An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Fennris.

A little gully dwarf runs by and says 'Wordwrap is at 65. You change? 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 manilla folder on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Fennris' scribed in faded orange ink.

Author:  Fennris
Date    Mon Apr  3 19:13:44 2006

Subject  Death... It's a Living

'Off you go little one ...  Don't fret, Lord Chemosh will take
care of
you.  ' whispered Fennris as he gazed into the terrified eyes of
the
once proud Knight.  Slowly the dieing Knight's eyes widened
slightly and
a sigh escaped his lips.  As his life left his body and his soul
went
elsewhere the light in his eyes dimmed and Fennris nodded to
himself in
satisfaction.

Standing up Fennris grasped the haft of his massive waraxe and
with a
twist wrenched it free from the Knight's chest.  Blood slowly
ebbed from
the gaping wound and without another look he stolled from the
alley and
onto Diamond Way.  Yes, it had been a good move to come to
Palanthas. 
His Lord has said that it was here Fennris could be of the most
use and
it was here in Palanthas where he would find the people whom he
could
look to for comradeship.  Odd, that his Lord should think he
would find,
or should even join with, the soldiers of the Dark Lady of
Dragons but
the Master of Death was never wrong and always knew best.  He had
served
the God of Death his whole life and never had his Master steared
him
wrong.  He would follow his Lord's instructions, now as always.

He thought briefly of his childhood, what he could remember of
it, back
before he was even an acolyte.  He and a few other Hobgoblin
children
were part of a small group who had been given to the Temple. 
Their
parents had been powerful within the clan.  To give your children
to
Chemosh was a rare privelege only given to the most influential
in the
tribe.  When Fennris had been given so too had three others and
now the
priests were trying to decide which would become an acolyte. 
Only one
could serve.  The others would be given to the Master, directly.

Fennris remembered the old priest talking too the younger, not
thinking
that the children could understand.  Fennris did though.  He had
always
been a fast learner and had figured out what the sounds others
made
meant.  He wasn't quite sure what 'Keep the strongest and kill
the
others' meant but he knew he was the strongest and somehow knew
that it
was important he show them.

That night, while the kids slept in their pen, Fennris had
crawled over
to his penmates and with his bare hands throttled them, one by
one. 
Then he crawled back to his spot and slep the rest of the night
peacefully.  When he awoke in the moorning he found the old
priest
checking the lifeless bodies beside him.  The old Hobgoblin
looked at
Fennris and smiled a wicked grin and nodding reached out and took
the
young murderer by the hand.

'This is the one.  ' he said to the younger priests and gave
Fennris
into their care.  'Teach him the ways of the Master, as I taught
you. 
'.  They nodded and when he had left they promptly beat Fennris
savagely.

He had dreamed then, after the pain of the broken bones and skull
had
receded.  He had floated into oblivion and wafted in the
nothingness for
a while when a shadowy figure seemed to form in front of his
eyes.
Instinctively he knew this to be the One, the Master, Chemosh -
Lord of
Death.  He looked upon his god in awe, at his dark majesty and
baleful
malevolence, and knew then that he wanted to be no place else.

The figure had looked upon him and smiled sorrowfully.  'No,
Fennris,
you cannot stay with me ...  Not yet.  You have much to do for me
in the
land of the living.  It is your fate to long for my embrace but
to be
denied for a very long time.  ' his Lord's soft voice whispered. 
Fennris had whimpered then, pleaded to be allowed to stay, but
Chemosh
was insistant that Fennris returned to his body.  'I grant a boon
to you
young one, to help you serve me.  When you see my light upon a
mortal,
those are the ones you must send to me.  Some day it will be your
turn,
worry not Fennris.  Some day I will hold you in my arms and then
you may
help me greet newcommers to this side. This I promise you.  '

Fennris nodded and with that his minnd exploded in pain as he was
returned to his broken, shattered body.  The one eye that wasn't
swollen
shut opened and he found the young priiests chanting healing
spells over
him.


Author:  Fennris
Date    Mon Apr  3 19:30:49 2006

Subject  Death, conclusion

He had passed out and when he returned to consciousness he found
his
body was only slightly stiff, his wounds healed.  The old priest
came
and spoke to him of his vision and, after hearing Fennris' tale,
nodded.

From that day forth Fennris had become a valued member of his
community,
helping when asked with mundane needs and, when he found his
Lord's
light around someone, helping them to begin their final journey
to his
Master's embrace.  Always, when he sent another to Chemosh, it
was with
envy.  How fortunate were they, to be free of this world.  Free
to be
with Lord Chemosh, free to exist in a world without pain or
suffering.

For years he did as he was told, and then one day while in the
temple
their Lord had appeared in front of the priests and acolytes.  He
had
spoken to the Elder briefly and then departed.  Without
hesitating he
had approached Fennris and told him what Lord Chemosh needed. 
'You must
go to the human city, Palanthas, and there do our Lord's work. 
He says
to search for the minions of the Dark Lady and to join with them.
 They
have much for you to do.  In serving them you will serve Lord
Chemosh. 
Pack you bag, you leave immediately.  '.  When he turned to leave
Fennris saw his Lord's baleful light around the old priest.  He
nodded
and sighed.  Lifting his axe overhead Fennris brought it down on
the
back of the old Hobgoblin's skull sending blood and brains
spewing all
over the room.

'Yes, Elder.  I hear the words of our Lord, and I obey.  May
Chemosh
cherish you in Death as we have in Life.  Speed and blessing old
mentor.
 ' Fennris said and turned around to gather his things.

Six months had passed and now he was here, in this denseley
packed city.
 He had seen many with his Lord's halo and did the best he could
to
facilitate their journeys but they were many and he was only one.
 As
much as he wanted to send them all to his Lord he knew he
couldn't do
that from a jail cell. He had to work slowly, selectively, had to
carefully pick whom he could help and when.  The Knight had
resisted, as
many did, for the unknown frightened them.  In the end though
Fennris
always found a way to send them along and each time he could feel
his
Lord's pleasure at his success.

He had at one point found a Dark Knight int the city and had
spoken to
him briefly.  After hearing the Hobgoblin's tale he had nodded
and said
he would deliver the message to his superiors.  All Fennris could
do now
was to wait for their reply.

The Storytellers of Ansalon, The DragonLance MUD

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