Iroden Scene One

      "Get lost you little thief!" the human woman yelled, slamming the door in Iroden's face.

     Iroden stumbled away from the house, his cheeks hot with shame. "I'm no thief," he yelled. "I'm a cleric of E'li. I know every language of every race on Krynn. I could call on E'li to heal your aching joints, and I could teach your children to read and write."

     He paused at the front gate and dropped his voice to a whisper, "all I ask in return is a little food and a place to sleep." But she hadn't even given him a chance to ask.

     The woman's husband walked up the path to the house, saw Iroden, frowned, and said, "get out of here you stupid kender."

     He lifted Iroden over the gate and tossed him into the street.

     Iroden waited for him to walk away before standing and brushing off his ragged robes. They'd once been soft and white with elegant gold embroidery down the sleeves and on the hem. They didn't fit anymore because of the curse that had transformed him.

     Once he'd been a graceful elf with fair skin and golden hair. The curse had changed him into a kender--one of the annoying race of beings that wondered the world getting into mischief and bothering everyone. He was short, nearly child-sized, with dark brown hair and tan skin.

     He'd been thrust from the heights of civilization and knowledge and turned into no more than a worm, groveling in the road for his food.

     His stomach grumbled. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. Starvation stalked him. He stumbled away from the farm. Maybe in Palanthas someone would believe him. It was a long hard road, but he had nowhere else to go.

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