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 worn tome to an Aesthetic standing by you. You note the spine bears the word 'Yohanthalas' scribed in light yellow ink. As you glance down at the page you read..
From the pages of Yohanthalas's book..
Author: Yohanthalas Date: Tue Aug 27 14:37:56 2013 Subject From the ashes.. part I
Born the second son of Kenathalas Sungold, a minor Qualinesti politician, Yohanthalas' destiny was determined long before his birth. His older brother Alethalas, was groomed at a young age to follow his father into statecraft, and, in order to secure political ties, Yohanthalas was to join the clergy. As a child, Yohanthalas surpassed his peers in speed, agility and strength. Yet as his youth drew to a close, he was forced to spend more time helping the qualinesti priests of E'li in their routine tasks. While those around him in the priesthood had (or claimed to have) visions and communion with E'li, Yohanthalas found the hours of prayer to be fruitless endeavors. It was during his military training that Yohanthalas' life began to turn positive once again. While still required by his father to assist in the hollow preachings that Qualinesti religion had become, Yohanthalas was now also required to practice with the bow and blade. He was able to revel in that savage part of his nature that led him into the forests in search of game or the encroachment of other humanoids or beasts. He once again excelled, earning the admiration and friendship of his peers. But even this was short lived. As his military training drew to a close, Yohanthalas found himself forced once more into a vocation he was not personally called to. He watched as his older brother and younger sister Annathalas were married (both once more for political convenience) to a rival political family and a prominent military family respectively. Meanwhile, he spent his time learning the mundane rituals that the elder priests claimed pleased E'li. The funeral of his grandfather, an ancient man more bigoted then most Silvanesti, proved to be the event that changed his life forever. Yohanthalas' grandfather had wished to be buried far to the West, on the shores of the Straights of Algoni so that he could face his birthplace on Ergoth. The funeral procession, accompanied by his family, his sibling's spouses and a small token group of guards provided at the request of his sister's family, set off one chilly autumn morning.
The journey proved uneventful until the final morning. Barely a few hours from his grandfather's burial site, Yohanthalas and the funeral party rounded a bend in the forest to find a large group of humans, hobgoblins and goblins in the final stages of packing up their camp. The humanoids wore unfamiliar black uniforms highlighted with red trim and decorations. The elves, usually never caught unawares, found themselves unprepared for the quick assault that ensued. The security detail fought bravely for a few moments before realizing the battle was next to hopeless with so many non-combatants to defend. As if on cue, Yohanthalas' family broke and scattered swiftly into the woods. His in-laws were the first to flee, followed quickly by his father. Yohanthalas' mother stayed long enough to see her eldest son and daughter safely into the woods. Seeing his grandfather's body abandoned so unceremoniously, Yohanthalas, still in his sacrimental robes, ran towards a badly injured qualinesti guard and grabbed his weapons. Yohanthalas emptied the quiver in less than a minute with each arrow striking a killing or mortally wounding blow. He then reached for the fallen guard's sword only to find himself and his grandfather's body abandoned and now surrounded by the unknown enemy. A quiet calm pervaded the bend in the trail as the black-clad soldiers slowly moved in. Yohanthalas tightened the grip on his sword and, while taking a few steps towards his grandfather's corpse, said the first genuine prayer of his life. The sound of a lone bird call broke the silence, and the enemy soldiers rushed on Yohanthalas. For the first few moments of the fight, Yohanthalas' military training led his sword arm. Yet as the first arrow struck him in the shoulder, his mind faded and he heard and felt nothing. Foe after foe found itself dying to Yohanthalas' blade. Stepping over or on the bodies of the fallen, Yohanthalas quickly cut the number to half, then a quarter, then a tenth of the remaining humanoids.
At last, two remained, and these two, determined to finish this fight despite the losses, positioned themselves on either side of Yohanthalas. The two charged simultaneously. Yohanthalas finished the first with an extended slash of his sword and turned to finish the other only to feel a jagged sword pierce through his gut. Yohanthalas dropped his sword in shock and stared into the humans eyes. The human grinned, but the grin turned to a vacant look of surprise as Yohanthalas pulled the human's knife swiftly from his belt and jabbed it up into his heart. The two fell to the ground at the same time, the elf dying, the human dead. As Yohanthalas' vision clouded, he gaze fell upon a bird of the brightest blue defending its nest against a pair of crows. In those final moments of consciousness, Yohanthalas saw the bird fend off the two crows, check its nest, then cock its head at Yohanthalas, as if looking at him. When Yohanthalas regained consciousness, he was back in his own bed with his sister still weeping at his bedside. He had been unconscious for 2 weeks. His sister explained that they had found him beside the body of their grandfather with a large blue bird perched on his chest and a smile on his face. They had pulled seven arrows from his body but what most surprised them was a freshly healed scar through his stomach. She went on to explain that once the party had returned to Qualinost, Yohanthalas had developed a serious fever. He had mentioned the Fisherking and the Skylord repeatedly in his crazed ramblings. As his sister told him this, Yohanthalas looked out the window and saw a familiar blue bird perched outside his window, still watching him.
Yohanthalas gripped the gunwale of the foredecks tightly as the fast merchant ship, Horizon, lurched over another swell. Though the briney water that sprayed into Yohanthalas' face was cold, the elf seemed to pay it to mind. A firm icey look of resolve was carved onto his face like the expression on an ancient dwarven statue. His thoughts drifted back to his chance encounter with the kender Autumnstar at an inn near Garnet: How had she known his destination? How did she know about the blue bird that fluttered into his dreams whenever he slept? Since his grandfather's misadventured funeral, that same, small blue bird had haunted his dreams to the point that hallucinations of it manifested in his waking moments. His brethern in Qualinost attributed his recovery from the near mortal wounds he received while defending his grandfather's bier to Yohanthalas' strong constitution and the tender care of his sister, Annathalas. Both Yohanthalas and Annathalas, however, knew that the scars from the sword that had run through his gut and out his back should never have healed, let alone in the passage of hours. The other Qualinesti dismissed any notions that Yohanthalas' recovery was anything but natural and lucky. Yohanthalas' suicidal defense of his grandfather's body had earned the respect of many among Qualinost's nobility and military, but drew the ire of its clergy. That one would stand bravely against such numbers had reminded many of the periods in their history when they were masters of Krynn, not a race walled up within their forests in a corner of Abanasinia. But to the priests of E'li, that an acolyte with asipirations of becoming a priest should take up a sword drew close to blasphemy. So, as Yohanthalas had lay in bed recovering, Annathalas had brought him the rumors and workings of the struggle between Qualinost's military, nobility and clergy. Solostaran Kanan, the Speaker of the Sun, tried to maintain a peaceful balance, but now owed too much to the various institutions. It came as little surprise when rumors began spreading that Yohanthalas was of questionable mental health. It was actually a brilliant strategy by Qualinost's high priests; with a few rumors and flimsy personal accounts, they could dishonor the nobility, discredit Yohanthalas and put an end to the military's recent concerns about growing activity on Qualinost's borders. That a son of Kenathalas Sungold was seeing things that weren't there and claiming to have been brought back from the brink of death cast the whole family's acumen into doubt. The loss of Kenathalas Sungold and his connections with the military would be a devastating blow to the rest of Qualinost's nobility. Furthermore, the military had used Yohanthalas' grandfather's funeral procession to call for increased support, but the few guards who had been sent with the procession had all been slain and the remaining survivors had fled early in the skirmish, leaving only Yohanthalas to attest to the attacking force's numbers. If his testimony was discredited, the clergy could claim the number of attackers was exaggerated and make it seem that the military had been using the attack to justify increased powers and resources. All Yohanthalas could do was lay in bed and ponder these rumors, which is why he knew the fateful outcome before the plotters and schemers around him did.
Yohanthalas, while out walking with his sister, had been confronted by a group of three noblemen; Yohanthalas and Annathalas' father's absence from the group was quite noticeable. "We must speak with you, Yohanthalas, on behalf of your father, " said Sunhathal. Yohanthalas gave him a curt bow and Annathalas trailed behind with a worried look on her face as Yohanthalas and the men walked ahead. "You are aware, no doubt, about the vicious rumors circulating around the city regarding your.. state of mind.." Yohanthalas nodded, aware of what these men were about to ask him. "And you are also, no doubt, aware of the tenuous balance of power that now exists within Qualinost." Once more, Yohanthalas nodded coldly. "Then you must understand why your father has asked us, heavy as it weighs on his heart to make this decision, to ask you to leave Qualinost, at least until these.. rumors.. have blown over." Yohanthalas was eerily aware of the two other noblemen exchanging knowing looks behind his back over this statement. "I do indeed understand, Sunhathal. We must all do our part to ensure the strength and prosperity of Qualinost, " Yohanthalas said. His voice had become colder and more monotone since his grandfather's funeral, to the point where even these noblemen, adept at their craft after decades of practice, could not detect the sarcasm of his second statement. Breathing a feigned sign of relief, Sunhathal continued: "We don't know where would be best for you to go.. Ergoth, possibly, or east past the Plains of Dust to Silvanost.. it would be best if, at least for now, you did not remain in Abanasinia." "I will go north, to Solamnia, " said Yohanthalas firmly. The three noblemen stopped walking and looked at each other in suprise. "S.. Solamnia? But why?! The people of Solamnia are a cursed people.. cursed for bringing the Cataclysm upon us all. You must understand how bad it will look for all of us if that is where you choose to fl.. eerr go." "Its already been decided, Sunhathal."
In truth, Yohanthalas was less comfortable with the idea of going to Solamnia than Sunhathal and the other nobleman. These three men had not been the first to approach Yohanthalas about the current situation; Boanthalas, one of Qualinesti's top generals as well as a general for the Wildrunners, had also confronted Yohanthalas. The growing presence of humans and goblinoids on Qualinost's borders troubled many of the higher-ups in the military and many were begining to feel it was time to break Qualinost's isloation, at least to find out if the growing audacity of these invaders had its causes. While it would not require much to determine if these incidents were occuring in other parts of Abanasinia, there were few willing to travel far to the North or East, and agents had already been sent to Ergoth. Thus, Yohanthalas' necessitated departure could carry with it the extra purpose of discovering if anything were amiss in the Northern lands. "Well, if that is where you insist on going, neither your father nor any of us will tell anyone, " stated Sunhathal carefully. "Passage can be arranged in Goodbay and be ready for you by the time you arrive. I hope you are aware that at this point, time is of the essence." "That will not be necessary, " said Yohanthalas coldly. "I can make my own arrangements. The less my parting is connected to my family and the rest of the noble families, the better it will be for all." In truth, Boanthalas had already arranged passage to Caergoth in the upcoming days and taken care of other arrangements besides. Yohanthalas knew that to both the military and the nobility his presence had become a nuisance that needed to be removed, but he felt that the military at least had Qualinost's best interest at heart, while the patricians cared only to maintain what fading power they still retained.
So it had been that after a brief but heartfelt and teary fairwell from his sister, Yohanthalas had strode out to meet with Boanthalas in a small clearing outside the city just after midnight. "Welcome, Yohanthalas, " said Boanthalas as Yohanthalas entered the clearing, "Impeccable timing, as always; would that your father had recognized this earlier and chosen a military career for you." "Well, sir, it seems that his wish for me to join the clergy will not be granted, despite his best efforts, " said Yohanthalas, adjusting his pack. Boanthalas nodded solemnly and with his hand gestured a pair of elves into the clearing from the darkness. One led a swift looking horse, lightly laden with something wrapped in a greyish-green cloth. "Since you will be serving both Qualinost's military as well as Kith-Kanan's army, it is only fitting that you be equipped as such, " said Boanthalas as he pulled a long, straight object wrapped in the same greyish-green cloth from the horses saddle. Unwrapping it, Boanthalas revealed a beautiful steel longsword of elven design; its pommel was the head of a blue phoenix, its hilt the body and its outspread wings the guard. "I had this made specially for you, Yohanthalas.. I have lived long and witnessed enough to know that every "rumor" has its truths, " continued Boanthalas, giving a knowing wink to Yohanthalas. Yohanthalas took the sword gently and turned it over in his hands, looking at it. It was a masterfully crafted sword. "I..I cannot accept this, sir. This is a sword fit for a master.. I.. I am no more than a noble whose banishment can serve a purpose. I know how to keep my head low, I've no ne-" "Hold your tongue, Yohanthalas. You are now a member of the Wildrunners and you would to well to act as such. Your mission to Solamnia will not be a safe one. Remember that most humans fear us as much as we distrust them, and a fearful man is much more dangerous than a distrustful one." Yohanthalas nodded solemnly. Boanthalas motioned toward the other elf who pulled a bundle from the horse's back. "As well as being armed, we thought it best you were also armored." The elf set the bundle on the ground and pulled back the greyish-green cloth, revealing a suit of elven chainmail. Finely wrought pauldrons, greaves, bracers and a breastplate of light mithril lay atop the folded mail, shining in themoonlight. "It is Silvanesti, dating back to before our peoples went their seperate ways. Wear it proudly, for I fear this rising evil will require us to abandon our past enmites." Yohanthalas looked down at the armor as the elf lifted it from the ground to help Yohanthalas into it. Things were moving quickly; much to quickly for Yohanthalas. "While in human lands, it would be best to cover yourself.. now hurry, Yohanthalas, the blessings of the true gods be upon you."
The journey from Goodbay to Caergoth had been uneventful. Yohanthalas did not know if the captain and his crew had been told to leave their living cargo alone, whether they were naturally unwilling to talk to passengers on their ships, or whether the "gifts" of Qualinesti wine had induced them to keep their distance. From Caergoth, Yohanthalas had intended to travel to central Solamnia and inquire about the recent spread of violence and aggression, but this plan had been altered when, north of Garnet, he had had his chance encounter with Autumnstar. * * * * * * * * OOC note: For the story of this encounter, see Autumnstar's stories "A Night at the Tavern Parts 1 and 2" * * * * * * * * It had now been more than half a year since Yohanthalas had left his home and the pangs of longing had all but completely faded. He would return to Qualinost when he had learned the truth; not only to the rumors of the spreading darkness but to the ever growing list of questions he now had: how did Qualinost and Silvanost let themselves reach the point where they were not even aware of what happened within their own borners? When had the humans become more xenophobic than his own people? Most importantly, how was it that a kender, of all the most degenerate species on Krynn, showed a greater wisdom about Yohanthalas and the return of the true gods than any of the high priests in Qualinost? The ship "Horizon" pulled into Shrentak midday and the crew began unloading its goods for trade; mostly wheat from the Solamnic Plains, but also jewelry and iron tools. Yohanthalas shouldered his heavy pack and checked his clothing once more to make sure it covered as much of his elven features and armor as it could. He had been warned by Boanthalas and Autumnstar, as well as by the ship's captain, that the denizens of this area had murdered for far less. He had wrapped his sword and shield in dirty cloth but made sure he could draw them quickly if needed. As he walked down the gangplank, Yohanthalas gave the captain a bag of coin as well as an additional steel piece. The captain nodded once to Yohanthalas in understanding and continued to direct the labors of his crew. Yohanthalas was fairly sure that if any in Shrentak were alerted to his presence, word would spread quickly and Yohanthalas' body would most likey never be found. At a stables near the harbor Yohanthalas purchased a swift but enduring looking horse and walked it to the edge of town, choosing sidestreets in favor of the busier roads. Once outside the city gates, he secured his pack to the back of the saddle and mounted the horse, turning the reins to the East. He still had a long way to go to reach the forests of Silvanost, but he felt confident the worst of his journey was behind him.
The two human sentries of the Red Dragonarmy's scouts near Pashin stepped aside, letting the sergeant past to see the captain. The captain looked at the sergeant as he stepped into the dim light cast by the lantern. "4th squad, returning from scout duty, sir. Zero casualties and information regarding Pashin's troop counts and defenses are in here, " the sergeant said as he handed a waterproofed envelope to the captain. The captain took the envelope and set it on the now complete stack of envelopes next to him. "Good, Your squad will be returning to the same area tomorrow. Grub and get some rest." Having said this, the captain returned to reading reports. After a few seconds he looked back at the sergeant. "Is there something else?" The sergeant looked down and shuffled his feet. "Well, sir, the men are getting a little restless. They signed up for combat and spoils. Sure they're getting paid, but sitting in bushes and counting guards isn't why they enlisted." The sergeant looked back up at the captain and gave a faint smile. The captain sighed, scratched the scar that ran down the right side of his face and shrugged. "We'll be moving out soon. We can't be scouting Pashin for no reason at all. Let your men know they'll see combat soon enough." The captain nodded once and went back to reading the missive in his hand. "I will let the men know, thank you-" the sergeant began. The captain kept reading for a few seconds before looking up in anger. "Don't forget yourself, sergeant. You failed to address your superior proper-" he stated before reaching for his sword. The sergeant before him had grown pale. Sticking three inches out of the center of his chest was a bloodied arrow. He looked up slowly as his eyes glazed over and he crumpled to his knees and fell to the dirt. "To Arms! We're under attack!" the captain shouted, but he could tell from the sounds around him that his men already knew. Everywhere around him he could hear the cries of dying men and the high-pitched whistle of arrows. He looked around frantically trying to find their source but could not see further than the rings of light cast by their covered campfires and feeble lanterns. He reached for his own bow and quiver, knowing he would not be able to see any of his targets in the twilight's darkness. Drawing an arrow and notching it, he scanned around for a target, before feeling sharp pain as arrows sank simultaneously into his right shoulder joint and left kneecap. The cries around him had died down and the captain wondered if any of his men had escaped to bring back word to Bloten. He found the cries replaced by a new sound, as if a flock of giant birds were circling around his camp. Straining his eyes through the pain and blood loss, the captain could make out large shapes in the sky where the stars were blotted out. He heard the high-pitched shriek of a large bird of pray behind him, and a loud thump as it seemed to land. Arching his neck around to see what had alighted, he saw a gleam of lantern light on metal as a humanoid swung its leg over a griffon and dismounted. The figure walked toward him as other griffons landed beside the first, snapping their beaks at each other. The elf that approached him had platinum hair, wore expensive looking elven chain mail and still held his bow. He looked down at the captain with disdain as another elf approached, sword drawn to finish the captain off. "Leave this one alive. We'll take him back and find out why he and his cohorts are here, " the elf said in elven. The elf with the sword in his hand nodded once and set off into the darkness to finish off any other survivors. The first elf slung his bow, walked up to the captain and brought his mailed fist across the captains temple, knocking him out.
Boanthalas turned his gaze from the note in his hands to Yohanthalas, an inquisitive look on his face. "You say this was found on a Dragonarmy messenger on its way north out of Silvanost?" Yohanthalas nodded once, remaining at attention. "The silvanesti in Kith-Kanan's armies are on board and are trying to get Lorac to divert resources to what appears to be a coming invasion, but it will be hard to get them to pay attention to this, " he stated, holding up the missive. Yohanthalas began to protest but Boanthalas held up his hand, silencing him. "I said it would be hard, but not impossible. Furthermore, this might be a matter best resolved without help from Lorac. Our first task is to find out what orb this refers to and how the Dragonarmies intend to use it. From there we can deliberate on out best course of action." Yohanthalas nodded once more, "If that is all, then, I will take my leave." Yohanthalas saluted Boanthalas and started to turn to leave. "Wait, Yohanthalas." Yohanthalas stopped and turned back towards the general. "We had hopes for you when we sent you here from Qualinost, but you have thus far far exceeded our expectations. Word has already been sent to the humans in Pashin regarding the information recovered from the scouting forces you destroyed near the city. We do not know when the enemy armies will move, but it can't be long. Your Windrunner flight will be joined by six others. When the enemy forces begin their march, make them pay for every meter they travel." Yohanthalas remained stiff as he saluted Boanthalas and then bowed. "Yes, General." Boanthalas looked up at the young captain, a smile on his face. "And Yohanthalas, something tells me it is not without reason that you display a kingfisher on your arms and armor." Yohanthalas bowed once more, turned on his heel and left.
Yohanthalas looked back over his shoulder to make sure that the the other Windrunners in his wing were drafting off him properly. Griffons could fly days carrying a single rider if needed, but the large barrels of pitch they carried on this mission were heavy and he did not want them tiring. He had been rotating through the seven wings under his command in an attempt to keep the griffons and their riders fresh, but he would need to give them a few days reprieve soon. The other riders in his wing kept close and one saluted his captain when he saw Yohanthalas turned around. Yohanthalas returned the salute then faced forward. An hour's flight ahead he could make out the serpentine supply column of the Dragonarmies. The Dragonarmies had not yet conceived of a way to take the griffon riders down, but he knew they would find one before too long. Until then he would alternate between sleep depriving nighttime attacks on the enemy soldiers and attacks on their supply wagons. When his wing was about five minutes out, Yohanthalas checked behind him once more, nodded in satisfaction and lowered his helmet's visor. With a gesture of his hand, the wing broke into a glide and began lowering their altitude. They lined up on the column, ready to drop into a dive. By now, the men in the supply train below had seen the griffon riders' approach and were beginning to scramble. Prior attacks had taught the Dragonarmy forces that the griffons always remained out of bow shot. They had also learned that the raids were targeting wagons of food and the siege weaponry. Get far enough away from the wagons and one ould avoid a death by fire. Better to risk presenting oneself as an easy target for an elven arrow than burning alive. After another hand gesture to the rest of his wing, Yohanthalas unslung his bow and adjusted the quiver on his saddle. A few moments later, he gestured once more, smiling as he heard a griffon's screech from one of his tail riders. One by one, the riders in his wing broke into a dive, pulling the strap that released the now lit barrels of pitch onto the supply wagons below (the Silvanesti in his forces were loathe to admit the release strap had been a dwarven invention). When it was his turn, Yohanthalas knocked an arrow and kicked his griffon into a dive. After a few seconds, he pulled the strap that lit his barrel as it released. He was able to loose four arrows (two of which found their mark) before leveling out from his dive. A few seconds later he heard the whump of his barrel hitting its target. Wheeling around and continuing to loose arrows, Yohanthalas assessed the damage done. Nine wagons sat engulfed in flames. One of the barrels had failed to ignite upon release, but its owner was already knocking an incendiary arrow to set it alight. Yohanthalas and his wing circled around for a few minutes more, launching arrows at any that had not yet returned to the cover of the wagons that had not been hit. Occasionally, a brave Dragonarmy soldier would try to return fire, but even the best of these shots reached their zenith meters below Yohanthalas' wing's altitude. When he had a dozen or so arrows left in his saddle's quiver, Yohanthalas pulled his horn to his lips and let out three short blasts. His wing broke off and returned to their places behind his, gaining altitude as he did. As they pulled away, Yohanthalas turned to look at the damage they had done. Three siege weapons and seven wagons of food sat burning, their columns of smoke rising high into the air. If things continued as they did, the Dragonarmy forces would be lucky to have enough food to last until winter, let alone through it.
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The Storytellers of Ansalon, The DragonLance MUD
Astinus points to the massive wall of books behind him and bids you to make a selection.
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