The Great Library of Palanthas
Astinus' Office
Dominating the center of this room is a massive birch desk. Legend claims this desk has supported the thousands of volumes of history Astinus has recorded. A large pot of ink, a container of sharpened quills, and a candelabra complete the desks decorations. Small windows line the room, allowing light to trickle in and gently illuminate the entire room. A comfortable couch rests against the west wall. Tapestries hang on the walls between the windows. Shelves line the walls, filled with tomes of the more recent records of heroes and villians upon the face of Krynn.
The librarian notices you aren't reading anything... Astinus hands a brief catalogue to an Aesthetic standing by you. You note the spine bears the word 'Ardor' scribed in unearthly brown ink. As you glance down at the page you read..
From the pages of Ardor's book..
Author: Ardor Date: Fri Jan 20 00:59:52 2017 Subject A Night of Neutrality
Ardor sat at a desk in the lower parts of the red robes dormatory within the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth. Quill in hand and a newly bound book on the desk, he began to write. Various notes flooded onto the pages quickly. Experiences in the Conclave, conversations with each of the orders within the tower, taking care to record their conversations with accuracy. He dipped his quill again and kept writing, slowing briefly for a slowly forming cramp in his hand, which after a moment subsided and the speed picked up. More notes and diagrams of magic formations and formulas he had learned flooded the pages now. He was trying to remember all the details from the last few days, finally getting time to sit and write down his thoughts, but they were starting to leave him. He stopped writing and breathed a deep sign. The memories were all but gone now. He glanced down at the pages, content with the notes he had recorded but aggrivated more by the notes that he was not able to record. Part of the price he paid for his magic. He closed the book revealing a black bound cover with silver runes etched into it. The most noteable rune was the number "1" etched at the bottom of the symbols, possibly indicating the first book in a soon-to-be written series. Ardor shifted in his seat. The poorly made chair that outfitted his own personal room within the tower had started to put a strain on his muscles. Standing up, he stretched his arms out, his red robes shifting around slightly. The robes had been given to him to replace his older robes after joining the order. Representing neutrality within the realms, the red robes were a deep red, almost that of a blood hue. His hair fluffed as a breeze blew through the room from the open window. He looked around quietly as he began to collect his thoughts. After taking a moment, he went to his bed, the one piece of furniture in the room that wasn't of poor craftsmenship, or if it had been, it was fitted with comfortable bedding at least. He pulled a small black book out of a hidden pocket within his robes. It was etched with silver and red runes that had a faint glow to them. Opening the book, he began to study the words within and he settled down for the night. The next few hours before bed were to be spent memorizing the precise words and inflections needed to create the magic and powers he had come to the Conclave to master.
The city of Garnet was bustling with people. To and fro they moved about buying good for the day, gossiping about the local situations, and just going about daily life. It was an average day, sun shown in the sky with a few clouds, on occasion blocking the rays and cooling the air briefly. Ardor was casually taking a walk throught he town, on an errand for some spell components and various other magic odds and ends. Clutching his staff and using it as a walking stick, he walked slowly down the merchants concourse, peering into the shop's windows hoping to catch a glimpse of some rare odds and ends that might pique his interest. To his dismay, today was just like it seemed, a very normal day. He sighed and continued walking. After what seemed like only a few moments, Ardor glanced up, realizing he was lost in his thoughts. He looked around briefly and realized he had no idea where he was. The roads in this part of town were unfamiliar and even the residents had started to thin out. It was about mid day and the clouds rolled over the sun, blocking the light. As the shadows began to form around the buildings, Ardor peered into them thinking something wasn't right. "Oculoinfra Zzur", he whispered as he reached into a pouch pulling some dust out and sprinkled it in the air. The spell came to him quickly and without hesitation having devoted time to the memorization. The dust picked up by the wind and blew around revealing a faint red glow in the shadow. There was someone there! Hoping that the soon-to-be ambusher wouldn't recognize or notice his casting, Ardor moved his hand slowly to his pouches searching for the right component. As his fingers found what they were looking for, he palmed it carefully trying not to make any noticeable movement. The glow shifted slightly. Ardor smiled, realizing his attacker hadn't noticed the spell or that Ardor knew he was there. The thief struck quickly. He snuck up behind Ardor thinking he had the edge. He raised his dagger towards his target back and then heard a slight whisper from the mage. Unfortunately, he caught the end of the spell too late. He had been noticed! Ardor whispered quickly as the thief snuck in. The move was swift and he was grateful he took care to utilize the spell a fellow mage of the Conclave had told him about. The sulfur was released quickly and his hand that was tucked between his arm aimed at the thief as the spell went off. The bolt of lightning rang out so loud and fast. The thief writhed in agony having been shocked and sent flying across the road. As the thief hit the ground, the bolt arced and struck the thief again. Unfortunately, the thief was unable to scream out a second time. The bolt had taken the last of the victims lifeforce from him, leaving a corpse in its place. Ardor turned to face the attacker, breathing heavily. The magic had taken its toll on him and he realized quickly that the spell was slightly more than he was prepared for. He reached down slowly and picked up his staff, holding himself up with it now as his energy continued to drain quickly. He bowed his head slightly, trying to regain control of his breathing. After a few seconds, his breath had become more regular. His hair, having fallen around his face, hid his features. A small smile could barely be seen from beneath it.
Solinari and Lunitari were in high sanction creating a beautiful silhoutte of the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth. The sky was free of clouds and the stars were visible in the night sky. The wind stirred on occasion and created a chill in the air. Ardor was pacing in his room within the tower on this night. He was moving around slowly with his spellbook in hand. The silver and red etchings shimmered in the light coming from the window. Since joining the Conclave, Ardor had come to understand more about magic and had been taught about some very interesting spells. The amount he had been discovering and his own ventures into the arts had made him yearn for more. But tonight was not a night of successes. Several books Ardor had been given to learn from had been beyond his comprehension. He struggled with the proper inflections and memorizing them seemed next to impossible. The advanced teachings held within the bindings were out of his grasp. The frustration had set in him so much, he now studied his own spellbook to relax. A breeze caught his face, calming his nerves. "It is only a minor set back." he told himself. It was only a matter of time before the knowledge in the tomes would be his and he could move on to more advance teachings. Magic had always been in him, but time was always needed to master new spells. His patience would have to be strong. Grinning slightly, he closed his spellbook, pocketed it into a hidden pocket in his robes and headed for the door.
Walking the halls of the tower always helped take his mind off his work. Every day was a new adventure in the halls. There seemed to be a slight incline in new faces and always new hallways and rooms to discover. Ardor always knew his limits on areas he could and couldn't explore, but testing his boundries was always enjoyable to him. Heading down the hallway just before the library, he paused momentarily. There was some familiar whispers of incantations and casting coming from behind a door nearby. Thinking back to his brief walkthrough of the tower, he remembered a room where mages could practice their arts through the use of a magical contraption. Being able to take the strength of any spells, absorb it, and not be damaged, it was a great way for mages to work new magics and help them gain control of new spells and even strengthen old ones. Ardor shook his head briefly, realizing he was now being stared at by three mages in white. All three were giving him an odd look, wondering what realm he had disappeared to. Even h had lost track of time. Ardor acknowledged all the mages with a slight nod which was returned by the mages who still looked a little puzzled. They exchanged small talk for a few seconds and then they were on their way. One of the mages looked back at Ardor once, briefly, then hurried along to catch up to the other two who were now talking about different spell components again.
Ardor, a bit annoyed by his own mental wanderlust, proceeded into the room the mages came from. He hadn't really spent time here since he'd come to stay at the tower. Pushing the door open slowly, he peered inside to find an empty room. Pushing the door open fully, he looked around. The room was spacious. A giant balcony was off to the side letting the elements into the room. There was a small pool of water to the side as well. None of this was odd compared to the one thing missing from the room, the device that mages practiced on. Ardor walked into the room and stood there in dismay. How did mages practice in here? Using magic on other mages was strictly forbidden in the tower. Differences were set aside while mages remained in the tower so all grudges were left at the door. Sighing, he turned to the door to notice it had been shut! He hadn't even heard it move slightly after he entered, so when did it happen? Turning back around, Ardor was startled to find the room was no longer empty. In the center stood a man. Well, it appeared to be a man. He was a ghostly figure. His skin was pale white with blonde hair. He did not appear sickly for how pale he was, and for a minute Ardor wondered if he belonged to this plane. Then something struck him. The man was transparent! Ardor saw the balcony through the man. Trying to think quickly, Ardor's thoughts were answered as the man spoke. "You are correct, apprentice mage. I am not alive. Nor am I dead. I am a construct here to serve the tower." "You must be the 'device' they spoke of," Ardor spoke, hesitantly. "I am such." The man nodded his head slightly. "I feel no pain nor do I feel remorse. I am here simply as a vessel to absorb that which you send at me to practice your sorcery. Young mages like yourself come here often to help develop and work on their spells." Ardor stared at the device briefly then realized the opportunity he had. A "device" that could not be destroyed. A way to master spells that have been plaguing him. An opportunity to really "play" with magic, something he'd had very little time or ability to do. He could not pass this up.
This must be tested, he thought. Without considering the device, he grabbed a pebble from his pouch and uttered words of magic while the pebble turned pink and headed straight for the device with intense momentum. It hit! The magic missile connect in the arm of the device. The damage was done and then immediately, as if nothing had happened, the device repaired itself. Ardor's mind exploded with glee. Spell after spell he launched, each one hitting and doing damage, and then just as quickly as the damage was done the device repaired itself. It was only a matter of moments before Ardor realized that he had released all the spells he had memorized at the time. He was panting heavily now. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. He was bent over on the floor, having been weakened by the casting. The cost of the stream of magic was immense. He realized quickly that the excitement had gotten the best of him. Coughing violently, he looked down to see a small bit of blood on the floor. The strain put on by the spells was a little more than he was accustomed to and it had taken its toll on his body. He slumped to the ground, his muscles finally giving out from trying to hold him up. He was still conscious, barely. Knowing he'd need some time to rest, he laid on the floor, panting, letting his body relax. His body was wracked in pain and the sweat was starting to roll into his eyes, stinging them slightly. He closed his eyes trying to relax further. He started to cry, only it wasn't really crying. It took him a few moments to realize that the noise coming from his was actually laughter.
*POOF* A large puff of smoke billowed out of a vial. *SNAP* A crackle sounded loudly as a piece of clay hit the liquid. *HISS* A sharp sound erupted from the vial. Ardor stood at a desk littered with vials and spell components. Various containers were strewn about, some resting over magically induced fire while others were a deep blue color from magical chilling devices. Ardor jotted down a note with one hand as he added another piece of clay to the vial. Adjusting his sleeves, he began a small incantation on the vial while it started to glow yellow. The glow became brighter and then started to fade in and out. *HISS* With a small poof the brightness faded and the liquid turned black. Ardor picked up the vial and threw it against the wall, breathing deeply trying to contain his frustration. Aclhemy was starting to get to him. He looked over at a potion display where several successful potions rested, only two of which belonged to him. He had just taken on the new skill this year and was still learning a lot, but the development was not going fast enough. Sighing, Ardor collected a few vials, handed them over to a humanoid mass of energy, gathered the rest of his belongings and left the room, the energy mass following behind. The elemental had become a good friend to Ardor over the year, helping him in his studies and alchemy as well as his scribing. The tower had become awfully quiet with a lot of the Conclave having been absent lately on their own endeavors. Ardor had been left to his own devices mostly, which was fine for awhile but had become very dull after the first few months. Ardor entered his room in the tower, tossing the few items he brought back with him on the bed. He looked around the room and beckoned to the elemental to do the same with what he was carrying. He peered over at his desk. Throwing his hands behind the back of his head, Ardor sat down and leaned back. He closed his eyes and started to concentrate a little, his red hood falling over his eyes. The elemental shifted slightly with a crackle, bringing Ardor back to reality. He glanced over at the elemental with a slight annoyed look on his face. Slowly, he softened his gaze and just sighed. Grabbing a quill from the desk in front of him and clean piece of parchment paper, Ardor began to scribe some glyphs onto the scroll. Slowly and carefully, he spent the next few hours with scroll after scroll, adding to his collection of various spell scrolls. Scribing was easy...but in time, so too would be alchemy.
In a huff, Ardor gathered his robe and stormed through the tower halls. His face starting to appear the color of his robe, crimson red. Anger had reached its limit within him and he was not holding back today. Approaching the door he was seeking, he thrust it open with his magic and stormed into the room. "I demand a master to apprentice me!" he shouted, letting his anger control him more than he cared to admit. "I have been in this tower for over a year and have yet to be assigned master!" The black robes sat there, appalled at the outburst, contemplating how to swing this event to their sides. The white robes were just as shocked, but directed their anger towards the intrusion. The red robes just glared at Ardor in dismay. "Ardor, you know that they are not assigned like that. The decision falls upon yourself to seek out a master and convince them to apprentice you," the red robe spoke finally. Blinking rapidly realizing what he had just said and done, Ardor adjusted himself to a more calm standing pose and brushed his robes into place. The redness of his face converted from anger to embarassment. Before Ardor could speak, another red robe stood up slowly and started speaking. "I will take on the apprentice." He quickly waved his hand toward the young mage, effectively silencing him before he could say anything. "This is on the condition that you obey every instruction without question and keep to your studies as instructed. I will teach you the ways of the Conclave and prepare you for your Test to the best of my ability." Sitting back down, the mage looked at the other mages looking for any objections. The black robes had already scoffed off the intrusion as a mere annoyance and were already contemplating their own magics and studies. A white robe looked over to the other mages and simply nodded for all of them. Ardor continued to just stare blankly at the red robe who spoke and didn't notice the other mages get up and walk out of the room. As the mage who spoke up approached the door behind Ardor, he put his hand on the young mages shoulder, bringing him back to reality. "Do not fret. You were not wrong in your frustration, but you will have to learn to control your emotions. Remember, our energy is the arts and must always remain that way. Siding with our emotions will earn you a robe of another color." Ardor, startled back to reality, glanced over to the mage. Still not saying anything, he thought to himself who is this mage? Before he could finish processing the thoughts, the mage opened the door and stopped in the archway. "And you will not need to know my name. You may just call me Master." The mage stepped through the archway and closed the door. (To IMM: I will go NPC route for advancement I suppose. I'll need help with the test side of things when I get there)
Ardor sat patiently, staring at the man across the room. The red robed figure sat at a desk, writing feverishly in a book, his hood keeping his face from being seen. A small light flickered from a candle sitting at the desk, creating eerie dancing shadows on the wall behind the man. The room was plain, no stand out features or interesting items. The man finished writing, leaving his quill in the home next to the inkwell. Looking up from beneath his hood, he stared at the mage before him. "Ardor, you must understand. The test is not to be taken lightly. I know you think you're ready but there's a lot you need to prepare for. You can not go into this lightly." "But Master-" Ardor started to speak before being cut off by his master's raised hand, silencing him before he finished his statement. "I'm not saying you can't take it." The mage grinned. "I'm simply saying that you need to understand the consequences of attempting before you are truly prepared. You do realize if you fail, it will be your life?" Ardor swallowed, trying to conceal his fear. He had considered this as an end result but had tried not to devote so much time to defeat, but rather think about the possibilities that awaited him when he succeeded. The master cleared his throat to speak. "As you recall, the test features three trials. As every mage who takes it must be tested individually and of his own merit, we can not train you directly. We as your masters are here to guide and prepare you. You must not take this lightly, because, as I've said before, failure will mean your death." The mage looked sternly at Ardor, realizing that his words fell on deaf ears. Ardor was once again lost in his own thoughts. He was trying to consider what awaited him in his fateful test, knowing that he'd have to face 3 hard truths. The tests were always related to magic, but magic alone could never be the sole answer. One involved wit, one involved a loved one, and a final involved an adversary. The lessons were clear to that much, but they never really went into detail as no mage was ever permitted to discuss his test with another. So what was scaring him? Wit was something he could manage. He had always managed to get by in life through his wit. He was always smarter than the kids at the school he attended in his youth, outsmarting the bullies and even his teacher from time to time. His clever parlour tricks had earned him money to procure his minor cantrip spell components so he could develop his skill early in life. He never bothered asking for money from his parents. They spent their time doting on his siblings because he was different and they didn't want to waste their time on him. A loved one. This would be tricky to determine. Never having been close to his family, he didn't feel it would involve them. He'd heard rumors of mages in the past having to kill their families in the test to prove their loyalty to the magic, but rumors can be deceiving. Besides, he knew there was no love there. So who else? This could be tricky, but his love was to the magic. So he brushed this thought aside. Finally, an adversary. Something he was against. Something that was better than him. What could it be? His master? No, his master was stronger, but not an adversary. How was he going to figure these out... A fist slammed on the table and startled Ardor back to reality. "You really are hopeless, you know!" The mage spewed his anger in his tone. "You won't be able to survive entering the room if you can't even pay attention to what I'm telling you!" Ardor swallowed again, this time his embarassment showed. "I'm sorry, master. I'm not trying to ignore you. I'm just excited." He lied. He had never lied to his master before. Why was he changing now? "I know..." The master's voice was calm again. "There is an excitement that comes with knowing what awaits you after you pass. I can promise you the rewards are worth it. But just bear in mind, the cost is great. Greater for some moreso than others and you must be prepared to pay it, whatever it may be." "I understand." Ardor bowed his head in acknowledgement. "That will be all for today. Go back to your room and continue your studies. Tomorrow we will talk more about this. You have come a long way, apprentice. Your time will come." The mage nodded his head towards the door, motioning to the young mage to take his leave. Ardor stood up and left the room quietly. As the door shut behind him, he kept telling himself over and over, this would be his. He was willing to pay the price, no matter how steep. "I do not think you truly understand...but you will. We all do, my apprentice." The master sighed and went back to writing in his journal.
Read More
He states simply 'You might start with that one.. or you could take a look at the latest story..'
The Latest Entry
The Shadow in the Dark by Mwagdun, posted on Tue Nov 27 19:09:03 2018.
The black velvet robes of the mage flutter in the gentle breeze as he exits the darkness of the forest into the circle (read more)....
The Storytellers of Ansalon, The DragonLance MUD
Astinus 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
\n