They were three days from Pax Tharkas
when Tasselhoff Burrfoot
discovered something remarkable.
Which is to say —
he found it
in Raistlin’s spellbook
while it was closed.
“I wasn’t snooping,” Tass insisted,
holding the book upside down.
“I was just making sure it wasn’t lonely.”
Raistlin’s golden eyes narrowed.
“That,” he whispered,
“is not how one reads High Sorcery.”
Tass blinked.
“It reads perfectly fine this way.
Actually, I think it’s safer.
All the dangerous words fall upward.”
Later — around the campfire —
Tass was explaining magic
to a deeply unimpressed dwarf.
“Of course I can cast spells,”
the kender declared proudly.
“I’ve memorized the important syllables.”
Raistlin looked up.
“Oh?” he breathed softly.
“You have?”
Tass puffed his chest.
“I am, in fact,
one of the greatest living mages in—”
“Dragonlance?” Raistlin suggested thinly.
“Yes! Exactly! That!”
He produced what he had “borrowed”:
• dried mushrooms (possibly socks)
• crushed sulfur (definitely cheese)
• a small vial of something glowing (Caramon’s shaving oil)
• and a spoon
“What are you doing?” asked Raistlin quietly.
“Advanced incantation,” Tass replied.
He planted his feet dramatically near the latrine corner
of a modest roadside inn.
He raised the upside-down spellbook.
And began:
“Uhjagfi tassiyto jukitakatur na—”
Raistlin inhaled sharply.
“—BOOM.”
A fireball exploded from the exact wrong direction.
The inn shook.
Smoke rolled.
A crater smoldered.
Everything in the corner was obliterated.
Everything.
Except the latrine.
Which remained.
Intact.
Untouched.
Perfect.
A stunned man slowly stood up inside it.
Half of his beard had been roasted away.
His trousers were smoking.
He blinked.
Raistlin stared at the devastation.
Then at Tass.
Then at the perfectly preserved latrine.
And finally exhaled one word.
“Kender.”
Tass beamed.
“See? Controlled magical detonation.”
The dwarf stared at the burning wall.
Raistlin pinched the bridge of his nose.
And somewhere in the distance,
the gods of magic
very quietly
wept.
Feb 28
Feb 28, 2026 at 11:45 AM UTC
They were three days from Pax Tharkas
when Tasselhoff Burrfoot
discovered something remarkable.
Which is to say —
he found it
in Raistlin’s spellbook
while it was closed.
“I wasn’t snooping,” Tass insisted,
holding the book upside down.
“I was just making sure it wasn’t lonely.”
Raistlin’s golden eyes narrowed.
“That,” he whispered,
“is not how one reads High Sorcery.”
Tass blinked.
“It reads perfectly fine this way.
Actually, I think it’s safer.
All the dangerous words fall upward.”
Later — around the campfire —
Tass was explaining magic
to a deeply unimpressed dwarf.
“Of course I can cast spells,”
the kender declared proudly.
“I’ve memorized the important syllables.”
Raistlin looked up.
“Oh?” he breathed softly.
“You have?”
Tass puffed his chest.
“I am, in fact,
one of the greatest living mages in—”
“Dragonlance?” Raistlin suggested thinly.
“Yes! Exactly! That!”
He produced what he had “borrowed”:
• dried mushrooms (possibly socks)
• crushed sulfur (definitely cheese)
• a small vial of something glowing (Caramon’s shaving oil)
• and a spoon
“What are you doing?” asked Raistlin quietly.
“Advanced incantation,” Tass replied.
He planted his feet dramatically near the latrine corner
of a modest roadside inn.
He raised the upside-down spellbook.
And began:
“Uhjagfi tassiyto jukitakatur na—”
Raistlin inhaled sharply.
“—BOOM.”
A fireball exploded from the exact wrong direction.
The inn shook.
Smoke rolled.
A crater smoldered.
Everything in the corner was obliterated.
Everything.
Except the latrine.
Which remained.
Intact.
Untouched.
Perfect.
A stunned man slowly stood up inside it.
Half of his beard had been roasted away.
His trousers were smoking.
He blinked.
Raistlin stared at the devastation.
Then at Tass.
Then at the perfectly preserved latrine.
And finally exhaled one word.
“Kender.”
Tass beamed.
“See? Controlled magical detonation.”
The dwarf stared at the burning wall.
Raistlin pinched the bridge of his nose.
And somewhere in the distance,
the gods of magic
very quietly
wept.
What started as a small joke may have accidentally become the beginning of a new Tasselhoff adventure. Apparently, reading spellbooks upside down has consequences.
