his clan, had those gentlemen ever happened to pay Flint a visit, an occurrence which was highly unlikely. Flint

was not particularly fond of humans, however, especially young ones. Humans were changeable and impetuous,

prone to acting rashly and impulsively and, in the dwarf's mind, dangerously. Some dwarven scholars attributed

these characteristics to the human's short life span, but Flint held that was only an excuse. Humans, to his way of

thinking, were simply addled.

The dwarf fell back on an old ploy, one that always worked well for him when confronted by human visitors.

"I would be very pleased if you could stay to dinner," said the dwarf, "but as you can see, we don't have a

single chair that will fit you."

"I'll go borrow some," offered Tasslehoff, heading for the door, only to be stopped short by the tremendous

cry of "No!" that burst simultaneously from four throats.

Flint mopped his face with his beard. A vision of the suddenly chairless people of Solace descending on him

in droves caused him to break out in a cold sweat.

"Please do not trouble yourself," said Sturm, with that cursed formal politeness typical of Solamnic knights. "I

do not mind sitting on the floor."

"I can sit here," Caramon offered, dragging over a wooden chest and plopping down on it. His weight caused

the hand-carved chest to creak alarmingly.

"You have a chair that would fit Raistlin," Tasslehoff reminded him. "It's in your bedroom. You know, the one

we always use whenever Tanis comes over to- Why are you making those faces at me? Do you have something

in your eye? Let me look...."

"Get away from me!" Flint roared.

His face flushed red, the dwarf fumbled in his pocket for the key to the bedroom. He always kept the door

locked, changed the lock at least once a week. This didn't stop the kender from entering, but at least it slowed

him down some. Stomping into the bedroom, Flint dragged out the chair that he saved for the use of his friend

and kept hidden the rest of the time.

Positioning the chair, the dwarf took a good hard look at his visitors. The young man called Raistlin was thin,

much too thin, as far as the dwarf was concerned, and the cloak he was wearing was threadbare and not at all

suited to keep out the autumn chill. He was shivering, his lips were pale with the cold. The dwarf felt a bit

ashamed for his lack of hospitality.

"Here you go," he said. Positioning the chair near the fire, he added gruffly, "You seem a bit cold, lad. Sit

down and warm yourself. And you"-he glowered at the kender-"if you want to make yourself useful, go to Otik's

and buy-buy, mind you!-a jug of his apple cider."

"I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail," Tas promised. "But why two shakes? Why not three? And do

lambs even have tails? I don't see how-"

Flint slammed the door on him.

Raistlin had taken his seat, edged the chair even closer to the fire. Blue eyes, of a startling clarity, regarded the

dwarf with an intense gravity that made Flint feel extremely uncomfortable.

"It is not really necessary for you to give us dinner-" Raistlin began.

"It isn't?" exclaimed Caramon, dismayed. "What'd we come here for, then?"

His twin flashed him a look that caused the bigger youth to squirm uncomfortably and duck his head. Raistlin

turned back to Flint.

"The reason we came is this: My brother and I wanted to thank you in person for speaking up for us against

that woman"-he refused to dignify her with a name-"at our father's funeral."

Now Flint recalled how he knew these youngsters. Oh, he'd seen them around town since they were old

enough to be

underfoot, but he had forgotten this particular connection.

"It was nothing special," protested the dwarf, embarrassed at being thanked. "The woman was daft! Belzor"

Flint snorted. "What god worth his beard would go around calling himself by the name of Belzor? I was sorry to

hear about your mother, lads," he added, more kindly.

Raistlin made no response to that, dismissed it with a flicker of his eyelids. "You mentioned the name 'Reorx.'

I have been doing some studying, and I find that Reorx is the name for a god that your people once worshiped."