When the others finally joined them and a torch was lit, many more dwarven images were revealed. Carved into the walls of the cave, each visage was different and incredibly detailed: men, women, children, some warriors by their helmets and scarred faces, others religious folk by the symbols worn around their necks. A myriad of emotions were displayed on the faces: happiness, pride, grief, love, wonder, and more.

The floor was smooth and level. The chips of painted stone were tiled across it to form the face of a most impressive dwarf, wild hair flaring out to touch the cavern walls, the pillars practically framing an aged, wise-looking leader. The color had faded, but Dhamon surmised the braided beard was bright red at one time, and the beads woven into it were tinged with silver and gold. The wide-set eyes were sunken and black, forming braziers that might have been used in some long-ago ceremony.

"Reorx," Dhamon said, his hand drifting down to the pommel of his sword. The nape of his neck was tingling. Something didn't feel right in this place, but he couldn't identify what was wrong. He stared into the image's eyes. It was like someone was watching him, a sensation he learned to identify when he was with the Knights of Takhisis. He wanted to be back in Bloten, with his new sword and on his way. He glanced away and to the pillars. "This must be one of Reorx's temples."

"Who?" Rikali tugged on his sleeve. "Who is Re-or-ax?"

"You don't know?" This from Fetch.

The half-elf shook her head.

"A god," Dhamon said softly. "A dwarf I once knew, Jasper, told me a lot about him. Jasper considered himself a priest of Reorx. Even after the gods left."

"And this Jasper, did he ever meet Re-or-ax?"

Dhamon shook his head.

Rikali made a tsking sound and whispered it was foolish to revere someone you'd never met. She raised her voice. "Well, did this Re-or-ax accomplish much when he was around? Other than to have temples built to him high in some stupid mountain?"

"According to dwarven tales, Riki, the High God was disturbed at the jumbled chaos all around him. He whittled twenty-one sticks, the stoutest of which became the god Reorx." Dhamon pointed at the image on the floor. "Reorx said he would make a world, round and sturdy, in his own likeness. He was called the Forger, and by striking his hammer at the jumbled chaos, the sparks became stars. The last blow birthed Krynn. I'd say that's accomplishing quite a bit."

"So the tales say," the half-elf laughed. "You don't believe all that nonsense, do you? Not that it matters none, what with all the gods being gone anyway."

Dhamon shrugged. "When the gods were here, the dwarves considered Reorx the greatest of all the powers. Humans saw him merely as Kiri-Jolith's helper. But the dwarves…" His voice drifted off and again he found himself staring at the pits that made up the image's eyes. "It is said that Reorx's next-greatest creation was the Grey-stone of Gargath, which led to the creation of dwarves, gnomes, and kender."

"So the tales say," Fetch added.

"Greystone. So he made a rock. And did you ever worship this Re-or-ax, lover? You seem to know a lot about him."

"The only vanished god I ever revered was Takhisis," Dhamon answered flatly. He recalled being regaled with tales of the Queen of Evil Dragons from the time he entered the Knights of Takhisis. But none of her priests' old worship halls were as impressive as this place. This place definitely intrigued him, perhaps in part because he still had that tingling sensation. He decided he would look around for a few moments, then head back down the mountain, demanding Donnag relinquish the blade.

"And why are you so terribly certain this place was a temple to Re-or-ax? Not just a palace belonging to some old rich dwarf?"

Dhamon brushed by the half-elf and glanced toward the far end of the chamber, where there was an altar carved to look like a forge with an anvil atop it. Two shadowy alcoves extended behind it. "Aye, this was a temple to Reorx the Forge. Wonder that the Knollsbank folk didn't mention this, especially the mountain dwarves."

Maldred was at the entrance, examining the stone. "Probably didn't know it was here. The rocks are sharp, Dhamon, not worn like they are everywhere else on the mountain and around the other cave openings. I'd say one of the tremors opened this place up, and not very long ago." His fingers fluttered over the edges, drawing back as he cut himself. He licked the blood away and joined Dhamon. "I would guess this hasn't been open more than a month. Feel how dry it is inside here? Despite the rain?"

"It smells old," the half-elf said, wrinkling her nose. "Smells like a musty cellar in someone's house." She stood in front of one of the pillars, fingers tracing the features of a face at eye-level. "Said I had my fill of dwarves, I did," she mused aloud. "But I might make me an exception. Might be something valuable here in this temple to Re-or-ax." She pointed to the image of a dwarven priest a dozen feet above the floor. The figure had chips of onyx set for eyes.

"We shouldn't try to take anything." Fiona was looking at another pillar, this one filled with the broad faces of female warriors. "To defile a temple is wrong. Sacrilege, no matter your faith."

The half-elf cackled and adopted an exaggerated hurt look. "I have no faith. The gods are gone, Lady Knight. So this is a temple to nothin'. Absolutely nothin'. Pigs! I can take whatever I please. I won't be defiling anyone or any-thin'. And there ain't no gods around to come and damn me for it."

Fetch had begun climbing a pillar, using the ears as handholds and the mouths for his toes.

Maldred glanced up at the kobold and shook his head. "Come on down, Ilbreth," he said sternly.

The kobold's head spun in surprise at Maldred using his real name-which he did only when he was very mad or earnestly wanted to get the creature's attention-and the kobold nearly lost his grip.

"Dwarven gods are of no concern to us. We've got giants to find, my little friend, and then…"

Fetch was holding onto an ear with one hand and gesturing wildly with the other. His mouth was open, as if to speak, but his surprise kept the words from coming out.

Dhamon spun instinctively, retrieving his bow in the same motion. He pulled an arrow from the quiver, fitted it, and aimed-at what?

"Thought I saw the cave move," the kobold finally managed to gasp. "I really thought I… there! A giant!"

Something was watching us! Dhamon released his arrow at a huge creature that suddenly came shambling out of the wall. But it wasn't a true giant. It was only a little larger than an ogre, with overlong arms and clawed hands. It looked like it was made of stone.

The creature reached out, batted Dhamon's arrow away before it could find its mark, and snarled ferociously. The creature had the face of an old man, wrinkles looking like cracks in stone, cheekbones exaggeratedly angular, nose long and curved down like a beak. Its eyes were pupiless and dark gray, and its teeth were jagged and shot through with black lines, making them look like shards of granite.

Dhamon immediately set another arrow and fired, this missing the creature by several inches. His hand moved lightning fast as he fitted a third and aimed more carefully this time. The creature's eyes locked onto his, just as Dhamon pulled the bowstring back and released it.

"Damn," he swore, as he watched the arrow glance off the thing's bony-looking shoulder. He dropped the bow and shrugged out of the quiver. "Wasted my coins on this in Bloten. Should stick with what I know." He drew his sword and advanced.

The others were doing the same, drawing weapons and moving in cautiously, studying the creature-the likes of which none of them had seen. They formed a semicircle about it, the creature keeping its back to the wall and eyeing all of them.