tanis said. Just then the screeching noise stopped. The gully dwarves looked down the corridor uneasily as into the silence came the harsh cracking sound again.
'What is that noise?' Raistlin asked his spellbound adorer.
'Whip,' the female gully dwarf said emotionlessly. Reaching out her filthy hand, she took hold of Raistlin's robe and started to pull him toward the east end of the corridor. 'Bosses get mad. We go.'
'What is it you do for the bosses?' Raistlin asked, holding back.
'We go. You see.' The gully dwarf tugged on him. 'We down. They up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Come. You
