The Library of PalanthasAn Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.Stories of Ansalon from the view of Bantam.
Bookmark Ansalon MUD's Author !
A little gully dwarf runs by and says 'Wordwrap Off 65 80.'
The gully continues 'Eyes hurt? Turn Color OFF!! (regular story dates)
Astinus says ' Enter the main library here to view only the author list.'
Astinus gently places a large tome on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Bantam' scribed in brilliant green ink.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Boreadi, the Month of Aelmont, 16 19:10:39 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The curious problem of Bantam Feedcooker
The elder of the rural village of Groundbreak, in Hylo, just did not know what
to do about Bantam Feedcooker. Her mother, Henbane, had it hard enough as it was,
what with the girl's father dead or vanished (the story tended to change with some
frequency, but everyone just assumed grief had made her forgetful and left it at
that). The girl had just turned twelve, and she was lagging pitifully behind all
the other kender children in her age group. She had yet to pick a lock, she was
unable to borrow anything from a person's pocket without raising a ruckus (and
consequently rarely did so), she tripped on her own feet, she dropped things and
broke them, and the first time they took her on a goatsucker hunt, her clumsy
crashing through the brush had driven every bird -- goatsucker or otherwise -- into
hiding. Simply put, something was wrong. A gully dwarf could have seen that.
And she looked different from the others, too. She was quite a bit taller than
the other kenderkin, for one thing. Had been since she was a toddler. This in itself
wouldn't have been so noticeable were it not for her hands and feet, which were
big and awkward; nothing like those of her playmates. When she was a toddler,
everyone had assumed she'd grow into them, just as kender children grow into
their ears. But her approaching adolescence was only making the problem worse.
While Bantam wasn't an outcast -- it just wasn't in the nature of kender to shun
anyone, no matter how strange -- people did discuss her in hushed tones, heads
bowed in pity, wondering if she'd wind up with the dreaded affliction of Laz-a-
Bout, doomed never to experience Wanderlust. And kender, particularly kender of
Bantam's age -- a tumultuous one, to be sure -- could be unkind without meaning
to. She was constantly beset by hordes of her curious playmates asking why she
couldn't pick a lock and why her hands were so big. Each of them tried,
good heartedly, to instruct her in the ats of lockpicking, borrowing, hiding and
moving about in the shadows. But her body simply would not cooperate, and such
sessions always ended with Bantam dashing home in tears of shame and frustration,
scattering terrified chickens in her wake as she crossed the front yard. Bantam's
misery broke Henbane's heart, and the pity of her neighbors embarrassed her. She
needed to find someone who could help.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Boreadi, the Month of Aelmont, 16 19:17:52 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The curious problem of Bantam Feedcooker (cont'd)
Thus Bantam found herself seated on a kitchen stool, being scrutinized by Kipper
Quicksnip, the village physician, Daisy Mudpacker, Groundbreak's self-appointed
child-minder and mentor (not to mention the village busybody), and Toehold
Gatecrasher, the elder. She was fidgeting uneasily under their gaze. They
reminded her of some gnomes who had visited when she was just a toddler,
eager to study kender societies and technology. They had made her feel like
something under a magnifying glass, and so did these three adults.
"Bantam?" Daisy said kindly. "Don't be frightened, dear. We're just here to
see if we can figure out what's wrong with you."
"Daisy!" Toehold said sharply. "Look, that wasn't the right thing to say at all!
Look at her face; she's going to cry again! Don't cry, dear! There's not a thing
wrong with you. Well, I don't think there is, anyway. Final word is the doctor's,
of course."
Kipper Quicksnip stepped forward with a small mallet and Bantam shrank back,
eyeing it with some trepidation. "What's that for?" she asked. Fearless or not,
she remembered the last time she had been to see Kipper and she wasn't eager to
repeat such relentless pokings and proddings.
"It's just to test your reflexes," Kipper said. "Don't worry, it shan't hurt you
a bit!" He began tapping her here and there with it, and Bantam watched as her
leg jerked upwards, seemingly of its own accord, to kick Kipper squarely in the
chin. "Well, that seems to work..." he muttered, massaging the tender spot.
She sat for the rest of the afternoon as Kipper performed various tests, Daisy
asked her various useless questions, and Toehold discussed various charities with
her mother. When the three finally filed out of the room, the conclusion remained:
There is something strange about Bantam. But we haven't any idea what it is.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Luindai, the Month of Aelmont, 18 03:30:33 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The strange day of the turtle
And so Bantam took to playing and exploring alone, discovering the beauty of the
woods for herself without worrying about whether she was stealthy or quick. Despite
her lumbering, noisy way of ambling down the paths, she had a certain way with
the creatures of the forest, and she entertained herself by befriending feral cats
and mongrel curs with a pocket full of food scraps, and seeing how close she
could creep to wild animals before they took wing or bolted into the underbrush.
Sometimes she could almost reach out and touch them.
One day, she was lying on her stomach observing a great turtle with a green shell,
brown skin, and bold yellow stripes on the sides of its head, sunning itself on
the big fallen tree in the pond not far from her house. Apparently it had not heard her
coming through the woods, or it would have slid into the muddy water with a great
splash, which was what usually happened. She had never gotten to see one so
close before, and she was admiring its shell, which looked like it could have been
handcrafted and painted by dwarven artisans.
"Oh, Mr. Turtle," Bantam sighed, more or less to herself. "You're big and
clumsy and slow and noisy, but nobody laughs at you. I wish I was a turtle! I'd
make a good one. I wonder if I could find a wizard to turn me into a turtle.
Then I'd be able to swim, too." (Bantam was a notorious sinker.)
The turtle turned its head and looked directly at her.
"Oh, you're going to go away now, are you?" she said glumly. "I didn't think
you'd hear me. Well, go on!"
"But I can hear you, Bantam," said a female voice. "And forgive me, but I don't
think you should become a turtle."
Bantam sat up, staring at the turtle, her heart pounding. "Er -- pardon me, Mr. --
well -- Mrs., I suppose -- turtle, but...did you just speak?"
The turtle nodded its head. "I said that you would not make a good turtle. You
are needed elsewhere." It had the gentle voice of a mother.
"Needed? What...what do you mean?" She looked at the turtle expectantly, but
now it was staring dumbly at her. "Wait, talk again! What do you mean?!" She
lunged for the shore, fully intending to wade out to the talking turtle, but
it scrambled off the log in fear and splashed into the depths, like always.
"Come back!" she shouted into the water. "What do you mean?!"
But all she could see in that shallow murk was her own profoundly puzzled face.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Soldai, the Month of Aelmont, 20 17:05:17 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Henbane's Secret
To everyone's relief, Bantam's adolescence, like that of all kenderkind,
culminated in the onset of Wanderlust. Her treks into the woods outside
Groundbreak grew longer and longer, and she repeatedly failed to appear
to help her mother feed the chickens, collect the shed feathers to make
pillows, and gather and sell the eggs. Henbane began to encourage her
to pack up her pouches and leave.
"But..." Bantam hesitated. "Don't you need help with the chickens?"
"Of course not, darling. That's what neighbors are for."
"But...but..."
"Bantam." Henbane put her hands on her wide hips. Her fleshy arms
remarkably resembled wings. "Is something wrong?"
Bantam glanced anxiously up at her mother. She hadn't told Henbane
about the talking turtle. Or the doe that followed her home, or the
weasel that kept bringing her little trinkets for her puches, or the
nightingale that sang, with words, in Kender. She hadn't told anybody.
Of course, being a kender, she was bursting to tell EVERYBODY, but
the fact remained that animals did not simply talk. And Daisy Mudpacker's
words were echoing in her head: "We're just here to see if we can
figure out what's wrong with you." And she did not much relish the
idea of Kipper Quicksnip poking around inside her head.
But if there was one person a kender maid could trust, it was her mother.
Bantam took a deep breath.
"Ma...a turtle talked to me!"
"A turtle?" Henbane arched her eyebrows in polite surprise.
"And a deer, and a bird, and lots of things, and oh, Ma, I'm worried
people will think I'm crazy!"
"Bantam, I don't think you're crazy, dear."
But Bantam was not listening. "And maybe I AM crazy, and Doctor Quicksnip
is going to want to cut my head open, and there I'll be looking at my own
brain sitting on a plate or something!"
"Bantam..."
"And I'll never be able to go out and have any adventures because how can
you have adventures without a brain, and I'll end up like crazy Aunt
Skullfeathers sitting in a rocking chair on the porch muttering for the rest
of my life!"
"Bantam."
"And I can't take two steps without tripping over my feet anyway, and I
can't go adventuring like that, and everyone will laugh at me because I won't
have any brain, and --"
"BANTAM!" crowed Henbane sharply. Bantam immediately quieted down and
looked up at her mother with wide, shining eyes. "Now listen to me, young chick,
have you misplaced your entire HEAD? You may be a little different, but you're a
kender through and through, and you need to stop this nonsense, grab hold of
yourself by the topknot and pull yourself down to earth, or so help me, I will
do it for you!"
"Yes, Ma. I'm sorry." Bantam sniffled. "I just wish you could tell me why
I'm like this!"
Henbane sighed. "I don't know much, Bantam, and I'm not entirely sure, but...
I would guess it's got something to do with your father..."
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Boreadi, the Month of Aelmont, 23 17:30:18 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Henbane's Secret (cont'd)
"What does Papa have to do with this?" Bantam demanded. "You said
he died."
"He did die, at least I think he died," Henbane said. "I don't really
know what happened." A faraway look drifted into Henbane's eyes.
"Your father was a remarkable kender. Well, he was part kender,
anyway."
"PART kender?!" Bantam glowered at her mother, the picture of
adolescent rage. "PART kender?! You said I was kender through and
through!"
"Oh, but my dear, you are! Your mother is a kender and all your
friends are kender and you live among kender and you are short and
have pointed ears. You're a kender."
"I can't be a kender if my papa wasn't a kender!"
"But he was! Practically" Henbane stroked Bantam's topknot.
"You know, he was a lot like you. Tall, almost five feet tall...big
hands...clumsy...couldn't pick a lock to save his life. But a great,
big brain in his head! He was a half kender. Which made him also
a half human. He was a little weird, of course, but he'd always
lived with kender -- it was his father that was a human, and he ran
off the way they do, so he was raised by his mother. So even if he
looked a little different, he was still a kender. And anyway, that
doesn't make you more than a fourth human. Or is it an eighth?
I'm terrible with numbers. No, a fourth. A quarter human. Why,
that's practically nothing."
Bantam shot her most practiced look of bile at her mother. "Why
didn't you tell me? Why did you keep it a secret and leave me to
think I was just a kender that didn't get made right all these years?"
Henbane squeezed her daughter tightly. "Oh, my little chick, I
just didn't want you to feel any more different than you already did,
that's all!"
"Hmm. Well. That's fair, I suppose." Kender did not hold grudges.
She relaxed a little and smiled at her mother. "So what happened to
Papa?"
"Oh...well...you see..." Henbane was beginning to sniffle, now.
"He was a...he was a m-magic user. And right after I had you, he
got called away to take that Test...you know, in that tower that
they have. And he...he n-never m-made it back. I never even saw
his body."
"Oh, Ma." Bantam wiped away the tears on her mother's face with
her sleeve. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"Oh, it's all right." She pulled a huge, gaudy handkerchief with
a floral print out of one of the many pockets in her apron and blew
her nose noisily on it. "It was so many years ago. But Bantam, if
you feel different, if strange things happen to you...I'd blame it
on him."
"Oh..." Bantam felt faint. This was so much for her to understand
all at once. "Magic! Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"Well, because I don't know a thing about it! Your father was very
secretive...but, Bantam, you've got to go out and find out all about
it for me. And come back and tell me everything! Papa never got
the chance to..."
Bantam hugged her mother. "I will, Ma!"
"But Bantam, whatever you do, do not go and take any wicked Tests!
I don't want to lose both of you. I know it would be a great adventure,
but...your father was much too young to have it. Please, Bantam...
take care!"
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Luindai, the Month of Aelmont, 25 02:40:27 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject And Another One...
Bantam skipped down the road, her pouches bouncing against her waist
and her hoopak swinging at her side. The pouches were full of parting
gifts from her friends. Since they did not understand her non-
borrowing nature, they had simply given her anything she admired, or
anything they thought she'd like. It was unfitting, they reasoned, for
a kender maid to go into the world with nothing to her name.
She hadn't any idea where she was going, but the fresh air whispering
through her chestnut brown hair felt delicious, and she felt in her
heart that the answer was over the next hill or hiding in a nearby
thicket, if she just looked for it.
This business about her father being a magic user struck her very queer
indeed. She had never done anything magical. Oh, certainly, she'd had
some strange things happen to her, but she'd never made fire dance on her
fingers or produced wine from her sleeve or any of those things she'd
seen magicians do. How could she possibly be a wizard?
She was mulling these very questions over and over in her mind when a
small serpent slithered out in the road in front of her.
"Hello," she said out of habit.
"Hello," the serpent replied affably.
Bantam frowned. "So you're one of them, are you! Well, I always enjoy
hearing from you, although I don't understand you one bit. Who are you?!"
The serpent's tongue darted from its mouth. "I'm only a snake,
Bantam, it said. Its voice was the same gentle female voice that had
issued from the turtle and the lark. "You might as well ask Lockpick in the
puppet show who HE is. You're asking the wrong question."
"Well, then, you smart-mouthed bit of clothesline," Bantam said hotly, "who
is BEHIND you?"
"Dirt. The earth."
"Precisely. The earth, which feeds us and houses us all. I am from the
earth, just as you are, and just as all creatures come from the earth.
The earth is as our mother and guides us, and cares for us. I am
trying to guide you, Bantam. There are creatures who need you, but until
you begin to use the brain your mother gave you, I cannot help you. Ask
for me when you are ready."
And with that, the serpent slithered off into a patch of shrubs.
"Wait!" Bantam cried, dashing to the thicket and dropping to her hands
and knees to peer into it. "Come back! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to
offend you, Lady Snake! I just don't understand!"
But the serpent was nowhere to be found.
Bantam shook her head. "I really AM losing my mind..."
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Nuindai, the Month of Aelmont, 26 05:02:03 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Oops...
It had been a good and productive day for the cleric's young
apprentice until the kender entered his potion shop. He
immediately stiffened when she walked in, unconsciously
laying his hand on the till. She made a beeline for a case
of potions of healing, and she grabbed at them, picking them
up, turning them over and peering analytically at them,
with no regard for their value or their fragility. That was
what made him do something he regretted for years: he yelled
at the kender.
"Hey! Put that down!"
The surprised kender wheeled round to find out who was
shouting at her, but she paid no heed to the long, forked
staff strapped to her traveling pack, and it swung around behind her
and knocked an entire row of glass flasks off the shelf. They
crashed to the floor, and shattered, and their contents ran
together. A foul-smelling cloud began to rise from the floor
as the components of each potion reacted with those of the
others, and the kender stared at it, the expression on her
face wavering between guilty embarrassment and intrigued
curiosity.
"Oh, dear! Look at that! I'm awfully sorry! Boy, have you
seen anything do that before? Look at the color of that vapor!
It's quite a pretty purple, don't you think?"
"What have you done!?" bellowed the apprentice, hopping up
and grabbing a rag. "Oh, by the true gods! Get out of the way!"
He gave the kender a strong shove...and immediately regretted it.
She stumbled backwards, and he watched for a long, horrified
second as she waved her arms like an absurd flightless bird,
trying to keep her balance. But instead, she toppled with a
crash into a rack of drying herbs, scattering them everywhere.
"YOU STUPID LITTLE OAF!" he shrieked. He started to run for the
herbs, remembered the spilled potions, and turned back to
the toxic puddle. He began mopping the liquid up, but the
rag quickly became saturated. "Damn it, you're going to
get me in so much trouble!" He threw the rag into the pool
and ran back to the counter, searching for supplies.
Meanwhile, the kender had picked herself up and brushed the
dried crumbles of herbs off her tunic. "You shouldn't have
pushed me like that," she said reproachfully.
The apprentice shoved a towel into her hands. "Oh, I will do
something MUCH worse than push you," he growled, "if you don't
step over there and clean up every drop of that spilled
potion and every fragment of that glass."
"Of course I will!" she said cheerfully. She unstrapped her staff
and leaned it against the counter with great care, eyeing it for
several seconds to make certain it was not about to fall. Then
she accepted the towel from the enraged apprentice and began her
task. The apprentice watched her, red faced, for a moment before
setting to work sorting out the spilled herbs.
"Oh, Master Ashaf is going to flay me alive for this," he
groaned as he worked. "Do you even know what you've done? I'm
sunk. I'm dead meat. Unless you can pay for all this,
and I'm guessing you can't. You idiot kender would steal
a bit of colored paper before you'd take a second look at a
gold coin."
"We wouldn't steal at all," she said, hurt, "but...well...no,
I don't have enough money. I don't think. Is this enough?"
A strangled cry escaped the apprentice as he saw the handful of
copper in the kender's pouch. "Oh, Mishakal," he prayed,
lifting his eyes towards the heavens. "What have I done to deserve this?"
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Boreadi, the Month of Aelmont, 30 16:56:35 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Crime and punishment
Bantam was feeling like she was under the gnomish magnifying
glass once again. She was sitting on a hard stool in the
Master's cell, being glared at (one of the glarers being the
Master, the other the poor nervous fellow who was running
the shop when she entered). The former was giving her a
particularly stern look. She shrank on her seat.
"Do you have any idea how much damage you've done?" the
Master asked, gentler than he could have, at least.
"No, sir," Bantam said in a very small voice.
"You destroyed 132 silver coins worth of goods. Coins which
would have gone towards mending the roof of our little temple.
Know how much 132 silver coins is?"
"No, sir."
He sighed and shook his head. "I suppose we could take her
into town and put her in jail," he commented to his
apprentice.
Bantam gasped. "No, sir! I've heard about those places and
they sound terribly boring! Please, sir! I'll do anything to
make amends! Just don't put me in a jail! I mean, of course,
I've never been to a jail, and I'm curious about what they
look like, but my friend Tavin Twogizzards said he got put in
jail and there wasn't anything in the room but a silly old
chamber pot and there was nothing to look at and --"
"Please shut up!" the apprentice barked.
"You know, Evan, as a follower of the merciful Mishakal, I
can't see my way clear to locking this creature up," said
Master Ashaf thoughtfully. "It WAS an accident, after all, and
they say confining a kender is the worst torture you can inflict
on it. And torture is wrong, whether we see it as torture
or not."
"But she has to repay you somehow!" cried the apprentice
named Evan.
Ashaf peered over his spectacles at Bantam. His overgrown
white eyebrows fascinated her, and she wondered what it
would look like if they could be trimmed into shapes, like
topiary. "Small one," he said, "do you think you could make
up what you lost me by working here?"
"What are you thinking?!" the apprentice fussed. "They're
a race of shiftless children!"
"Now, now, Evan, that's simply not true. How could they
possibly have villages, let alone great cities, if that
were so?" He smiled at Bantam in a grandfatherly manner.
Evan looked as though he were doubting the greatness of
any kender city.
"I'd like that very much," Bantam said with a low, grateful
voice. "Because I may be a magic user myself, you know!
And I want to learn everything I can about potions and herbs and
everything else, because maybe I'll be able to use it one day!"
Master Ashaf chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, really!
Well, isn't that nice."
"And I'm a gully dwarf," muttered Evan.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Nuindai, the Month of Rannmont, 2 15:30:36 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject A Sympathetic Ear
Master Ashaf took the kender under his wing over the following months,
and even his skeptical apprentice Evan grew fond of her. The Master
thought of Bantam as a sort of adopted grandchild, and he was quick to
find her work which suited her skills. Noting that the kender grew bored
and fidgety when assigned mundane tasks such as labeling and cleaning jars,
and fearing that her clumsiness would put her more deeply in debt than
she already was if she was left indoors, he sent her to the woods to scour
the ground for the ingredients he needed. She always returned with a
bountiful array of plants, as her small frame allowed her access to places in
the woods Evan and Ashaf could not reach, and her sharp eyesight and her
natural curiosity did not hinder her searches either. She was a quick and
ready student, for a kender, and Ashaf taught her all that he knew of
herblore. Her familiarity with her beloved woods made it easy for her to
keep track of all the plants he taught her, and she enjoyed rattling off
all their names in Kender for the edification of the amused cleric. He even
allowed her to accompany him and Evan to the village and the temple to
witness acts of divine healing. Those upon whom Ashaf bestowed his
miraculous services were generally unhappy to see a kender at his side, but
she always watched the process with wide eyes and silent mouth, waiting
until afterwards to flood him with questions about it.
One day, Evan had come to the garden in the back of the little shop to
congratulate Bantam for going a week without breaking anything. He was
surprised to see her sitting on a log with a little brown bird perched on
one of her long fingers.
"Why, Bantam," he exclaimed, "that's marvelous! How did you get it to come
to you?"
The kender shrugged. "Animals like me, I guess," she said. But a strange
look had come across her face.
"Why do you sound so glum? Seems to me you'd be happy. You know more
about plants than I ever will. Beginning to think YOU'RE Ashaf's favorite.
He doesn't like city people like me. And you've got little animal friends.
Why do you look so funny? All that makes up for being a complete oaf, if
you ask me."
Bantam did not seem to notice the jab. "Evan, can I tell you a secret?"
The young man plopped unceremoniously onto the log beside her, making the
little bird start and flutter to a tree overhead. "Of course you can, shorty,"
he said. "Tell me all."
Bantam took a deep breath. "Sometimes animals talk to me, and I told my
mom and I said I'm crazy but she said I'm not crazy because Papa was a magic
user but I can't do any magic but a snake said 'ask for me when you are ready'
and I don't know what it meant but it must have meant SOMETHING and do
you think it's possible that well Someone is trying to tell me Something?
A Someone with a capital S, if you take my meaning?"
Evan sorted this jumble of words out in his head for a moment, then he
spoke. "Animals talk to you, hmm?"
"Y-yes. I know you won't believe me, but..."
"Well, Bantam, eight moons ago when you first came here, I wouldn't have.
But given the way you've taken to herblore like a duck to water, the way
animals seem to flock to you, and now this whole 'my dad was a magic user'
motif - I didn't know you people could use magic, by the way - well, I'm
willing to admit that you are no ordinary kender."
Bantam sat in uncharacteristic silence for a moment. Then, in a small
voice, she asked, "Evan, how do people become healers like you and
Master Ashaf?"
"Well, sometimes, you choose the god...and sometimes the gods choose you."
"How do you know they chose you?"
"Well, if you experience some sort of miracle, like, say..." Evan arched
an eyebrow at Bantam and gave her a strange smile. "Like seeing talking
animals, perhaps."
"Oh!"
(tbc)
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Gilaedai, the Month of Rannmont, 7 17:36:34 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Meditation, & a Strange Dream
(cont'd)
"I think you should sit out here and meditate for a while, and see what comes
to you," Evan said, getting to his feet. "And then, you should have a talk
with the Master."
After Evan left Bantam, the bird alighted again on her shoulder and
began grooming its feathers. She squeezed her eyes shut. Ashaf and
Evan had tried to teach her to meditate, but it always devolved into
daydreaming. She drew a few deep breaths and blew them out slowly. It
occurred to her that the two clerics sometimes used mantras when they
meditated, and so she began to repeat a suitable one to herself in Kender:
"Who are you? Who are you?" She slid from the log to the ground, resting
her back against the bark. Soon, she felt her thoughts begin to drift, as
always, and she surrendered herself to the daydreams.
She imagined that she was at the edge of a deep forest. She dearly wanted
to enter, but something was stopping her from doing so. The closer she got
to the forest edge, the heavier her legs seemed to become, and the less they
responded to her commands. She was walking through water, then molasses,
then mud, until she was finally unable to move at all.
She looked up at the trees imploringly. The wind whispered through the
branches, the leaves shook, and the crowns swayed. And suddenly, she was
able to understand them. They did not speak Kender or Common. They did
not speak with words at all. Every sound the evening breezes made as they
passed through the boughs meant something. Every shade of green which
flashed past her eyes as the leaves quivered signified an idea, a feeling, a
memory. Bantam looked about in a panic, trying to hear all that was said
at once. The graceful finger of cloud which swirled in a certain crescent
shape in the stormy sky. The pattern etched by a downy dandelion seed as it
danced over the grass. The particular way a stag had left the
impression of his antlers in a tree trunk. All these pictures and sounds
converged in her mind as a beautiful whole, and she understood, understood
what had been happening to her all her life felt the being who had been
trying to reach her.
"I know you now," she whispered. "Chislev. I'm ready."
And at once her legs were released, the trees seemed to beckon her, her
heart was filled with a joy she'd never felt before, and her veins felt as
if they were pulsing with Uncle Drinkwater's famous gooseberry cider.
She wanted nothing more than to run into the forest as fast as her legs could
carry her, and she did just that...for a minute, until she tripped over
a tree root and fell hard on her face. A blinding pain in her nose awoke her.
She looked up. Night had fallen. She had wandered a good hundred feet
into the wood near the garden. The strange dream-forest had gone
was quite normal, and she couldn't understand the trees anymore. The fall,
however, had been quite real, and her body ached. The bird had gone, but it
must have followed her in her dream-walk, for something on the ground in
front of Bantam's nose caught her eye: a single tail feather
She picked it up. It was brown, with bands of yellow, and it
shone metallic green when she turned it a certain way and let it catch
Solinari's light.
"Chislev!" she cried. "I understand everything now! Oh, I don't know
why you picked me, but I'll do my best to serve you. I'll devote my Wanderlust
to you! And beyond! If if that is what you want, that is."
Clutching the feather, she skipped back to Master Ashaf's shop, singing at
the top of her lungs, and blissfully unaware of the large quantity of blood
that was now streaming down her face: the rock that had broken her fall had
also broken her nose.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Luindai, the Month of Rannmont, 15 16:59:18 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Goodbyes.
"There," the old healer said, without much satisfaction, as he managed to stop
the flow of blood from the kender's nose. "It won't ever look perfect, of
course...you broke it very badly, and the Gods don't seem as inclined to mend
aesthetic injuries, I'm afraid."
Evan, meanwhile, was dabbing away the blood with a damp cloth. "You'll do
yourself in before anyone else will, at this rate," he muttered.
But Bantam wasn't listening. "Oh, Master Ashaf, you wouldn't believe what's
just happened to me!"
"Yes, Evan told me all about it," he said to the kender, who was quivering
like a puppy in her excitement. "And I must say I'm not terribly surprised."
"And did he tell you about this feather? It's got Chislev's colors - and
the bird followed me - and I I could understand the forest, and, oh, it was
amazing, Master Ashaf! I could understand every word - well, not exactly,
because they didn't speak with words, but I still understood! And when I
understood, then I COULD go into the forest. And did I tell you about the
clouds -"
"Yes, yes, yes," Ashaf quickly interrupted, trying to stave off another
torrent of chatter. "You did. Bantam, I believe that you have had a brush
with the divine. And you are most fortunate! But...I am afraid that this
also means that you may not work for me anymore."
The kender's face transmuted from one of purest joy to brokenhearted disbelief
in a millisecond. "But Master Ashaf..."
"You have been a wonderful helper," he said hastily, "and you've more than paid
for all the goods you smashed the day you walked into my shop. And the ones
you destroyed in the course of your career here. And I hate to lose you. But
you cannot further your training here at our little temple to Mishakal. You
must go to the temple of Chislev in Solace and talk to the priests there. They
can help you on your journey."
"Oh Master Ashaf...you've been such a good friend..." She sniffled once.
Twice. Evan and his master glanced at one another, bracing themselves for the
inevitable flood. But when it came, they embraced her as if she were their kin.
The next morning, after a few hiccoughing aftershocks of sorrow and three
soiled handkerchiefs, Bantam left Evan and Ashaf with a little food in her pack
and a letter of introduction from the Master, who had had the foresight to
imagine that the denizens of Chislev's temple might not exactly welcome a
kender with open arms. She had a long road ahead of her, but she had a good
map and a small assortment of medicinal herbs and potions to help keep her
safe. She had borrowed all of these things from her dear Master. He wasn't
using them, after all, and she was sure he'd understand that she needed them
much more than he did.
And she was right.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Boreadi, the Month of Rannmont, 20 16:25:24 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The tale of the Caergoth cat
Bantam was walking down an old road with her nose in a map, trying to figure
out the best path to Solace, when she noticed that she was a mere stone's
throw away from Caergoth. There was a rumor back in Hylo that the great
Uncle Trapspringer had made that city his final resting place, and her
Aunt Featherbee had recommended it as a diverting city with many beautiful
things to see. She decided to make a pilgrimage to the bustling port, even
though it was a bit of a detour.
As she entered the town, she elbowed her way awkwardly through crowds of
sailors and marketgoers, apologizing profusely as the hoopak strapped to her
back struck people in the chin. Although the place positively swam with
intriguing sights and smells and sounds, Bantam found herself growing hot and
uncomfortable surrounded by so many people, buildings, carts and horses, and
metal-clad guards. She had grown up in tiny Groundbreak and spent a good part
of the past year at Master Ashaf's idyllic little temple in the country. She
was unused to the racket of a major city like Caergoth, and quickly became
overwhelmed in the town center. And so she was quite relieved when she managed
to escape down a quiet alleyway, where she could observe things at a more
relaxed pace.
But as she walked down the dirty street, admiring the graffiti on the walls and
peering curiously at the ragged-looking humans sleeping slumped against the
buildings, she became aware of a strange sound echoing through the alley. It
sounded like someone screaming in fear and rage, and it came intermittently,
every few moments.
"What in the world is that dreadful noise?" she wondered aloud, and cupped a
hand to her ear, trying to figure out where it was coming from. As she came
closer to the source, she began to trot. When she neared the scene of the
commotion, two figures came into view -- two big human children, much younger
than Bantam but almost her size. And there was something else -- a large brown
sack, constantly changing shape as something tossed violently about inside it.
And in a moment, she put the sight and the terrible sounds together: the
children had two stray cats in the bag, and they were fighting to the death.
And the humans were laughing at it! One of them gave the bag a savage kick,
which set off a new wave of horrible shrieks and thrashings. She had never
witnessed anything so mean in her life.
"HEY!" she shouted, forgetting everything else around her as she stomped toward
the humans. "What do you think you're doing, you pair of ugly brutes?!"
Distracted from their entertainment, they glanced up, and the bigger one of
the two laughed derisively at the sight of the kender. "What's it to you, you
little rat?" he said.
Bantam put her hands on her hips, mimicking her mother the time she was caught
trying to juggle the eggs she was supposed to be bringing home from the chicken
coop. "First of all, I'm taller than you," she said, slowly reaching for her
hoopak. "Second of all, that's mean! How dare you treat a couple of helpless
creatures that way? What's so entertaining to you little thugs about seeing an
poor dumb animal suffer like that?"
The smaller child looked as if he were thinking of obeying his elder, though
she was a kender. But his thicker companion simply spat on the ground. "I
don't listen to kender! My mom says humans are better. She says you're
thieves and there ain't nothing worse than a thief."
Assuming a threatening stance, Bantam held her hoopak firmly and shrieked,
"Your mother must think taller is better, 'cause I can see she bedded an ogre
to get something like you!"
The child's face wrinkled into a scowl much too stormy for his years. "Don't
you talk about my mom!"
Seeing that she had struck a nerve, Bantam stepped back and continued. "Or
maybe it was a walrus-man. You from the south? You should file those tusks
down a bit if you want to pass as a pure human!"
(cont'd)
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Boreadi, the Month of Rannmont, 20 16:40:53 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The tale of the Caergoth cat (2)
(cont'd)
"I AM a pure human!" he yelled, and lunged for Bantam, but she ran. She knew
she wasn't quite quick enough to escape him, so she began tipping barrels and
upsetting piles of junk in her wake, and she used her hoopak as a third leg,
trying her best not to stumble and trip.
"I guess it could have been a minotaur," she shrieked. "That would explain the
cow smell!"
"I'll wear your stupid hair for a trophy when I catch you!" the boy yelled.
"It'll be an improvement over your own!" Bantam was emerging from the alleyway
into the crowded downtown. She glanced about, trying to think of a way she
could lose the thug. She looked over her shoulder for a moment to see how far
he was behind her, and -- THUNK! -- ran straight into the trunk-like chest
of a six-foot-tall, burly sailor with a six-day beard and a deep scar across
his cheek.
An idea was born.
She beamed up at the sailor. "I am SO GLAD I found you," she said
quickly. "You see that young punk over there? I overheard him telling
his ugly friends how he was going to sneak onto your ship at nightfall.
They have some sort of contest on -- who can steal the most gold from
the most boats, or something along those lines. Anyway, the lad is
clearly on the wrong path and you ought to have a talk with him. Be
gentle, though. I have to go warn the other sailors. Bye!"
Hoping that the sailor would detain the boy long enough for her to escape, she
dashed off into the crowd, headed for the alley she had just come from.
Smiling with satisfaction as she heard the boy's bellows of protest behind
her, she skipped into the alley and headed for the sack.
She was surprised to see that it had already been opened, and that the small
boy was sitting on the ground next to it. As she got closer, she could see
that the child was actually crying. She approached slowly and put a hand on
his shoulder. He started and looked up.
"Oh, ma'am," he said, his face red and tear-streaked. "I'm sorry! Bracken,
he's my friend, but not my friend, really -- it was his idea, and I didn't want
to! He made me do it!" The child's shoulders started to shake.
"There, there," Bantam said softly, sitting down next to him. "It's all right.
But where are the cats?"
"One ran off," said the child, his voice shaking. "B-but the other...it's..."
He pointed at the sack on the ground.
Bantam slowly pulled the burlap back and uncovered the other cat. It was a
skinny black tom with wide, frightened eyes. It was breathing shallowly, but
there was a trickle of blood coming out of its mouth, and its fur was matted
with blood in various places where it had been wounded. Its right ear was
torn and gory.
After she looked into the huge round eyes of the cat, she was forced to squeeze
her own eyes shut. For just a moment, she could feel all of the animal's pain
and terror, a terror so pure and instinctual, one that she rarely felt as a
kender. The cat's fear wrapped about her heart like a constrictor snake, and
it immobilized her, just for a moment. The sound of the small boy whimpering
at her side brought her back to reality.
"It's dying, it's dying," he sobbed. "I killed it!"
"No you didn't! Stop talking nonsense!" Bantam said. "If anyone killed it,
it was that brute who gave it a kick in the head. Anyway, it's still
breathing. I might be able to help it..." She faltered as she said this,
uncertain that she was telling the truth.
But the boy looked up, his eyes full of hope. "Really?" he whispered. In
spite of her size, he still recognized her as a Grownup, one of that mystic
order of persons who somehow knew how to work miracles in an emergency. Bantam
hoped the boy would get to see a REAL miracle.
(cont'd)
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Boreadi, the Month of Rannmont, 20 16:41:49 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The tale of the Caergoth cat (3)
She knelt next to the body of the cat and gently laid her hands on it. It
began to emit a low growl, but she spoke softly to it and stroked its head
gently, and it seemed to relax. Then she shut her eyes and tried to
concentrate, as she had seen Ashaf and Evan do. She touched the feather she
had woven into her hair, just for luck.
"Chislev," she prayed. "This is Bantam. Er, Bantam Feedcooker. You remember,
we met in the woods by Groundbreak. And then again in Master Ashaf's garden.
You made me break my nose, you know! He said it won't ever look the same.
But -- oh -- yes -- well, my nose, that's not the single most important thing
right now. The single most important thing is that one of your creatures is
dying, Wild One, and for a really stupid reason, and -- he's so scared, I -- I
somehow felt it, and it's the saddest thing I've ever felt! I drove away the
person that was doing this to him, but he's dying anyway, and I need your help.
Please, Chislev, please help me to heal this beast!"
Even as she spoke, she felt that strange feeling she had felt in the dream --
the creeping, tingling, goosebery cider sensation in her veins, and her hands
began to glow with a green light. Before her eyes, the cat's torn ear
stopped bleeding, his wounds closed, and he began to breathe normally. Slowly,
he got to his feet, stretched, and began cleaning himself as if nothing had
happened.
The boy, who had watched the whole thing in stunned silence, turned to voice
his amazement to the cat's rescuer. But the kender was lying flat on her back,
her eyes shut, her mouth hanging open. The divine energy that had flowed
through her in those brief moments had made her faint dead away.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Luindai, the Month of Rannmont, 22 16:43:26 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject New friends, and a new name.
The next thing Bantam was aware of was an absolutely revolting stench, as if
all of the fish in the sea had simultaneously gone bad. She jerked upright,
coughing and clapping a hand to her nose, and glancing around to see if she'd
been captured by gully dwarves. But what she saw was another kender. He was
smiling, and holding a rusted tin bucket.
"Sorry," he said. "Chum." He held up the bucket as if that explained
everything. "For shark fishing. I didn't have any smelling salts. Are you
okay?"
"Yes," she said. "I think so..."
"My name's Karac!" He thrust out his hand.
Bantam inspected the hand for fish guts, then took it and shook it. "I'm
Bantam," she said. "Nice to meet another kender! It's been a long time!"
"I found you in an alley!" Karac said happily. "A little human boy was
trying to drag you home. I helped him take you in here. He said you brought
a cat back from the dead! Practically, anyway. Are you a healer?"
"I guess so!" Bantam said. "But not a very good one, if I'm going to faint
every time I do it! I feel like I've been trampled by a woolly mammoth."
"Really? I always wondered what it felt like. To get trampled by a woolly
mammoth, I mean, not to be a healer. I guess I could if I wanted to, since
we have some woolly mammoths here, but I've never gotten around to it. Here,
take this." Karac offered her a small cup. Bantam sniffed it -- rum. She
sipped gratefully. "I'm a fisherman," he continued. "I'm the greatest
fisherman in Palanthas! Well, I'm not in Palanthas, actually, but I usually
am. I was just bringing the pick of my catch back here for the cook. We'll
all have fish tonight!"
Bantam looked around, wondering who "we" were. Indeed, she noticed several
topknotted heads peeking around corners, looking curiously at her. She was
in a sunny old house, resting on a comfortable sofa. The walls were
completely covered with colorful paintings, and everywhere she could see
little niches overflowing with trinkets. Over her head, the ceiling was
riddled with irretrievable daggers, knives, darts and letter openers. The
floor was covered with soft cushions, some of which were occupied by sleeping
kender. It was all so beautiful that her heart skipped a beat.
"Where AM I?" she asked.
"Uncle Trapspringer's house, of course!" Karac beamed. "A haven for all
kender of all shapes and sizes! Didn't you know this was here? Well, now
you know."
"Uncle Trapsringer?!" Bantam sat up rigid. "Is he here?"
"Nnno, not right now, I don't think," Karac said. "But he's here in spirit,
of course. He protects us all. And lets us stay in his house. He's a very
nice Uncle. You should stay here for a while!"
And so she did. She explored every inch of the marvelous house, found
every hidden room, locked herself in the root cellar by accident, met dozens
of new friends, ate glorious meals and played with the animals in the
stables. But soon she realized that she was in danger of forgetting her goal
-- the temple in Solace. And so, one morning, she sadly bid all the other
kender goodbye, promising she'd return.
"Thanks for everything," she told Karac, "but I have to get to
Solace."
"Of course!" Karac said. "I'm sure we'll see you here again, but Wanderlust
is Wanderlust, Bantam. Say...I don't know your last name!"
"It's --" Bantam paused. Traditionally, Wanderlust was the time a kender
could "make a name for himself" -- quite literally. Her mother had been
Henbane Bramblehead before her culinary skills had led to her being dubbed
"Feedcooker". Bantam had had many remarkable things happen to her in her
short life, but none quite so remarkable as the incident of the cats. And so
she decided: "It's Bantam Catsbetter, now," she said. And then elaborated:
"Bantam Catsbetter, Friend of the Small!"
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Shinarai, the Month of Rannmont, 26 01:51:38 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Arrival to Solace
And so Bantam traveled onward. Because she still found it impossible to borrow
anything without the original owner noticing and making a great fuss about it,
she foraged for food in the woods and did odd jobs here and there for bread,
beer, and other essentials. Between the work and all of the detours and
distractions to which a kender is slave, it took Bantam months to reach Solace.
But finally, after collecting a new pouch worth of trinkets and a book's worth
of stories, she was strolling among the fabled vallenwoods beneath dappled
shade and sunlight. Finally she was about to enter the breathtaking city of
Solace.
After stopping at the Inn of the Last Home for a restorative plate of spicy
potatoes and an opportunity to tell of her travels to anyone polite enough to
listen, she found her way to the temple of Chislev and entered.
It was a humbly beautiful place constructed inside of a great hollow tree
and swathed with vines and flowers. She felt immediately secure as she
entered, and set about looking for a temple priest she could talk to.
"Hello!" she called. "Hello! Is anyone here?" The temple's interior did not
seem cold and stony as others she had visited. Life surrounded her. Plants
grew from great urns next to wide, sunny windows, and climbed uncontrolled
about the walls. Images of animals were carved into every surface. In the
center of the room there was a large wood statue of a unicorn. Bantam paused
to take in its breathtaking beauty.
Her reverie was interrupted by a hand on her shoulder. She turned around. A
female elf, a Wilder Elf by the looks of her, was giving Bantam a disapproving
look. She was wearing robes of green, brown and yellow, and a feather-shaped
holy symbol was hung around her neck.
"Oh, hello!" Bantam said. "Are you a priestess?"
"Yes, little one," the elf said. "I suppose you are aware, then, that you are
in a temple?"
"Oh, yes, of course I know! This is the Temple of Chislev!"
"Indeed. Most come to the temple to seek peace and balance. Plainly, you have
not, since you entered shouting at the top of your lungs. Bran, I ask why you
have come here, and discourage you from disrupting the peace any further?"
"My name's Bantam Catsbetter," she said, sticking out her hand, which the
priestess declined to take. "I want to be a healer. I came for a teacher."
(cont'd)
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Shinarai, the Month of Rannmont, 26 01:54:01 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Arrival to Solace (2)
"Oh, really?" The elf arced a delicate eyebrow. "Well, Bantam Catsbetter, I
am afraid you have come to the wrong place. Chislev does not choose just
anyone to heal in her name, and I highly doubt that one of your kind --"
"WAIT! Master Ashaf -- my friend, he's a cleric of Mishakal -- he said this
might happen so he wrote me a letter to give you. Hang on, it's in my pack
somewhere. I'll just find it." The priestess watched, stunned into inaction,
as the kender emptied first her pack, then one pouch, then another, onto the
temple floor. Beads, figurines, dried flowers, partially-eaten cookies, bones,
feathers and shiny rocks spilled everywhere. Finally she pulled out a
crumpled, but still sealed, letter from the wreckage, and handed it to the
priestess.
As Bantam gathered her worldly possessions from the floor, the priestess
opened the note and began to read. Her eyes drifted back and forth from the
page to the absurd creature in front of her as she read accounts of Bantam's
great knowledge and skill in Ashaf's neat italic handwriting. The kender
couldn't have written this, she thought. And so either someone is playing a
terribly unfunny joke on me...or it's true. She read:
...Please keep in mind the fact that Bantam, while skilled and goodhearted, is
quite clumsy, and should be supervised around fragile artifacts. She is,
however, free of the more unfortunate characteristics of her kin, such as the
affinities for pickpocketing and lockpicking which are synonymous with her
race. You will eventually tolerate, and then enjoy, her presence in your
temple. Please instruct her, as I believe she has a good deal of potential.
Yours in Mishakal's healing hands (and in Chislev's motherly arms),
Ashaf Kefalis, High Cleric of Rening.
The priestess looked up as she finished the letter. Bantam was holding out a
yellow, green and brown feather.
"I found this," she said, "after I had the dream. He talks about the dream in
there, doesn't he? I think Chislev might have left this as a sign. Do you
think so? I mean, I don't know much about the gods and it could just be a
coincidence, but maybe --"
"Enough, little one," the elf sighed. "I believe you, and it looks as if I
have no choice but to take you on as an acolyte."
"Really?! Oh, that's fine, just fine! Gosh, thank you! I can't wait to learn
everything that there is to know!"
"THAT would be impossible," said the priestess. "Chislev's domain encompasses
all Krynn. You cannot aspire to know all of it, even if you are the cleverest
kender who ever lived."
"Oh," the kender said, crestfallen. "Well, then, how do I know where to start?
I mean, I suppose one starts with the most important things and moves down, but
how does one know what's important? I guess, for that matter, perhaps it
makes better sense to start out with the least important things and work one's
way up. What did YOU learn first? Personally, I want to know how to heal --"
"QUIET!" snapped the elf. "Bantam, if you are to learn anything, first you
must learn patience and restraint. Follow me and I will show you around the
temple. You must remain silent until I say you may speak. THAT is your first
test. Come along."
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Boreadi, the Month of Mishamont, 13 15:35:38 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Bantam's training
The elven priestess, whose name was Kalthana, was rigorous in her training of
Bantam. She frequently subjected the kender to "silence tests," making her
bottle up all her commentary and questions, sometimes for three or for hours at
a time. Bantam fidgeted and squirmed so much that Kalthana often feared she
would combust, but somehow, the kender managed to keep her mouth shut --
usually. Kalthana also took to placing Bantam in a room with a variety of
wondrous objects -- feathers, animal skulls, fossils polished to a gleam,
carved holy symbols -- and challenging her to sit still and look at them
without laying a hand on any of them. The priestess often feared that what she
was doing to the poor creature amounted to torture, but it was the only way
Bantam could begin to cultivate the kind of patience required of one who meant
to spend a lifetime serving a god. When Bantam WAS permitted to speak freely,
Kalthana found her to be a curious and eager pupil, always searching for
answers -- and then more questions.
"Mistress Kalthana," Bantam asked one day as they were strolling together
below Solace in the shade of the vallenwoods, "aren't there any other clerics
in your temple?"
"Not at the moment, no. Chislev's clerics do not tend to dwell in cities. Most
of them take to a life in the wilds. I am here to assist the people of Solace
and to protect its trees and its beasts. The rest are out there, in the woods
and the mountains."
"I see. But Mistress..." Bantam's brow was furrowed in thought, and Kalthana
could see, even in this young kender's face, the beginnings of the network of
wrinkles and lines that every mature kender wore proudly. "If you're here to
protect the beasts, why are people still allowed to hunt on the forest floor?
They kill beasts down there all the time! I don't like it!"
Kalthana smiled. "As disciples of Chislev, we might find such violence
distasteful, it's true. But we're also here to protect balance. Bantam, I
want you to imagine for a moment what would happen if no one ever killed a
deer or a rabbit. If there were no wolves, no bears, no panthers and no
humans."
Bantam thought hard. "There would be a whole lot of deer, I guess," she said.
"And would there be enough food to go around?"
"No. They'd starve. And...there'd be no more plants, and they'd have
no place to live."
"Exactly. Beasts who kill other beasts, whether they are wolves or elves or
men, are preventing THAT sort of suffering, which is far worse. Chislev is
nature, and nature is violent, Bantam."
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Boreadi, the Month of Mishamont, 13 15:36:36 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Bantam's training (cont'd)
Bantam nodded, but she still looked unhappy. "I just don't like it. When
something is hurt, or dying, I feel...afraid. When I was little and my Ma
would slaughter a chicken I'd feel terrible, and hide under the porch. Ma said
I'd understand when I was older, but it's only getting worse! When I saw that
cat dying in the street, I could feel everything, as if it was happening to me!"
Bantam was beginning to shake as she recalled that day, and Kalthana steadied
her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"What you feel is instinct, one of the most powerful forces on Krynn. Although
it can be quite unpleasant, you should rejoice, because it tells you that your
bond with Chislev is strong. Correct me if I am mistaken, Bantam, but you are
not a pure kender, are you?"
Bantam looked up, startled. "Well...er...I..."
"Don't be afraid. Your heritage is not your fault."
Bantam shook her head sheepishly. "My dad. Half-human."
"I see." Kalthana gazed thoughtfully at her disciple. "Bantam, pure kender do
not, as a rule, feel fear. Do you know what I think? I think Chislev chose
you because you have that trace of human blood in you. It's like a little door
through which the fear instinct can enter where it couldn't with a pure kender.
And fear is such an important, natural emotion -- it is maligned because of the
way those in power abuse it to control others, but it is part of the divine
plan. How could you hope to understand a wild beast if you couldn't feel
fear yourself? It may seem like a curse to you, but perhaps you could learn to
see it as a gift."
"A gift." Bantam brightened. "I never thought about it that way! I'm
feeling something hardly any kender ever gets to feel! Wait until I tell
everyone back in Groundbreak about it!"
And there, Kalthana thought, was the appeal of a kender. They may have been
irrepressible, impatient, undignified, and annoying -- but they were always,
always optimistic. And, she thought, recalling with a sigh the rumors that
were drifting about Solace of late, of war, of darkness, of false gods...
Krynn needed optimism more than it had in a long, long time.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Gilaedai, the Month of Mishamont, 21 22:41:22 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The next level.
"Bantam, I have been very impressed with your discipline over the past
moons." Kalthana was smiling as the gangling mixed-breed kender sat in meditation,
long limbs knotted into an impossible position, before a cool stream on the
forest floor in Solace.
Bantam looked up and her face split into an impish grin beneath her crooked
nose. Kalthana had placed her under an order of silence for the time being,
so Bantam couldn't respond with her voice. Resilient creature that she was,
though, the kender had learned to communicate quite effectively without it,
and her face tended to go into overdrive whenever Kalthana required her to shut
up. Kalthana was often driven to distraction during her priestly lectures as
the eyes rolled this way and that, the eyebrows danced, the pointed ears
waggled and the mouth twisted into expressions previously unknown to Krynn.
Undaunted, Kalthana continued. "You have learned to meditate without getting
up and wandering off every time a twig snaps or a bird sings. You have
learned to control your impulses to grab and examine everything in front of
you. You've become disciplined in your daily prayer. Your bond with Krynn
is becoming ever stronger as a result of your efforts. I'm sure you have
felt it."
Bantam nodded vigorously, her topknot bouncing up and down on her head.
"I believe it is time for you to begin learning in earnest."
Bantam's eyes widened and she scrambled hastily to her feet. This effort
caused her to lose her balance, as the grass in which she was sitting was
slick with dew, and she toppled over. She got up a second time, more
carefully, as Kalthana sighed and shook her head. "Are you all right?
Fine. Now, do try to compose yourself."
Bantam nodded and her face grew stern and solemn.
"You cannot learn nearly as effectively as I would wish here, in the city.
Even in a city like Solace. And so I am going to take you deep into the
forest, to Chislev's central temple. You will learn not only to heal the
wounded, but to channel Chislev's power to attack those who mean to harm her
domain, and enhance the strengths of those who wish to help her. You will
have to devote a great deal of prayer and study to mastering these spells..."
"Spells!?" Bantam blurted. Kalthana had made a tactical blunder. "I'm going
to learn to do magic like my father!?"
"In...a way, and quiet, Bantam!" The kender clapped her own hands over her
mouth. "We do not learn a set of secret words and gestures by rote, as mages
do. Where they must devote their lives to the study of books, we must devote
it to prayer, and the study of Chislev's domain. The stronger your link with
Chislev, the more access you will have to these spells." Bantam nodded. "If
you are ready to work, we will leave today."
Bantam did not speak. Instead, she turned and ran back to the temple to
collect her few possessions, both hands still glued firmly to her mouth all
the while.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Gilaedai, the Month of Chislmont, 4 17:01:09 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Trouble in the woods
To be enveloped in Chislev's magnificent wilderness swelled Bantam's
heart; a million earthen scents penetrated her nostrils at once, and
the cool shaded air was like a cleansing bath after weeks in Solace,
with its urban miasma of mingled wood smoke and horse manure. Still,
she felt uneasy. Something simply wasn't right; that was the only
way to explain it, like she was trying to write with the quill in her
right hand instead of her left. She looked up at Kalthana, who had
halted midstride, frowning.
"I feel funny," Bantam said.
Kalthana stood silently, listening, staring into the foliage. And so
Bantam continued: "There's just something that's not right here.
Usually in the woods I feel good, completely, from my head to my toes,
like it's my home. I don't feel like that here. It's like when you go
into your house and you don't know exactly what's different but you just
know that there's been a thief inside! Not that there were any thieves
in Groundbreak, but --"
"Shut up, Bantam!" Kalthana hissed. She listened during the moment of
silence allowed to her by the chastened acolyte. "There are no birds."
"Oh! That's it!" Bantam cried. "No birds! Well, isn't that odd? What
could make them stop singing? Birds NEVER stop singing, except sometimes
when they're in cages, probably because they're so sad; kender seldom
sing in jail, either. . ."
Kalthana reached out with one willowy arm and drew the small person
towards her."Birds stop singing," she said in a very low voice, "either
because they are asleep, or because they are very, very afraid."
"It's the afternoon," Bantam said. "Why would they be asleep? So that
means that --"
"Bantam, you must be silent now. You must not speak another word and you
must take the utmost care to walk silently, as I showed you, without
stumbling, without even snapping a twig. Something's quite amiss here,
and we must go to the safety of the temple now."
"Now?! But don't you want to find out what --"
"No! Do as I say!"
And they walked, quickly, Bantam's heart pounding with exhilaration.
How mysterious all this was! What on Krynn could make all the birds in
the forest stop singing at once? She wanted so badly to go and find out
what it was. She was poor in the stealthy arts, compared to her brothers
and sisters and aunts and uncles and even her ill-fated cousin Deadfoot,
but maybe, if she was really careful and she focused very hard on what
Kalthana had taught her. . .
Kalthana hurried on towards the safety of the temple. "Such remarkable
stealth, Bantam," she whispered. "Is that what you've been working on
when you wander off after evening prayer? You needn't answer. . .
Bantam? Bantam?!"
But by the time she glanced over her shoulder, the kender had vanished.
Kalthana swore an oath seldom heard in the vicinity of the temple. Then,
she tightened her grip on her vallenwood mace, and began to retrace
her steps.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Boreadi, the Month of Chislmont, 10 18:38:40 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Captured!
"Well!" Bantam huffed to herself. "It's absolutely too quiet here!"
She shrunk a little in embarrassment as her shrill voice echoed in
the woods. It WAS quiet, and her unintentional outburst seemed
almost offensive in the silence. She placed one hand over her mouth
and listened, and breathed deeply in and out through her nose,
trying to lower her heart rate, as Kalthana had taught her. But it
was just too exciting! She'd been cooped up in Solace for so long,
and in the prime of Wanderlust, too -- it was just unfair. She was
sure Kalthana wouldn't mind if she did a bit of reconnaissance.
She ducked low into the undergrowth and began to stalk, looking for a
trail. She tripped over a tree root. She picked herself up and
brushed a bit of moist black earth off her green and yellow tunic.
She walked into a tree. She massaged the place where the rough bark
had scraped her cheek, and glared at the trunk. She turned, and
stubbed her toe on a rock that was embedded in the ground. She swore
loudly. That was when she felt a rough hand on her shoulder.
"Look what we have here," rasped a low, moist voice behind her.
The breath behind the voice smelled like rotten goat meat. Bantam
looked over her shoulder, and into the face of one of the ugliest
hobgoblins she'd ever seen.
"Hello!" she said, attempting a winning smile.
The hobgoblin didn't reply. Rather, he hoisted her into the air
by the topknot and began carrying her elsewhere. This was quite
unacceptably painful, and Bantam began to scream, curse, and flail
her limbs. She managed to land a few good kicks and punches, but
the hobgoblin's arms, unfortunately, were longer than hers, and he
simply moved her further away from his body. After a short walk,
she was brought to a small camp, where the remains of some animal
charred over a flaming pit and a hodgepodge of mercenaries sat
around it, talking in loud voices. There were a few wooden wagons,
too, with bars in the windows, and Bantam could see dejected,
malnourished figures huddled inside. Slavers!
"Look what I found stumbling around the camp," the hobgoblin
said with a sticky chuckle. "A volunteer worker!"
"That's a kender," scoffed a lean, fair-haired human who was
lounging against a tree. "They don't work. Better just kill it."
"Too big to be a kender," argued a dwarf sitting by the fire.
"Looks like an elf in a kender costume."
"Too clumsy to be an elf OR a kender," the hobgoblin growled.
"Didn't seem to know WHERE it was going."
The human laughed. "Give it to a band of gnomes to dissect and
figure out exactly what it is, then. But don't clutter up the camp
with it."
"Okay." The hobgoblin unsheathed a large knife. Bantam gulped.
"Wait!" she said, throwing up her hands. "Don't kill me! I'm,
um, half human," she lied. She tried to make her voice sound lower
and calmer than it actually was. "I grew up in Solace. I'm barely
a kender, really. I'll work for you. Please."
"You sure LOOK like a kender," the hobgoblin said.
"I'm, um, trying to find my real father. I thought it'd help if I
dressed like them. Pretty stupid-looking, isn't it?"
"You got that right," said the hobgoblin. He turned towards the
other members of the camp and reinitiated the debate. Bantam wished
they'd stop arguing so he'd put her down. "What do you think?
We're low on workers. The two in there look like they're going to
drop dead any minute."
The human rolled his eyes. "Do what you want, then, but don't let
the Fewmaster blame me when he sees we're feeding and housing a
god damn kender."
The hobgoblin lifted Bantam up until she was eye to eye with him. She
winced. "You'd better work, half-breed scum, or we WILL kill you.."
He confiscated her hoopak, threw her into one of the wagons, and
slammed the door shut.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Gilaedai, the Month of Chislmont, 11 18:16:16 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Mysterious murmurs (1 of 2)
Well, this was just too much. First the indignity of being dragged
around by a smelly hobgoblin, then the "filthy half-breed" remark,
and now this -- a cage. Every kender's worst nightmare. Oh well
-- at least now perhaps she could listen in and figure out what
these "people" were up to.
She had, at the very least, a couple of roommates, but they weren't
very much fun. One was a dejected Qualinesti elf, thin as a
sapling, whose body erupted in hacking coughs every few minutes,
and who simply rolled over to face the wall when Bantam asked what
his name was. The cough sounded terrible. Bantam wondered if she
might be able to cure him. The other was a middle-aged human who
sat in the corner, hugging her knees. Friendly enough, but not
very chatty -- understandably. She felt sorry for them.
She found a spot in the corner where she could easily see
and hear what was going on outside, and laid down on the straw-
covered floor of the wagon, pretending to be asleep. Then she
listened to their conversation.
"The Fewmaster wants us to build the fortification right here, so
we have strategic access to Solace..." (Fewmaster? What in
Chislev's domain was a Fewmaster?) "We'll have to cut down some
of these big trees and burn away the undergrowth..." (Not under
her and Kalthana's watch, they wouldn't!) "...family of wildcats
living under that uprooted hackberry has been poking around the
supply wagon, I'm going to try to smoke them out and kill 'em
tomorrow..." (Why! She'd like to see the ugly brutes try!) "The
Fewmaster said there might be some weird druids lurking around
here -- said to kill them if you see any..." (Well, of all the
nerve!) "Their temple's supposed to be around here somewhere and
we might be able to raid it for food and medicine..." (When
Kalthana hears about this!)
Bantam had heard enough. She had to escape and warn Kalthana.
She'd think of a way to do that later. First, she thought, she'd
better pray. So she sat cross-legged in a corner and began
murmuring to Chislev in a low voice.
Bantam had heard enough. She had to escape and warn Kalthana.
She'd think of a way to do that later. First, she thought, she'd
better pray. So she sat cross-legged in a corner and began
murmuring to Chislev in a low voice.
The starving elf lifted his head. Then, he rolled over and stared
at Bantam as if he were seeing her for the first time. "I can't
believe my eyes," he croaked. "A kender...and a disciple of the
Wild One?"
(cont'd)
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Gilaedai, the Month of Chislmont, 11 18:20:11 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Mysterious murmurs (2 of 2)
Bantam looked up, annoyed that he'd interrupted her, but happy that
he was talking to her at last. "Of course," she said proudly. "I
was just on my way to the t --" She stopped, glanced out at the
hulking figures around the campfire, and lowered her voice to a
whisper. "...to the temple. My teacher said to be quiet and come
with her because something was wrong but I decided to come
investigate and then they caught me and threw me in here."
"And look where it's got you! How very like a kender," muttered
the Qualinesti.
Bantam glared at him. "You're lucky I'm here," she hissed.
"Maybe I can help you!"
The elf's face softened a little. "I don't know, little one," he
said. "You'd have to have some pretty good tricks up your
sleeve..." His body was racked with another violent coughing fit.
Bantam crawled to his side and began to pray to Chislev. She
imagined her knees were the roots of a tree, reaching far, far
down into the dirt and binding her firmly with Krynn, and she
imagined Krynn's power filtering up through those roots like pure
water, and dripping though her fingertips, bathing the sick elf.
She felt the divine energy tingling through her body, a familiar
feeling, now, and a pale green light flickered over the elf's
prone figure for a moment.
She could tell that she hadn't cured whatever ailed him, but she
did, at least, manage to calm the spate of coughing, and his
breathing became normal again. She whipped an old handkerchief
from a pouch on her waist and wiped a bit of blood-specked spittle
from his lips. Then she slumped against the wall of the wagon,
her energy spent for the moment. "True healing," he said quietly.
"Thank you."
"My name's Bantam Catsbetter," she said, and stuck out her hand.
"Ganathali Thornpath," said the elf. "And I'll shake your hand
only because I have nothing left for you to borrow..." He
clasped her hand. His grip was weak and his skin was icy.
"I'm going to get us out of here," vowed Bantam.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Gilaedai, the Month of Chislmont, 18 16:43:23 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The demise of a tree (1 of 2)
"Rise and shine," roared the hobgoblin guard as he struck the
wooden wall of the slave wagon hard with his brass-knuckled
fist. The little room rattled with the impact, and Bantam,
Ganathali, and the silent human woman jolted awake. He slung
the door open. Bantam followed the elf and human as they
shuffled out. "You're going to cut down these trees."
Bantam winced and Ganathali's shoulders sagged a little as
the creature gestured towards a stand of beautiful old-growth
vallenwoods. "You cut. Don't mess the wood up. We need
it."
"But we haven't even had breakfast," Bantam cried. The
hobgoblin bashed her on the head with the handle of his sword
and she yelped in pain, massaging it as tears sprung to her
eyes. Ganathali gave her a "Well, what did you expect?"
look. The three of them were chained together with rusty
leg shackles and given dull axes that they could barely lift.
The mercenaries seemed amused by their struggles to keep the
axeheads upright. The hobgoblin shoved the three of them to
one of the largest and most magnificent trees, and watched
them expectantly.
"But why do you want us to do it? We're smaller than you and
they're half-dead!" complained the irrepressible kender,
still rubbing the welt on her head and examining the palm of
her hand for streaks of crimson. "You're so strong. You'd be
faster and better at it."
"Shut up!" The hobgoblin smacked Bantam sharply across the
cheek. "Slaves cut. We do IMPORTANT things, like read
plans."
"You can read?" Bantam asked. Ganathali covered his eyes in
anticipation before the kender was bashed over the head
again.
"Disrespectful little worm!" snarled the hobgoblin. "You
know, I was CHIEFTAIN of my tribe before they..." The
hobgoblin paused, and frowned. "Not important why I'm not
chieftain anymore! But chieftains don't cut! Slaves cut!
You are a slave! Now, get to work!!" He gave her a little
shove towards the tree.
"I can't do this," Bantam thought. "This tree must be
centuries old..." She looked into Ganathali's eyes, and
sensed that similar thoughts were running through his head.
Then, she glanced over at the little cluster of wagons nearby
that made up the caravan, and suddenly, a memory came to
her...
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Gilaedai, the Month of Chislmont, 18 16:46:20 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The demise of a tree (2 of 2)
"We need to get rid of this rotten old thing to put in the
new chicken coop," Henbane Feedcooker said briskly as her
daughter stood before the long-dead mulberry tree with a
small axe in her hands.
"Why do I have to do it, Ma?" Bantam complained.
"Because you're bigger than me, and also, my rheumatism is
acting up! Kipper Quicksnip said to rest my wrists. Anyway,
you go ahead and do the thing in while I go and get the
chickens out of the old coop so we can tear it down for the
scrap lumber. It'll be fun." Henbane bustled off.
"We meaning me, I suppose! Don't know why we need a new
chicken coop anyway," Bantam mumbled to herself as she swung
the axe as hard as she could. It buried itself in the wood
with a satisfying THUNK. "I like this tree. I mean, it's
dead and all but it's perfect for climbing..." THUNK.
"Besides, someone might live in here..." THUNK. "Chopping
trees is a job for some big old ogre, not for a kender girl!
But just 'cause I'm bigger than everyone else..." THUNK,
THUNK, THUNK. She continued to daydream and mutter to
herself as she hacked at the tree. Soon, it began to shudder
in a telltale way. Excited to be done with the chore, she
chopped faster and faster until...
"BANTAM! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" shrieked Henbane, as shrilly
as the birds she was carrying under each arm.
"Cutting down the tree, of course," Bantam explained as it
rocked and teetered. Was her mother going silly in her old
age?
"But you've notched it on the wrong side, you silly girl!
Oh, no! It's too laaaate!" Henbane's voice reached the
summit of its range as the tree fell majestically onto the
rooftop of their little house, caving the roof in and
shattering the attic windows.
Henbane and Bantam surveyed the destruction in silence for a
moment. A squirrel emerged from a hole in the tree and began
barking a string of complaints, threats and ultimatums at
Bantam. Henbane turned towards her daughter, who shrank to
about half her former size. "Well, you never said..." she
began.
And suddenly, everything was all right as her mother burst
into great whoops of laughter, dropping the armful of
chickens to dab tears from her eyes. "Oh, Bantam," she
giggled. "For someone so smart you sure don't have an ounce
of sense!"
"Sorry, Ma," Bantam said. "I wasn't paying attention..."
"Well, let's get 20 or so of the neighbors together and pull
this thing off the house," she said. "I've been thinking how
nice it'd be to have some extra sunlight in that attic,
anyway..."
Bantam looked at the massive vallenwood, and then back at the
little wagons of the caravan, which looked like children's
models next to the towering, ancient trees. A slow smile
spread across her face.
The human woman swung her axe.
"STOP!" Bantam said. "You're notching that tree on the wrong
side." She assumed her most confident voice. "I grew up on
a farm. I know what I'm talking about. We want to start
over here." She took a wide stance, swung, and planted her
axe on the side closest to the caravan. THUNK. "I've cut down
millions of trees." She stared into the human's glassy eyes,
willing her to play along. To her relief, the woman shrugged
and nodded. She looked over at Ganathali. The corners of
his mouth turned up, just slightly, and a glimmer that wasn't
there before came into his eyes.
"If you say so, Bantam," he said, and hurled the axe at the
trunk.
"No more chatter," growled the hobgoblin. "Cut!"
Bantam raised her eyes to the heavens and silently thanked
Chislev for the stupidity of the hobgoblin race.
THUNK.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Gilaedai, the Month of Chislmont, 25 15:22:21 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Diversion and flight
The noise and chaos caused by the collapse of the mighty vallenwood
onto the little cluster of caravan wagons were terrific. In the
short time it took for the slavemasters to figure out what was
going on, Bantam, Ganathali and the mute woman were off, doing the
best they could with the chains around their feet as Bantam shouted
steps like a drill sergeant.
Her eyes had been darting about, looking for escape routes, as they
felled the tree, and at last she had settled upon a narrow deer
trail she had spied which led into a wooded gully. She made for it
- "Left, right, left, right, left!" - but they stumbled over tree
roots and downed branches as they descended into it, and they ended
up tumbling down the wall of the ravine instead of climbing. They
landed in a muddy hole, their chains tangled around a gnarled
stump, and were scurrying to pick themselves up when they felt a
strong gust of wind and heard a beating of feathery wings. Bantam
looked up.
"Kalthana!" she yelped in astonishment. So her mistress hadn't
forgotten about her! For here she was, and mounted upon a
beautiful creature which Bantam had never had the good fortune to
see before -- but she'd certainly heard a number of tales about it
back in Groundbreak. It was a griffin, a great powerful beast, the
back half lion and the front half eagle. True, it wasn't twenty
feet high like Cousin Featherfoot had told her, nor was it spitting
fire as Fleabane Stoneskipper had averred -- but to be sure, it was
far more thrilling to see this one face to face than to hear a
story about the most monstrous fire-breather of all. And besides,
Bantam thought, maybe it was still young.
"Shhh!" Kalthana put her finger to her lips. "They're coming after
you right now!" she whispered. "I've been waiting for a chance to
grab you and this is the best one I'll get. Hold still!"
She spoke a soft command to the griffin in her ancient elvish
tongue, and the beast reared and brought its talons down on the
tree stump. Then, it dug its claws into the ground beneath the
stump and lifted, uprooting it with one powerful swipe. Grabbing
the stump and the chains in one great fistful, it beat its wings
and leapt gracefully into the air on its huge feline hind legs,
rising up out of the ravine just in time to send the three
slavemasters staggering backwards in fear and surprise. Bantam
winced as the chain dug into her leg and pulled herself upright to
take the weight off of it, hugging the griffin around its narrow,
scaly ankle with one arm while offering her other to Ganathali and
the human woman, that they might do the same.
She couldn't hear what the enraged hobgoblin was roaring at her as
they rose into the air, but she was sure it wasn't nice. She gave
him a little wave and a smile, and then relaxed, hypnotized by the
infinite green of the forest as it broadened in their wake.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Nuindai, the Month of Corij, 8 03:44:31 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Rescued
"Bantam, let me just tell you one thing," Kalthana said after the griffin
had landed safely on a faraway hilltop, and the dizzy passengers had
disembarked, tumbling onto the cool grass to collect themselves and
thanking the gods they were back on land. "When I tell you to follow me,
you do as you're told! Do you understand? You might have gotten
yourself killed by those brutes! You're lucky they didn't just slaughter
you on sight because you're a kender!"
"Three quarters kender," Bantam corrected her. "And I wasn't lucky - I
just had to be smarter than a hobgoblin, which isn't all that difficult,
and are you even going to ask me what I found out? Oh, it's really
important, Kalthana!"
The Kagonesti sighed. "I'm interested in hearing what you discovered,
but first we have to get you into the temple."
"Okay, but can we take my new friends, please? Ganathali's really sick,
and I don't know what's the matter with this lady, but she sure could use
a good meal."
The Qualinesti stood up, looked down in disgust at his tattered and muddy
clothes, and tried to recover his dignity as he bowed before the
priestess. "I am Ganathali Thornpath of Qualinost. I pledge my
allegiance to the Wild One. I do not know who this poor woman is, but
she doesn't speak." His knees buckled as another coughing fit seized
him.
"I tried to cure him, Kalthana, but I couldn't, not all the way," Bantam
said apologetically.
Kalthana scrutinized the human woman closely for a long moment. "Of
course, we will take your new friends," she said finally. "Come along,
it is very close. I will show you the way from Solace, Bantam, once it
is safe for you to be in these woods on your own. There is too much evil
lurking here." The elf spoke a soft word to the griffin, and the great
animal padded a good distance from the group before springing into the
air and gliding away, back to wherever it had come from, Bantam assumed.
"Wow," she breathed. "Wait until I tell Ma I got to ride a griffin! Maybe
I could ride one all the way back to Groundbreak so they would all know I
was telling the truth..." She closed her eyes and smiled for a moment,
picturing her sensational entrance. They wouldn't tease her for not
being able to pick a lock after that!
"That will NOT happen," Kalthana said sternly as she put a guiding arm
around the weakened Ganathali and led the group forward through the
woods. "At least not without the griffin's permission, and they are not
fond of kender."
"How do you know what they're fond of?" Bantam frowned at the back of
Kalthana's head. "They can't talk."
"Some say they can," Ganathali said in a hoarse voice, "but they choose
not to as they feel it's foolish."
Bantam glanced involuntarily at the human woman, then felt embarrassed
and looked back at the sky where the griffin had been. "Well, I know
what it's like not to be allowed to talk," she murmured, "and I'd ALWAYS
choose talking..."
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Boreadi, the Month of Argon, 3 18:40:07 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The temple
When Bantam stepped into Chislev's temple, she felt that she had
entered the heart of Krynn itself. Though it was nestled in an
earthen grotto, the air was not the stagnant, stale stuff she knew
from the handful of little caves she'd stumbled into over the years
-- it seemed to pulse rhythmically with an unseen energy Bantam did
not understand. The sanctuary was cool and damp, illuminated by a
few shafts of sunlight that entered through small openings in the
cavern's ceiling. The quality of the light was dim and soothing.
Bantam's eyes and those of the elves quickly adjusted to the
darkness, but the human woman blinked and grasped for handholds as
she walked further into the inner sanctum.
"Please, take my arm," Bantam said to the human. "We don't want you
to slip and fall!"
The woman looked warily at Bantam, but as she had been stripped of
her possessions by her captors weeks ago, she seemed to decide she
had nothing to fear from the kender, and accepted her guidance.
A fat drop of water fell from the ceiling and burst on Bantam's
forehead, and she giggled. "Oh! I've been kissed!"
Ganathali raised an eyebrow at the kender. "What are you talking
about?"
"Oh." Bantam grinned. "When a cave drips on you, we call it the
cave's kiss! It's just a story. The way my Cousin Hotspurs told
it, Furlow Paddingfeet, the hero, was riding his Abanasinian pony
when --"
"There's no time for a story right now, I'm afraid, little
one," Kalthana said. "Come along. I must take you to the
chambers of the Starmistress."
"What's a Starmistress?" Bantam asked.
"The Order refers to the highest-ranking priest or priestess of any
temple as its Starmaster or Starmistress. Rank is not quite so
iron-clad a concept in our temple as in some of the others, and so
we simply elected our eldest and most accomplished cleric as our
Starmistress."
Bantam was even more confused. "What's the Order?"
"The Holy Order of the Stars, Bantam. It is an organization to
which all healers and other devotees of the Gods must belong, lest
they be marked as Heathens and prosecuted."
Bantam frowned. "I don't recall joining that! Am I a Heathen? Gosh,
I've been running around being a Heathen all these moons without
even knowing it! How exciting! Should I go into hiding?"
"No, no, Bantam! You are an acolyte of our temple and our temple
belongs to the Order. It is unnecessary for you to join both. The
two are linked."
"Oh." Bantam failed to conceal her disappointment in this news.
"Not that there aren't a few rogue druids out in the wilds who do
not associate themselves with us. They are no less disciples of
Chislev for avoiding such alignment. The Order is a human
construction. It cannot possibly encompass all the faces of the
Beast -- nor can it wield power over every devotee of every face."
"I see," Bantam said, now picturing Chislev as a bizarre, many-
headed thing, antlers and ears, manes and snouts of every ilk
springing from her. She made a mental note to try her hand at
sketching later - perhaps she could convey her vision in paper and
charcoal.
"Stay here. I am going to take your companions to a senior healer
so that we might find out what ails them, and then I shall take you
to the Starmistress."
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Manthus, the Month of Argon, 8 22:37:37 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Starmistress Janna (1 of 2)
As they delved further into the depths of the temple, leaving the two former
captives behind, Bantam began to notice something different about the walls.
They were glittering slightly, as if they were covered in ice -- but it wasnt
cold. She drew a match from one of her pouches and struck it, admiring the
strange rock, and momentarily, something clicked. "Oh! Quartz!" she exclaimed.
"Its all quartz! How beautiful!"
"Oh, yes," Kalthana laughed. "People are always impressed the first time they
see the Geode. Wait until we get a little further in..."
And as they neared the end of the dim tunnel they were in, Bantam saw a faint
white glow in the darkness. Finally, she thought, a little light but she
was unprepared for what she saw when the tunnel widened into a vast central
chamber. The walls, the floor, and the ceiling were all made entirely of
glittering quartz. The rock of the floor was ground down until it was as
smooth as glass and the color of milk, but everywhere else, the untouched,
translucent crystals reflected light from every face, and the effect was more
dazzling than the finest chandelier any hands could craft.
"It may well be the largest geode on Krynn," Kalthana said, smiling inwardly
at the kender's childish, speechless wonder. "It is said that a priest was
guided here many centuries ago by a vision of Chislev in the form of a lynx.
We have worshipped here ever since."
"My cousin Randik Pinfeathers collects geodes," Bantam breathed, "but I bet
he never found one like this..." Spinning around where she stood to try and
take in everything at once, she tried to locate the source of the light. They
were deep in Krynn's belly now, so it wasn't the sun. Where was it coming
from? Her sharp eyes fell upon the answer. "Oh, my! Is that moss glowing?"
"Yes, indeed," Kalthana said. "It is actually a very rare variety of fungus.
It is a native of Klarbardin, but we cultivate it here." She reached towards
a cluster of the luminescent fuzz clinging to the rock, and plucked a small
piece of it. "Here, touch it." Bantam held the fungus between her thumb and
forefinger, examined it, and sniffed it. "But don't eat it," cautioned
Kalthana.
"I wouldn't do that," Bantam said indignantly. "What makes it glow? Is it
enchanted?"
"Only by Chislev, Zivilyn and Branchala themselves," the elf said. "The
glowing is part of its chemical structure, although I'm afraid I cannot
explain it much further..."
"It is a fairly simple thing, small one," came a bright, clear voice behind
them. "A catalyst, a little oxygen, a chemical reaction and praise Chislev,
the darn thing lights up like a dwarf in a dark alehouse!"
Bantam turned at the sound of the voice, and saw a slight, grey-haired woman
in plain brown robes. She had hazel eyes and a network of wrinkles over her
suntanned face that would have made any kender proud. "Ah, Bantam," Kalthana
said. "Meet Janna. The Starmistress."
"Oh, what an honor!" Bantam bowed so low the tip of her topknot brushed the
toes of her boots. So this was the Starmistress -- a human, of all things!
She had been expecting yet another haughty elf, and so was rather pleased with
the surprise. She wondered how old the priestess was. Kender tended to
wrinkle much more quickly than humans, so she'd always been bad at guessing.
She could have been fifty or one hundred, for all the kender knew.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Manthus, the Month of Argon, 8 22:39:30 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Starmistress Janna (2 of 2)
"I'm pleased to meet you, too," said the old woman with laughter in her eyes.
"You are, ah, an unusual student for us, to be sure -- but I'm much too old
to turn down such a challenge. I shall have to teach you better than any of
my previous students, just to prove that I can."
"Lately, Bantam has not only been a healer, but a spy, Janna," said the elf.
"I had to rescue her from a slave caravan, from which she escaped after a few
nights of unplanned reconnaissance."
"Oh? How exciting, Bantam! Let's go to my chambers and you can tell me all
about what you found out."
And so Bantam related the tale of the hobgoblin, the other slavers, of the
strange talk about Fewmasters and fort-building and pillaging, and the
outrageous implication that the very temple they sat in was to be raided for
supplies. Janna chuckled at this.
"Pish! They'd never find it," she said. "Chislev protects this place. The
entrance is practically invisible to outsiders. Anyway, even if they did, the
Wildrunners could dispatch them easily."
"Especially if they all have griffins like Kalthana does," Bantam said, her
eyes clouding over with the blissful memory of the ride she had taken earlier.
"No, I'm much more concerned with the fact that these people seemed to have
their eyes on Solace. You say there were only a handful of men?"
"Yes, but they talked like they were just a part of a bigger group. I got the
idea they weren't very important in the scheme of things. A bunch of stupid,
dirty old mercenaries in charge of a sick elf, a kinder and a mute lady? I
doubt they're the worst this 'Fewmaster' has to offer, whatever a 'Fewmaster'
might be."
"Disturbing stuff." Janna tapped her chin and paced back and forth for a
while. "I don't doubt for a minute it has something to do with these rumors
of war coming from the south. I think that you ought to return to Solace,
Kalthana, and be vigilant! I will send a few of our scouts with you and they
can see what they can see. If anything happens, send me a message. Meanwhile
we'll have our ears and eyes open here, and keep our watch over these woods as
we always have."
"So it shall be, Janna," Kalthana nodded. "And do you think you'll be capable
of managing my young acolyte here?"
"I think so." Janna's eyes bored into Bantam's, and for a moment she almost
felt herself quail under such powerful scrutiny. But then the old woman
smiled, and Bantam grinned back, relieved. "Are you ready to work, young thing?"
"Oh, absolutely! Oh, of course!"
"Then let's begin!"
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Shinarai, the Month of Argon, 9 22:03:38 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Higher education
Life at the geode temple was strenuous, with long days of prayer and study --
but there were advantages, too. Bantam had her own private chamber to work
in. She was provided with her own wooden rack where she could dry and
squirrel away all the herbs, flowers and fungi she could gather. She had her
own library full of delightfully musty old tomes on herblore, zoology, and
the more mystic, arcane healing arts. For half the day she would toil away
in her little pharmacopoeia, her wiry arms growing strong from hours spent
pulverizing plants in a large mortar and pestle, making powders and
tinctures, and macerating leaves for their essential oils. And for the other
half, she would go out into the wood to gather more supplies, to meditate,
and to pray.
Even more than having her own room, Bantam adored Starmistress Janna. Where
her initial training with Kalthana involved a great deal of shushing, severe
looks, and busywork, Janna treated the kender as a colleague. She was
included in everything that went on at the temple, and encouraged to
experiment and explore on her own. Janna barely seemed to notice that her
student was a kender, and never admonished her to put something down, just
because she was curious about it -- that was refreshing. On the other hand,
the expectation that she would behave as a senior cleric was a burden
sometimes, too. Often Janna would give Bantam a quick, complicated set of
instructions with little explanation and hurry away, confident that Bantam
would figure things out for herself. "Make that elf a tisane of willow bark
and meadowsweet," she'd say, "boiled over a fire of hedge wood for the length
of time it takes for the sun to get from the top of that big elm to the base
of its trunk, and put a blessing of fever reduction over it, and administer
it to him in five doses over a day." Well, that was all enough to remember
already, but how much water? What quantity of each plant? Did she give it
to him hot, or cold? What if the sun wasn't up at the time? Bantam was
frequently sent scrambling to her books and her notes to clear up the
details. For a while she resented this -- what if someone keeled over
because she made the medicine wrong?! -- but after a while, she noticed that
she rarely forgot things after she'd been forced to look them up once or
twice.
Ganathali improved rapidly under Janna's supervision and Bantam's care, and
became even more sarcastic and insulting towards his diminutive healer.
Bantam didn't mind, though, since he was the kind of person she could tell
didn't mean it. Usually when elves want to insult you, Bantam reflected,
they do it without actually doing it.
The human wasn't improving much, though. "She's not deaf," Ganathali said.
"I know she's not. She jolted awake with the rest of us when those idiots
would bang on the bars in the morning. There's nothing wrong with her
throat. She just won't say a word. Maybe she's suffered some kind of
trauma."
"Or maybe she's some kind of holy woman," Bantam speculated. "Maybe she's
under a vow of silence!"
"But then why doesn't she just WRITE it?"
"Maybe she can't write."
"And there's something else strange about her," Ganathali added. "Her eyes.
They stare at you too hard."
"Yes, I've noticed that too," Bantam said. "I wonder where she came from."
"We might never know," he said. "I'm just glad I don't have to share a
small, cramped cell with her anymore..."
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Manthus, the Month of Argon, 15 22:59:01 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The mute's disappearance (1of 2)
As the weeks passed, Bantam began to wonder if Ganathali and the mute woman
planned to leave. It was impossible to ask her about it, but she seemed to
be waiting for Ganathali - furtively peering at him when he discussed his
plans with Janna and Bantam, and sighing in apparent exasperation every time
he decided to stay another day.
"You can go any time you want," Janna told him repeatedly. "You're well
enough. You'll be back to normal in no time."
"Thank you," he'd say, "but I have no place to be."
"Don't you want to go back to Qualinost, Ganathali?" Bantam asked.
"No," came the short answer.
"But why not?"
"I don't like it there."
" But why not?"
" They don't like me there."
" But wh--"
" I'd rather not talk about why, all right, you pest?"
" Okay, but then where will you go? Solace?"
" Oh, I don't know. Maybe. Maybe I'll do some traveling, just see if
anywhere else suits me better than here."
"Traveling!" Bantam's ears perked at this. "Could I come with you? I mean,
when I'm done here. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to go yet."
Ganthali cringed. "If I said no, would it stop you from going with me
anyway?"
"Of course," Bantam said, hurt. "I don't stay around when I'm not wanted.
I don't like being around grumpy people who don't like me and say mean
things to me and think they're better than me because they're an elf and..."
"Oh, Bantam, I was only joking. I'm sure you'd be a very good traveling
companion. If I do go, you can feel free to come with me."
(contd)
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Manthus, the Month of Argon, 15 23:01:00 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The mute's disappearance (2 of 2)
fall down and cut yourself or pick up a cold or something."
"Now, don't get too ambitious with your healing." Ganathali laughed.
"Didn't I see you mend two broken legs yesterday? Didn't you master the
prayers to cure the plague and the wasting disease right after you came
here? And those teas you make me!"
"Well, that's with Janna watching..." Bantam frowned. "I still don't know
how I'd do all by myself. I feel like I'm with Chislev all the time, of
course. I'm just still not sure if she always knows I'm there. Also I
can't take my books with me and I still look at them all the time."
"Oh, I'm sure you will be fine, Bantam. Maybe getting out of the temple and
into Chislev's domain for a while is exactly what you need."
"Maybe you're right!" Bantam said, intrigued. "Well, I'll ask Janna. I
know she wanted me to stay for a lot longer...oh! Let's ask that lady to go
along!"
Ganathali grimaced. "Are you serious?"
"Sure! She doesn't say much and she can't just creep around here for the
rest of her life, bothering the clerics, can she? I'll go ask right now."
And so Bantam skipped down the cool, earthen hallway that led to the little
chamber where the mute woman stayed. She saw dim yellow lantern light
pouring from it as she approached, on tiptoe, in case the woman was resting
or napping.
But as she came closer, to her great shock, she heard something -- she heard
whispering! But it didn't sound like a woman's voice. It was low and harsh
and guttural. And it was speaking the strange, sibilant tongue of magic,
the sound of which always gave Bantam gooseflesh. What in the world is
going on? she wondered to herself. Could she actually be a magic user?
Hardly breathing, she crept to the chamber opening, and peered in.
She could not see the woman at all, but on the wall of the grotto she saw a
massive shadow flickering in the light. It did not belong to a human. The
form was bent and lumpy, and the head was long and reptilian, and the tail -
- well -- the tail! Bantam covered her mouth with her hand, catching her
astonished squeak before it could emerge. The string of arcane words
reached a growling crescendo as the creature raised its arm, and Bantam
thought she could see claws on the ends of its fingers.
She tore herself away from the scene and pounded up the hall at full speed,
her heart battering against her rib cage like an agitated bird. It was only
after she had arrived, panting, in the central chamber, that she stopped to
wonder if the creature had heard her departing footsteps.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Nuindai, the Month of Argon, 20 21:13:09 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The mute's secret
"Goodness, Bantam!" Janna laughed when the kender burst into her study.
"You're pale as a wraith."
Bantam glanced over her shoulder, panting. "I've just seen something
scary!"
"It's not like your kind to be scared."
"But Janna, listen!" Bantam dropped her voice to a whisper. "The human
lady! She's gone, and instead of her, there's a...a...a THING in her
room! A magic-user, with a long snout, and a...tail!"
"What?" Janna said in a low voice. Though she sounded surprised, her
voice carried no trace of doubt.
"It's true, Janna, and its voice was so terrible, and - well - all I
could see was the shadow, but it frightened me a little! We have to go
and find out what it is and what it's done with the woman!"
Janna was listening to Bantam, but no longer looking at her. Her
attention was drawn to the sounds of a scuffle outside in the geode's
central chamber. Swift as a coyote despite her age, Janna rose from her
chair and followed the sound, Bantam tailing close behind her.
But Bantam was quite relieved to see her human friend was the one
struggling with the guards at the chamber entrance. "Oh, thank the true
gods, it's you!" She ran past the guards, breaking through their crossed
spears, and clasped the woman in a warm hug. "What was that THING in
your room? Did it attack you? Where is it now?"
"Bantam." Janna's voice was more tense than usual.
"Janna, we should get her to the healing chambers! She's been through a
terrifying attack! She may be in shock. Gosh, what did that thing LOOK
like up close? I guess you can't tell me."
"Bantam. Get away from her."
The Starmistress's voice was so forceful that Bantam stepped back almost
immediately, a confused look on her face. But then she looked up at the
human. She was breathing quickly, her eyes darting from the Starmistress
to the guards, and she was now trying to back away down the corridor.
Janna bowed her head. "Chislev," she prayed. "Reveal the woman's true
nature!" Her hands shot out from her robe, and translucent purple smoke
billowed from her palms, enveloping the woman. Instantaneously, the
woman's visage and body melted away and were replaced by the features of
a monster: a long, scabrous head with protruding fangs and short, curved
horns, a lean, muscular body shaped like a man's but covered with a
tough, bony hide like a reptile's, a long spiked tail, clawed hands and
feet. The thing gave a horrible, piercing shriek of rage and ran,
knocking the Wildrunners aside with one great outward sweep of its
muscular limbs. Janna gave chase, and Bantam, again, was at her heels.
Ahead, they heard a loud bang, and the corridor began to fill with thick,
black smoke.
"Magic," Bantam managed to say before she began to cough. Janna swore.
She said a quick prayer to Chislev and a cool wind began to swirl about
them, bringing life-saving air to their lungs.
"We have to keep going," Janna said. "It might kill someone! But this
breeze won't follow us for long. Get a good lungful and RUN!"
On they pounded through the black smoke. Bantam stumbled and fell once,
bloodying her palms on the jagged quartz as she grabbed at the geode
walls to stop herself. Moments later she fell a second time, and upon
impact, her desperate lungs involuntarily opened and gulped a mouthful of
the smoke, and she became lightheaded, drowsy. Dangerously low on
oxygen, she tried to stand and run, but stumbled, and felt herself
falling, falling, further than she should have, past the floor, forever
into the infinite blackness...
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Soldai, the Month of Argon, 21 22:25:02 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The scale and the stones (1 of 2)
Bantam opened her eyes. It was black all around, as if she had stepped into a
moonless, starless night sky. No floor was below her feet, she could see no
ceiling above her, and her groping limbs could find no walls. She managed to
get to her feet in spite of this, and marveled that she could stand upon
nothing. "Goodness! Have I died?" she wondered aloud. "Well, I certainly
hope not, because this is not what I'd imagined at all. How boring! I
thought Grandma would be here! Maybe even my father! But THIS!" She placed
her hands on her hips and frowned at her surroundings. "It's just NOTHING!"
"You're not dead, Bantam," a disembodied voice intoned inside her head. It
was a comforting, maternal voice with which Bantam was already quite familiar.
"Not yet. But you do need to find your way out of here."
"Chislev!" Bantam shouted. "It's you! I wasn't sure you were following me
around anymore!"
"Of course I am, Bantam. But I haven't needed to help you as much as I used
to."
Bantam scanned the featureless black dreamscape. "Is there a way out?"
"You are a kender, Bantam. There is ALWAYS a way out."
"Hmm." Bantam tried to begin to walk, but walking on the black nothing wasn't
as easy as standing on it. She wobbled and fell and spun round and round in
the air -- if there was air there, anyway. Down became up and up became
sideways. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to grab for support. "But
I can't walk!" she protested. "I keep falling every which way! I'm not quick
on my feet like a pure kender!"
"But you have other strengths that a pure kender could only dream about."
"I guess, but how can I get anywhere if I can't even keep my balance?"
Balance. The word repeated itself in Bantam's head. As a worshipper of
Chislev, she knew that Balance was the only way to peace -- both inner peace
and peace on Krynn. Balance was the way. "Balance. There must be balance,"
she said to herself.
(cont'd)
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Soldai, the Month of Argon, 21 22:27:05 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject The scale and the stones (2 of 2)
Even as the thought occurred to her, a massive scale materialized before her,
and the air filled with thousands of pebbles of different sizes, floating,
suspended. "Oh, so this is the game!" she said delightedly. "Make it
balance!" She plucked a couple of good-sized pebbles from the air with one
hand and grabbed the base of the scale with the other, pulling herself through
the nothing, and stood up before the massive instrument. She placed one in
each side.
To her dismay, the basket on the right side of the scale filled itself with
a small mound of pebbles, and the left side rose into the air. She gathered
a few more to even it out, and clambered up to the left basket, which was
now well over her head. But then the pebbles multiplied again, and now the
left side plummeted. "Hey, stop that!" she pleaded.
She kept plucking more and more pebbles from the air, but every time she
tried to balance the scale, pebbles appeared of their own accord and threw
everything off kilter. "This is so frustrating!" She glowered at the pebbles.
"There's got to be a way to make you guys behave. Hmm...maybe if I take
them from the baskets instead of from the air..."
And so she tried to take a handful of rocks from the heavier basket, but as
soon as she touched them, an equal number rose into the air from the lighter
one -- and when she transferred them, the floating rocks zoomed through the
air and settled in the basket she had just taken from. "Hmph! Well, I guess
you're not going to fall for that..."
She tried distributing the rocks in every possible way: throwing them in from
a distance, tossing them into both baskets at the same time, emptying them
completely and starting over -- but it was no use. The same thing kept
happening, no matter how she arranged things.
Finally, in desperation, she climbed into the lighter basket herself.
The basket fell to the ground...then bounced back up again! Then down a
shorter distance...and then back up...down...up...until it came to rest,
exactly level with the other basket. She had done it! She had actually
done it! "HA!" she cheered, triumphant at last over the misbehaving stones.
"And now you see," Chislev said sorrowfully, "what it is like for me." With
that, an arch made of white light, surrounded by vines, rose out of the
darkness before Bantam. "Go, little one. Hurry!"
Bantam leapt from the basket and dashed, with ease and grace, now, through
the blackness and into the archway.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Manthus, the Month of Argon, 22 21:16:24 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Back from the black
And then something jerked her roughly by the arm and pulled her the rest of
the way through the the door. She felt someone throwing her body over her
shoulder like a sack of flour. And then she began to see light, and feel the
delicious, cold cave air fill her nostrils. She shook her whole body as
if to scatter the black cloud, and blinked her bleary eyes. Ganathali's
soft leather shoes came into focus. "Oh, Ganathali!" she exalted. "You
saved me! Gosh, I had the funniest dream..."
The elf crouched and dropped her unceremoniously. She stood up and then
let the hacking coughs take over, her lungs feeling like they'd been
beaten inside and out by a wheat thresher.
"There's no time for thanks," he said, "and DEFINITELY no time to tell
me about your dream. Great Gods, you're clumsy! You could have just
DIED in there! Lucky for you you're so loud it's impossible not to notice
when you're missing."
"No time for thanks, but time for insults?" Bantam said incredulously.
"Well, I think YOU are the worst excuse for an elf --"
"No, no, shut up! There really isn't time. We've got to block the
exits. What IS that thing?"
"Oh, that's the human woman," Bantam said. "I guess you were right about
her!"
Janna dashed into the room. "Run for it," she said.
"What? No, I want to fight!"
"RUN." As if to punctuate Janna's command, a massive fireball exploded
against the wall mere yards away from them, and they dove for the ground.
Fragments of quartz rained down on their heads and they could feel the
magical flame's intense heat against their skin. "It has VERY strong
magical power, Bantam. Your defensive benedictions are improving, but I
wouldn't bet your life on them."
"Understood!"
"I'll hold it off. Get moving!" Janna knelt and prayed fervently,
conjuring a milky shield before them. Ganathali grabbed Bantam's arm and
they sped off down the one corridor they had access to, panic nipping at
their heels.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Luindai, the Month of Argon, 26 18:43:28 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Escape?
The sounds of battle grew fainter behind them as they trotted down the
long tunnel. "This is a way out," Ganathali said breathlessly. "I
remember this hallway."
"Oh, I hope Janna will be okay!" Bantam fretted with tears in her eyes.
"I can't believe we're just going to leave her! She's just an old lady!"
"Well, she's one old lady I know I wouldn't want to have to fight. Come
on!"
Their flight ended abruptly, though, when they were barred by a massive,
circular wooden door over the tunnel's mouth. "Oh, no! They've sealed
all the exits!"
Ganathali grabbed the door handle and throttled it. "Locked!" he said.
"Okay, Bantam, pick the lock! Go on now, hurry!"
"But Ganathali..." Bantam said haltingly.
"There's no shame in it. Come on, are you a kender, or aren't you?"
"Well -- you do remember that I'm one quarter human..."
"So? What of it?"
Bantam stared at Ganathali's hopeful, coaxing face for a second and then
couldn't help herself -- she burst into sobs. "Oh, Ganathali, I can't!
I've never picked a lock in my life, except for really easy ones they
give babies to play with, and that's with a full set of tools! I just
don't understand how to do it! I can't!"
"Oh, brilliant," the elf muttered. "It stands to reason. The one time
in my life I'm stuck at a dead end with a kender, and I get the kender
that CAN'T PICK A LOCK!"
"I'm sorry!" she wailed.
"Crying won't help! We've got to think of a different way -- oh, no..."
The lizard creature was now approaching them, its claws clicking on the
stone floor, and the laugh that escaped its lungs as it beheld the trapped
pair contained only a twisted parody of mirth.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Nuindai, the Month of Argon, 27 18:55:45 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Facing, and Taunting, One's Demons
Bantam's tears cleared up startlingly quickly. "You!" she said, taking a
step toward the lizard man and pointing an accusing finger at its beastly
snout. "How COULD you? I thought you were my friend, you lying sneak!
I let you hold onto my arm when we were in the dark! How dare you
pretend to be something you're not!"
The lizard-man hissed and showed its many teeth. "Out of my way, pest,
before I kill you and the elf," it said.
"I WON'T MOVE!" Bantam shouted, stamping her foot.
"Bantam, this is not the time!" Ganathali quavered. "Just let it go!"
"NO! You, sir or madam, are an ugly, ill-tempered crocodile and you
should go back to whatever mudhole you crawled out of and stay there until
you run out of filth and slime to eat, and shrivel up just like you were
a...a green raisin!"
The creature sneered. "Do you think everyone can be flustered by your
childish insults, kender? Your race is a pestilence, and now I will do
my part to exterminate it." He drew a wicked, foot-long jagged
knife from the sheath that hung on his hip. Bantam backed away, her back
pressed against the wooden door.
Then, all at once, thick vines burst from the floor, crumbling the stone
as if it were gingerbread, and shot up to wrap around the creature's
wrists and ankles. It screamed its frustration as it struggled against
its bonds, and bit and tore at them with its teeth.
"Brilliant! Janna's saved us again!" Ganathali rejoiced. "Where is she?
Bantam?"
When Ganathali looked down, Bantam was slumped limply against the door,
a dazed expression on her face. "That wasn't Janna,{s" she said.
"That was YOU?"
"That was Chislev," Bantam murmured. "Turns out she CAN hear me! And you
wouldn't believe how angry she is about this thing in her temple!"
"Listen! The guards are coming!" Ganathali whispered.
"Ha!" Bantam glared into the reptilian face from the floor. "They'll run
you through with their spears, lizard, and you'll be history!"
The lizard man chuckled deep in its throat. "If only you knew how wrong
you were," it said. "I am sorry I won't have the pleasure of showing you
today." And then it vanished. The vines fell uselessly to the floor.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Soldai, the Month of Argon, 28 21:13:53 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Picking up the pieces
Janna arrived, flanked by four tattooed Kagonesti Wildrunners armed with
spears and daggers, and stared in disbelief at the spot where the
creature had been.
"We had it," Bantam explained sheepishly. "But now we don't."
"Teleportation!" Janna shook her head and walked in a circle around the
spot where the creature had been. "My, my, my. We are dealing with
powerful forces here. Nice work on that entanglement spell, though, Bantam.
I do believe I underestimated you."
"What was it, Janna?" Bantam stood up. The stress of the battle behind
her, she began to suck at her bloody, stinging left palm.
"A spy, apparently," sighed Janna. "But as far as answering the question
you're really asking...I've never seen any creature like that on Krynn
before." The old priestess frowned. "Oh, I've read about a race of
'lizard-men' that existed on Taladas long before the Cataclysm...some of
them worshippers of Chislev, in fact. But they haven't been seen for thousands
of years. Well, not by any...reliable sources, anyway. And the
illustrations of the Bakali, ancient though they are, don't look a bit like
that thing that visited us."
"It was awful," Bantam shuddered. "Its voice gave me the chills!"
"It was evil," agreed Janna. "And now it's out there somewhere. If
it really is after something here in the temple -- or if it just wants
revenge -- it may be back. With friends."
"No wonder it was so easy to escape," Bantam moaned. "It was planning to
escape with us the whole time! That hobgoblin and his crew might not have
even known who was the real brain of the operation!"
"Wait a minute," Ganathali said. "How could it be looking for something
here? It couldn't have planned this. It was thrown in the cage with me.
Bantam showing up was -- well -- a bonus, but it had to have been an
accident. I'll bet it was trying to follow ME somewhere. Well, if it
wanted to infiltrate Qualinost, it would have been disappointed. I'm not
going back there."
"We were just outside Solace," Bantam said. "They were talking about
getting access to Solace, remember? Maybe we were supposed to flee to
Solace! YOU were, anyway. And when I came along...she just had to
improvise!"
"Bantam, you might just have it." Janna's expression was sorrowful.
"And if you're right, I don't like it at all. The idea of one of those
running around Solace is just terrible. My hometown, you know...but if
they were to come back and get into the temple, it'd be disastrous."
"Why would it be? What could they do?"
"Come with me, Bantam. I'll show you something."
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Manthus, the Month of Argon, 29 21:24:37 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Chislev's Riches (1/2)
"This is the Life Node."
They had retreated into the dark recesses of the temple, past the healing
chambers, where druids tended a wounded stag, a family of lost and starving
human refugees from the south, and a half-feral gully dwarf who'd lost a thumb
and a couple of fingers to a "snappy turkle" in Crystalmir Lake. Past the
convalescents they had gone, behind a curtain of swaying vines, and into a
tunnel which led them into a small, round room, where a column of crystal grew
from the floor like an ancient tree trunk.
The strange feeling that Bantam had noticed upon first entering the temple, the
curious rhythmic pulsing of the air around her, was magnified tenfold in this
room. The blood in her body seemed to grab hold of the rhythm like iron
filings placed near a magnet, and synchronized with it. She could hear her
blood pounding in her ears like a steady drumbeat.
"Oohh, I feel funny!" Bantam massaged her head.
Janna grinned. "Takes some getting used to, I'll admit."
"What is it?"
"You can think of it as Chislev's heart," Janna said, "though she has a few
more of them than we do. This is one of them."
"Hey!" Bantam held up her hands. The skin of her palms was now soft and
unbroken. "Look at my hands! I skinned them on the wall earlier, when we were
running down the hall -- that quartz is really sharp, Janna, it's kind of
dangerous, you know, it's like having a house made of broken glass -- but now
they're better!"
"Yes. Simply being near the Life Node will cure almost anything that ails
you."
"Well, why do we need to be here, then? Why not just heal everyone with this?"
"Because Chislev's power can't last forever. Think of your own heart. You
could have run from that lizard thing for a pretty long time -- if you didn't
keep falling, that is -- but not forever. Your body needs time to rest,
breathe, make more blood, and keep everything running smoothly. Krynn is the
same."
"I'm confused -- aren't we just using Chislev's power when we cast spells?"
"Yes, but we're helping Her out with some of our own strength, too. Don't you
feel tired after you pray?"
"Yes -- in fact, I fainted the first time. Did I tell you about that? When I
healed the cat? I was in Caergoth, when --"
"You told me." Janna smiled. "All of Chislev's clerics and druids give Her a
little of their own power, a little of their own life force. That doesn't tax
Her. But this...it is Her life force. It is Krynn's life force. There is
enormous power in this thing. But in the wrong hands..."
"It could all get used up!" Bantam exclaimed. "And then...would Chislev..."
She gulped. "...Die?"
(cont'd)
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Manthus, the Month of Argon, 29 21:26:06 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Chislev's Riches (2/2)
"Not die. She is a goddess. But she would not be able to help us here on
Krynn for a long time. Nature itself would be weakened. It could lead to
disaster. So we must protect the Life Node, and use it only in a case of
severe emergency."
"Gosh! It's more serious than I thought!" Bantam paced furiously back and
forth before the column. "There's lots of those things out there, Janna, I
know it! What if they found it and didn't know what it was? Or didn't CARE?
What if they overpowered us? What if they bring a whole army in here?"
"We will fight them if they come," Janna said, "but there are ways to hide this
place."
"How?"
"We evacuate it, and together, we place a very strong blessing over it to
conceal the entrance. We would still be able to find it, of course, since we
know where it is. But the spell would be broken if anyone went in or came out.
So we evacuate, and watch, and wait until we have more information about them."
"They couldn't find it by accident?"
"It would be like stumbling upon a particular grain of sand you were looking
for on the bed of Crystalmir."
"Then we'll have to do it." Bantam's face fell. "But then where will I study?"
"Out in the world, Bantam!" Janna said, spreading her arms wide. "All Krynn is
Chislev's temple! I know you're not ALL kender, and my pockets thank you for
it, but you do still have Wanderlust, don't you?"
"Oh, yes," Bantam sighed, smiling beatifically at the mere sound of the word.
"Then we can't keep you cooped up here for too long, anyway. Your power's
growing. Go out! Practice! Pray! And find out who released that unholy
beast into our temple! But don't get yourself killed just yet. We might need
you."
"Okay, Janna!" She grinned more enormously than she had for months, and began
to follow the high priestess away from the pounding, pulsating column.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Shinarai, the Month of Argon, 30 21:13:17 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject A Job for a Kender
As they wove through the many tunnels leading back out into the open, a grain
of an idea, like a snowball rolling down a hill, began to bounce about and
collect bits of thought inside of Bantam's head. "Janna, you said there was
more than one Life Node..."
"Yep. All our pre-Cataclysm records seem to indicate it, anyway."
"Who's going to protect them?"
"Well, Bantam, you know how the Cataclysm jostled everything around, putting a
new sea here and moving a mountain there..." Janna stopped to pick up and dust
off the weathered skull of a stag, which had fallen from its dwelling in an
alcove on the wall during the battle with the lizard man. "...Fact is, the
other Life Nodes just got lost in the shuffle. The one in our temple seems to
be the only one that stayed put well enough for people to keep track of it."
"Oh..." Bantam frowned. "How many are there?"
"That..." Janna laughed sheepishly. "That, we don't know either. The
Cataclysm could have destroyed some of them. On the other hand, it might have
just buried them somewhere we haven't found yet. Pre-Cataclysm, there were
eight that we knew about." Janna looked down at Bantam and recognized the
keenness in her face, the touch of adrenaline obvious in the way she was
moving, and gave her a conspiratorial smile. "I think you're planning on going
and looking for them, Bantam!"
"What if I am?" Bantam began to walk about in a circle, the words tumbling
out of her mouth at a gnomish speed. "I mean, what if someone else finds them
before we do? What if the enemy knows about them? They're just sitting out
there somewhere, waiting to be found, and we don't know where they are! Why am
I the only one who's worried about this?!"
"Most people would tell you it's a fool's errand. They've been considered lost
for centuries, and no one goes looking for them anymore except for mad
adventurers who have read too many storybooks about dragons."
"What would you tell me?"
"I don't think it's a fool's errand. I think it's a job for a kender."
"Terrific!" Bantam shouted with a clap of her hands, making a passing priest
jump. "Where should I start?"
"I have some dusty old books of lore and some rotten old maps you can take a
look at in my library. They're very special, so you'll need to copy them out
tonight before we seal off the place."
Bantam was so excited she could barely speak. There were just so many things
she wanted to talk about that they all tried to come out at once, and stopped
up the exit. Studying and praying and learning were fine for a while, but here
was a REAL adventure worthy of her wanderlust! Here was a way she could serve
Chislev AND fulfill her irrepressible urge for travel and adventure.
She would rediscover the Life Nodes, and she would see to it that they were
protected!
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Nuindai, the Month of Sirrimont, 3 20:14:33 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Traveling song
Chislev's temple was sealed and its entrance concealed by divine power. The
clerics that normally dwelt within it dispersed into the surrounding woods,
where they really felt the most at home anyway. Janna, a few senior paladins,
and a band of Wildrunner scouts spread out within a mile's radius of the
temple to keep an eye on anyone who might return to the scene of the crime.
Others went further away, to investigate the rumors of war that had been
drifting in over the past year on the lips of refugees and travelers from
across the continent.
Bantam and Ganathali best fit into this latter category. Bantam was singing a
traveling song and clearing a path in her typical bumbling, twig-snapping way
while Ganathali followed silently, wondering how long it would take for her
high, piping voice to fray his nerves.
"And so that chapter's ending,
And we turn the next page over.
(The fields are all in clover
And the winter's far away.)
The story's just beginning,
But the writer's head is spinning.
Which paths lead to tomorrow?
Which lead back to yesterday?
Along the trail we're wending,
With time left still to borrow.
And now that chapter's ending,
Which paths lead to tomorrow?
The book's spread wide before me
And it has so many pages!
(The snow-fed river rages,
And the fawns are in the grass.)
I can't read very quickly,
And the pages fall so thickly.
That's all right, I have no worries,
For I've so much time to pass.
Fool knights and thieves, ignore me!
Pity be on he who hurries!
See, the book's spread wide before me,
It's all right, I have no worries.
Yes, the time will come to end it,
And look back upon our reading
(All the butterflies are feeding,
And the blooms perfume the air.)
But for now, I'll just keep going,
Though there's no good way of knowing
If my tale will end in glory
Or the scribe will treat me fair.
Oh Chislev please forfend it,
For I'd hate to leave this story,
But the time will come to end it,
So please let it end in glory."
"Nice," Ganathali nodded approvingly at the conclusion of the song. "Did you
just write that?"
"Last night," Bantam said. "After the temple scribes and I got done copying
out all I wanted from the library."
Ganathali raised his eyebrows. "Did you sleep at ALL last night?"
"No! I was much too excited!"
"Oh, boy..."
The elf was starting to wonder what he had gotten himself into.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Luindai, the Month of Sirrimont, 9 21:21:50 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject how
"So where are you going to look for these Node things?"
"Well..." Bantam frowned thoughtfully as she pored over her book of notes. "I
still have to look through all this stuff I wrote down. It's a lot to take in.
But the most promising thing I found is that according to the legend, the
Life Nodes corresponded to the elements. That one in the cave, obviously, is
Earth."
"Huh. So we'll be looking for air, water, fire, that sort of thing? That's a
lot of help," Ganathali snorted. "We just have to look for someplace on Krynn
where there's air..."
"Don't be such a pessimist, Ganathali! I never said we'd find all of them
tomorrow!"
"You kender certainly love your wild goose chases."
Bantam held her head high. "If you don't want to go with me, you can go away,"
she said.
"SOMEONE'S got to keep you from dying. How many kender survive Wanderlust,
anyway?"
"I have no idea. Most of them, I expect. No one's ever taken a survey. Hmm,
that'd be an interesting project..."
"Don't get distracted from the Life Nodes, now."
"Right."
They wandered along through the woods in silence a while, until Ganathali
asked, "So where are we going first?"
"Solace. I'm dying for a plate of spicy potatoes."
"Oh, yeah, of course. Can't go adventuring on an empty stomach."
Bantam cocked her head. "Ganathali, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Why don't you talk like an elf?"
Ganathali looked at Bantam for a moment, considering the question. "I don't
quite know what you mean," he said finally.
"I just mean you don't talk all PROPER all the time. Elves seem like they're
always so serious. I don't feel like I can joke with them. But you're not
like that."
Ganathali thought this over, then shrugged. "Guess I've spent more time around
humans than most of them, that's all. I haven't lived in Qualinesti for
years. We're not going to get into why. Just haven't, that's all."
"Where did you live before you got captured?"
"Outside Solace."
"Does your family live there?"
"No."
"Where do they live?"
"Qualinost. You know, we play a fun game back in Qualinost. All you have to
do is see how long you can keep quiet."
Bantam gave the elf a withering glance. "That's NOT a real game. They've
tried that on me before. But I get the message."
"Getting the message. I guess that's the difference between a full kender and
a mixed-breed," Ganathali said, grinning.
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Soldai, the Month of Sirrimont, 11 21:02:27 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Ganathali's Exile (1 of 2)
It was on their way to Solace that Bantam and Ganathali ran into an elven
hunting party traveling in the opposite direction. A pair of haughty
Qualinesti sat atop russet-colored horses, and four or five others walked
in front of them, carrying long, elegant bows. They were beautifully dressed
in forest greens and browns and carried themselves with a grace Bantam rarely
saw, even in the temple. Behind them, Bantam could see three bedraggled and
drably dressed servants carrying large packs on their backs. They were elves,
too -- but Kagonesti, not Qualinesti. Bantam felt an immediate surge of
sympathy for them. Why were they being treated that way? she wondered.
Kalthana was a Kagonesti, and she was a priestess! These three looked like
they'd been denied something of their humanity -- well, their elfhood, anyway.
It didn't seem right, and she stared at them with pity and confusion.
Ganathali's attention, however, was focused on the Qualinesti elves, and theirs
upon him. Drawing her eyes away from the Kagonesti servants, Bantam could
tell as soon as she looked at Ganathali and the strangers that they knew
each other.
"Well," said one of the mounted hunters after an uncomfortable silence.
"Ganathali Thornpath, alive and well. And traveling with a kender. How
appropriate."
"Appropriate?" Bantam looked at Ganathali, then back at the mounted elf.
"What does that mean? Why is it appropriate?"
"Arunassus." Ganathali bowed before the speaker, but without taking his eyes
off him. "Please let me be. I do not wish to trouble anybody."
"Your word means nothing to me. Thief!"
"Hey!" Bantam stepped in front of Ganathali, glowering at the elves. "Don't
call him a thief! He's not a thief! And he's been through a lot more than you
tenderfooted, finicky housecats have!"
"Shut it, Bantam," Ganathali hissed. "Let's just leave, all right?"
The elves were staring at Bantam now with sour distaste in their faces, their
eyebrows gently arched. "And who are you, anyway?" said the leader.
"Bantam Catsbetter, Friend of the Small, devout of Chislev, herbalist, future
discoverer of the seven lost -- oh, well, actually, that's a secret. Forget I
said I was the future discoverer of anything, OK? Just Bantam Catsbetter."
The leader laughed. "A sticky-fingered elf traveling with a kender devoted to
Chislev! Well, you've gotten your roles mixed up, but I suppose you make a
good team."
"What are you saying? Kender DON'T STEAL!" Bantam gasped with outright
indignation.
"Of course they don't," he said with a derisive snort. "We've no time to
debate the subject anyway. Please, move aside."
Before Bantam could taunt them again, Ganathali slapped one hand over her
mouth and the other over her shoulder, and pulled her aside so that the hunting
party could pass. He waited until they were a good distance away to release
her.
"Well!" Bantam burst out as soon as the hand was removed from her mouth. "What
a bunch of high-minded nincompoops!" She cupped her hands around her mouth and
shouted after them. "I'M NOT EVEN A PURE KENDER! I'M A MIXED-BREED! A
MONGREL! WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THAT?!"
"BANTAM!" Ganathali said firmly, hiding a smile. "Leave them alone, all right?
If we run into anyone else who knows me, let's just get away from them as
soon as possible. No heroic causes, okay?"
"But they were being just plain mean! And I can't tolerate meanness! And why
did they call you a thief, anyway? And why did they have those Kagonesti elves
carrying all their things? They looked so sad..."
He frowned, hesitated, looking like a parent who had just been asked about the
facts of life. "Well...the Kagonesti are slaves in some elven cities, Bantam.
There's this notion of 'civilizing the savages'. I never agreed with it
myself," he added defensively.
(cont'd)
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Soldai, the Month of Sirrimont, 11 21:06:00 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Ganathali's Exile (2 of 2)
"What?! That's terrible! You mean they'd make someone like Kalthana a slave?
She's not a savage!"
"I wouldn't ask her about it, but she probably WAS a slave once. She's a
little more -- well, like me...than the untouched Kagonesti are. You know,
like the warriors in your temple. Covered in tattoos. Pierced everything.
Living in the wilds. Some of the Qualinesti and the Silvanesti think they're
doing them a favor taking them in and cleaning them up."
Bantam fell silent, shaking her head. There was so much wrong with the world,
and she was so small, so powerless to change it. She looked over her shoulder
as they walked on, trying to get one last glimpse of the Kagonesti's dejected
forms in the distance, but they had already gone.
She almost forgot that she had asked Ganathali another question before she
asked about the wild elves. "Hey!" she exclaimed. "So why did they call you
a thief?"
Ganathali groaned like a sullen youth. "Oh, Bantam. It's a long story."
"I like long stories," she said stubbornly.
"Well." He collected his thoughts for a moment. "It was more than a hundred
years ago. I was still young..."
"A HUNDRED YEARS!"
"We live for centuries, Bantam..."
"I know that but it still sounds funny to me."
"I'm not going to tell this story if you keep interrupting!"
Bantam put her own hands over her mouth.
"All right, then. I'll be honest, I wasn't a very good child. Didn't get
along with my family. They seemed unsympathetic to anyone on the outside.
Mean, even, like you said. That was my uncle you just insulted, by the way."
"Your UNCLE talked to you like -- sorry. Go on."
"There was a family in town with a half-elf daughter. Human father. My family
despised her. She was my age - physically, anyway, although she was actually
much younger. I started to spend time with her. I liked her, and it also made
my parents furious. She had a lot of anger inside her, too, since most of the
community didn't even like to acknowledge her existence. We started causing
trouble. Innocent pranks, really. She had quite a sense of humor. We'd sneak
under some old bag's window in the middle of the night and make noise -- roar
like ogres or light off firecrackers we'd bought off gnomes in Solace. Move
things around in people's gardens, turn signs upside down. Just stupid things.
Sometimes we'd sneak out of the city and buy rum and mead from the nearest
merchants we could find, and drink too much together."
"Oh! That sounds awfully romantic!"
"Well." Ganathali grinned. "Yes, it was, for a while. But gradually I
started noticing that some of my things were going missing. And then my
parents were missing things, too."
"Uh oh..."
"I confronted her about it and she confessed that she took them. She said that
she just liked to take things
them and confess, but she didn't want to get in trouble, especially when
everyone despised her already." Ganathali sighed with regret. "She was just
troubled. It wasn't her fault. Everybody hated her, suspected her. You know,
people tend to conform to your expectations of them. Everyone thought she was
weak, inferior, degenerate. So that's what she turned into."
"So what happened?"
"Well, of course she was accused eventually. And I was worried they'd imprison
her, or at the least exile her. And she had nowhere to go. She wasn't
educated, she wasn't skilled. And I was young and stupid and in love, so I
confessed. I said that I was the one who took all those things. And I was
exiled. I've been living among humans ever since. I don't know what happened
to her because I never saw her again. She's probably getting older now.
(I lied, cont'd again)
Dragonlance Author: Bantam
Date: Soldai, the Month of Sirrimont, 11 21:07:33 354 Post Cataclysm
Subject Ganathali's Exile (3 of 3 :P)
Half-elves don't live as long. I wonder about her a lot. I often think it
would have been better for her to leave...but there's no telling what would
have happened to her on the outside." Ganathali looked up, distracted from his
reverie by a tiny whimpering sound. "Bantam! Are you crying?"
"Oh, Ganathali..." The kender's lower-lip quivered, and she gave Ganathali a
tight hug around the middle, sobbing openly. "What...a...a b-beautiful story!"
"Hey, let go of me!" The elf was still quite unused to kender and their
unabashed emotional expression. Like children, they could go from hysterical
convulsions of laughter to agonized weeping in a minute. He imagined their
political ceremonies and wondered how their society managed to function.
"Sorry." Bantam withdrew from Ganathali, and awkwardly brushed at the moist
patch on his clothing with her hand.
"Anyway, THAT'S why I'm not going back to Qualinost," Ganathali concluded.
"Thanks for explaining. I was curious. Maybe someday we can find your friend
again. Maybe we could go to Qualinost and see if shes still there."
"That's a terrible idea," Ganathali said. "But I can't say I wouldn't go with
you."
And then they walked together in silence until the wooden rooftops of Solace
became visible over the trees in the distance.
The Storytellers of Ansalon, The DragonLance MUDAstinus points to the massive wall of books behind him
and bids you to make a selection.
Authors: All|A|B|C|D|E|F|G|H|I|J|K|L|M|N|O|P|Q|R|S|T|U|V|W|X|Y|Z
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from before the great Cataclysm through today.'
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