The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Biddie.

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 massive tome bound in dragonskin on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Biddie' scribed in light purple ink.


Author:    Biddie         
Date:      Wed Dec 13 21:49:50 2006
Subject   A Biddie Tale

"Listen to me.  We appreciate that you've found us the circlet,

but now you need to leave so we can work.  Here's your

reward, Biddie."

 

The nobleman reached into his vest, frowned, then began

searching another pocket.

 

"Oh, don't worry.  It's right here, safe and sound.  I'm keeping

everything safe."  The kender beamed, waiting for the

inevitable praise she'd get for doing such a good job.  Biddie

held out her hand so the nobleman could see both the fancy 

circlet and the bulging pouch.  "I bet you're really glad to have

such an important heirloom back.  Your grandma will be so

surprised to see it again!"

 

The man paused, caught off-guard, then said dryly, "Ah yes,

my grandmother.  She doesn't have any idea it's been found."  

It wasn't a lie, per se.  The woman had been dead for years.

But this little thief had been too curious about the item; it

would have been dangerous not to feed her some story.  He

snatched the circlet back from Biddie's outstretched palm.

"You have our thanks.  Now, I'm sure you are a busy girl..."

 

"Woman," corrected Biddy, pointing to her chest and grinning.

"It can't be denied!"

 

The nobleman's round, puffy face reddened.  "You...are a

busy *lady*, so I won't keep you."  He looked down to the

circlet in his hand, stuffed it into his dark coat.  "Good day,

and thank you."  With that, he turned and stepped through a

large, oak door.  It slid shut behind him.  Biddie could hear a

key turn in the lock.

 

She heaved a great sigh.  "Well, that's it, I guess.  What a

mission!  I bet the Finder's Guild will have me as a full member

right away after this.  Who knew that the Kyrie cared so much

about such dull family heirlooms?"  The circlet was completely

unadorned, but the Kyrie had refused to trade anything for it.

They were too busy arguing with one another about how 

Biddie had gotten into their aerie (that's what they called their

nests).  It wasn't easy, that was for sure.  For some reason, 

the bird-people put their homes waaaay up in the mountains

above Mithas.  Biddie borrowed some gnomish ingenuity to get

up the steepest parts.  The personalcliffacescaler wasn't quite 

built for a kender, but it's backup system to its backup system

had worked like a charm.

 

Now Biddie was back where she'd started - this time with a

brand new prize.

 

Biddie smiled excitedly to herself and peeked into the small

pouch.  "Nice!  An elephant, a birdie, and a horse...I bet that's

a giant war horse."  The little wooden figures inside were

smooth and intricately carved.  "I wish I could use the magic

word once, just to see.  Oh, no..."  The nobleman had

forgotten to tell her the magic word!  She just *had* to know

the magic word.  That was the whole point.

 

Biddie ran up and knocked on the door.  There was a strange,

reddish light escaping through the bottom.  She bent down to

shout through the crack.  "Hey!  You forgot the magic word! 

What's the magic word?"

 

There was no answer from the other side.

 

                              ***

 

He was free of the kender, but the flush had not left the cheeks

of Gahnin Whenston.  Kneeling in the center of the marble

floor with the delicate circlet perched precariously on his head,

the nobleman shivered as the scene unfolded around him.

The three priests fixed him with penetrating stares while they

went through the motions of their ritual.  One, the woman,

would have been beautiful in her rich, ivory dress if it weren't

for the sour expression on her face.  The two men, already

identical in almost every respect, wore matching robes of

crimson silk that they had donned just for this occasion.  They

all slowly circled the nobleman, their cupped hands

outstretched.  Each held forward a platinum piece.

 

It was entrancing, how the spellcasters spoke their intricate,

Istarian prayers, always inching closer to Gahnin.  Their voices

droned on for minutes, stopping when they lowered their coins

to the ground, produced more from their sleeves, and renewed

the press.  

 

Then the prayers faded and the chant began.  "M'Fistos", they

whispered with every breath.

 

They were too close, now.  Gahnin felt the word pass through

his lips, unbidden.  "M'Fistos."  He couldn't exhale without it,

couldn't inhale without taking in the warm, stale breath of the

worshippers standing over him. He wished it would end.

 

And it did, quite suddenly.

 

A slight breeze blew through a newly opened window, shifting

the silk curtain ever so slightly.  Then, the flames blazing in

the candelabra died all at once, leaving the room in dark

silence.

 

The circlet slipped from the Gahnin's head, bounced, rolled,

and fell flat a few feet away.  After a few seconds the

nobleman said, "Well?"

 

A woman's voice made a cold reply.  "We've failed.  It cannot

be done."

 

A pair of male voices added, in chorus, "It is too powerful an

item.  The goddess' gift cannot be transferred to you - by us

or by her own followers."

 

Gahnin slumped down on his haunches, felt around for the

circlet.  Anger and relief both tinged his voice as he said,

"The deal is off, then.  You"

 

The woman cut him off.  "No, the bargain is complete.  We

promised to try, at our own great risk, for this is not our own

magic.  It is done and binding."

 

"That's not fair!" exclaimed the nobleman.  "You you knew

this wouldn't work, didn't you?  We are so close.  It's just

locked away in that delicate little bauble."

 

A high-pitched voice asked, innocently, "What, you mean in

this?"  

 

Alarmed, all three of the priests made quick gestures, and

floating magical spheres relit the room.  The nobleman spun

around just in time to see Biddie lean over and touch the

circlet.

 

A swell of soft, blue calm swept through the room.  Biddie

could no longer hear the voices of the people around her.  She

felt herself dropping to her knees.  In the back of her mind, the

kender noted that the excitement of the moment was gone,

replaced with that feeling of being safe in bed, with mother

nearby singing a wordless lullaby.  Biddie shut her eyes so

she could hear better...

 

And then she could see.  Light shone from the figure unveiled

before her.  The woman was too beautiful to be her mother,

too steady, too serene.  Peace never seemed so invigorating

to Biddie, but here it was embracing her and supporting her.

For the first time ever, Biddie wanted to just remain still, here,

with this luminous lady.

 

But already she was fading.  "Soon, little one."  No voice

carried the words, but Biddie heard.  They were an apology -

and a promise.

 

When Biddie opened her eyes she felt empty.  That soothing

contentment was something she had not known since she was

a little girl, and now it was gone again.  

 

Biddie blinked, sighed, and remembered herself.  A smile

crept over her features as the exhilaration of the adventure

filled her little head up to the brim once more.

 

"Wowie," she breathed.

 

One of the faces hovering over her broke out in harsh laughter.

"Wowie," the nobleman repeated to himself, shaking his head.

Then, he exploded.  "Wowie?  What did you do, you little 

thief?!"

 

Biddie looked hurt, but she didn't say anything.  Instead, she 

slowly picked herself up and put a consoling hand on the

nobleman's arm.  Then, with her best mommy voice, she said,

"Soon."

 

Ghanin glared.  "What?"

 

Biddie shrugged and began to walk towards the door.  She

said over her shoulder, "That's it.  That's what happened.

Bright lights and mug-of-tea comfort and she said soon.  Why

don't you give it a try?"  Then she added, "Oh yeah!  What's

the magic word?"

 

A heavily armored man stepped into the room.  The nobleman

shouted, "Good! I've had enough of this.  Take her to the jail

for now."

 

"Hey!  That's not fair...get off of me, you tin can!"  Biddie

kicked and tried to bite, but the guard easily dragged her out of

the room.

 

(Continued in next post.)


Author:    Biddie         
Date:      Wed Dec 13 21:51:27 2006
Subject   A Biddie Tale (cont.)

The three priests were arguing, blaming each other for

whatever it was that had happened.  It was chaos.

 

In the middle of the din, Gahnin squatted down and

gingerly reached for the circlet.  His hand closed around it.

Nothing happened.

 

He threw it roughly across the room. 

 

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

Astinus mentions 'We have had over 803 storytellers on Ansalon pen their epic stories here for all to read.'

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