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Message: <blockquote data-quote="mamba" data-source="post: 8740944" data-attributes="member: 7034611">I guess I do not consider it a joke on dementia because I knew it was a god playing dumb to hide what he really is.Before they even meet him, Raistlin notices that Takhisis' and Paladine's constellations are gone and says something to the effect that both are now on Krynn, with Paladine trying to stop her. When they then meet Fizban, it is very clear from the description that he only plays befuddled and clumsy to get what he wants from the situation (without anyone else noticing) while in reality being aware of things no one else is and generally in control.He tells them immediately that Huma and the dragonlances were real, recognizes that Raistlin is 'possessed' by Fistandantilus, he knows the elves will attack the prisoner waggons and free them before anyone can know this / anyone else does, and more."Excuse me,” the old man said. “May I?” Fizban sat down beside Raistlin. He laid his hand on the mage’s head and sternly spoke a few words. Caramon, listening closely, heard “Fistandan …” and “not the time …” Certainly it wasn’t a healing prayer, such as Goldmoon had tried, but the big man saw that his brother responded! The response was astonishing, however. Raistlin’s eyes fluttered and opened. He looked up at the old man with a wild expression of terror and grasped Fizban’s wrist in his thin, frail hand. For an instant it seemed Raistlin knew the old man,""“Story—that’s all it is.” Caramon yawned and scratched his chest. “Who knows if it’s real or if the Dragonlance was real or if even Huma was real?” “We know the dragons are real,” Raistlin murmured. “Huma was real,” Fizban said softly. “And so was the Dragonlance.” The old man’s face grew sad.""Fizban sat up, yawned, and glanced around. “Oh, good,” he said mildly, “the elves are here.” “What elves, where?” Tanis sat up. There was a sudden whirring sound like a covey of quail taking flight.""“Stop this nonsense!” said the old magician in a strong, stern voice. Fizban tottered up to the rostrum, calmly pushing aside the sword blades as if they were slender branches of an aspen tree. The elves stared in astonishment, seemingly unable to stop him. Muttering to himself, Fizban came up to the Speaker, who was lying stunned on the floor. The old man helped the elf to his feet. “Now then, you asked for that, you know,” Fizban scolded, brushing the Speaker’s robes as the elf gaped at him. “Who are you?” the Speaker gasped"Not sure how much more clear they could have made it without outright saying so.</blockquote>

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