Conundrum (Dragonlance: The Age of Mortals) by Jeff Crook

By Jeff Crook

On a dismal spring evening, 9 weeks not on time, the MNS Indestructible, a category C Submersible Deepswimmer, departs Sancrist Isle with a staff of twenty and a callous fail to remember for the inevitable.

Armed with top-secret units, a band of intrepid gnome explorers units out on a mythical trip to sub-navigate the continent of Ansalon and confirm why very huge rocks glide. even though the destiny of the area doesn't cling within the stability, theirs definitely does.

This is their story--and the tale of a unmarried member of that ignoble staff: Conundrum, the heroic gnome featured in Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman's best-selling warfare of Souls trilogy.

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Extra resources for Conundrum (Dragonlance: The Age of Mortals)

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You are, however, granted permission to use it sparingly to power your own spells. I cannot stress enough that you are to use its magic sparingly, and only in the direst emergency. You are further ordered to kill the messenger. If you fail, she will take your place. — The Voice of the Night Sir Tanar looked up from the letter to find the woman toweling off with a flour sack. Her back was half turned, but he took no chances. Reaching across the bed, he touched the silver plate and began to chant the words to his protection spell.

The Knight’s horse continued obliviously across the meadow and vanished into the undergrowth of the trees beyond. The top half of the Knight finally rolled to a stop, expelling during its last few revolutions a gnome (whole and uninjured except for his pride) wearing only a dirty white loincloth and a rag wound turbanlike around his enormous bald brown head. As soon as he regained his feet, the gnome dove on top of the still-thrashing upper half of his armor, reached inside, and with a curse worthy of a dwarf, twisted some knob that shut the thing off.

From beyond the black, seaweed-draped boulders shot a small dark object, roughly spherical and trailing a beard of fire. They heard a faint roar, like a great army cheering its champion as he rides out to deliver a challenge. The object scribed a perfect parabola out over the surging waves and fell with a thunderous splash a quarter mile out to sea. A little puff of steam marked the place where it fell. The cheering passed into groans of disappointment, which eventually tapered off into the percussion noises of hammers and the sighing of saws.

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