Free Kender, Gully Dwarves, Gnomes by Various Page A

into the dwarf's head and chest and dashed him against the far
     wall with such force that he crumpled to the floor in a daze. The Glasses of True Seeing
     fell from his face into his lap, adding natural blindness to the old hermit's stupor. He
     could still see the gaping doorway because of the sunlight outside the entrance. He could
     also see a bulky figure clad and cowled in rough wool framed by the shattered sill.
    “Idiot! What have you done?”
    Dalamar's distinctive accent boomed in the small chamber.
    “Dalamar!” the hermit tried to cry. “Help . . .”
    “Quiet, you ignorant fool! I must try to undo what you've done before the gate widens!”
    Blood from several gashes in his head blinded the dwarf even more. He was growing weaker
     and was clutching desperately to consciousness. Through the haze, he could barely see
     Dalamar marking the floor with a bit of chalk. Tentacled paws and stranger appendages were
     probing the air above the dark elf's head while he began chanting a singsong phrase over
     and over again from within the sanctuary of the hastily drawn pentagram.
    For a moment it seemed that the horde of unearthly creatures Lodston had freed would swarm
     into the chamber and engulf the wizard. Yet he faced the monstrous beings with
     unflinching, intense concentration until the “gate” began to close. Then Dalamar raised
     both hands and his voice, crying the same phrase as loudly as he could. The final surge of
     energy was enough to dissipate the rest of the ethereal light. Silence and semidarkness
     enveloped the
    hermit's fading thoughts. Dalamar glanced first at the dwarf and then at the crude
    table that held the open chest with his spellbooks and the remaining scrolls. The dark elf
     began removing the magical writings from the chest, examining each one for signs of damage.
    “H ... H ... Help me, D ... D ... Dalamar,” Lodston pleaded weakly. He crawled forward,
     trailing blood from his many wounds, until he could grasp the elf's ankle in his gnarled
     hand. “I n ... n ... need some w ... w ... water.”
    Dalamar pulled his leg firmly away from the hermit's clutching fingers.
    “You'll need nothing in a moment or two, old dwarf,” he told the hermit. “You will have
     peace, but you will have paid dearly for your disobedience. Already the dweomer of your
     bumbling incantations has spread northward to Qualinesti, if not farther. This quiet
     village will be drawn into the Dark Queen's war, thanks to you and your meddling. But you
     will have peace.”
    Dalamar watched in grim silence while Lodston's grasping fingers relaxed on the floor at
     his feet. Then he threw the hermit's crude cloak to one side and stooped to retrieve his
     black robe from the dwarf's body.
    Milo Martin could see that something was very wrong the moment he arrived at the riverside
     trail leading to Lodston's gold mine. He left the sacks of provisions on the trail and
     picked his way stealthily among the bushes until he could see the darkened entrance.
    Fragments of the heavy door were hanging from its sill by only one hinge. Some terrible
     force had blasted the thick portal inward, shattering it as if it had been an eggshell.
     The nervous storekeeper crept closer to examine the ground for tracks. The sandy soil was
     riddled with hundreds of footprints, tracks of boots with low heels, the kind commonly
     worn by elves. He also noted pawprints of large dogs, possibly bloodhounds used to track
     criminals. Satisfied that none of Lodston's visitors were still in the vicinity of the
     mine, Martin crossed warily to the gaping doorway. Then he called in a low, halting voice,
     as though he dreaded either an answer or no answer at all.
    “Nugold! Nugold Lodston! It's Milo Martin, with your goods!”
    Somehow the silence seemed more ominous than a reply might have to the cautious
     shopkeeper. He entered the murky chamber, stepping over the debris from what had been the
     door.