Realms of the Arcane - Brian M. Thomsen [0]
Anthologies 05 - Realms of
the Arcane
Edited by
Prologue – Wes Nicholson
Wishing You Many More – David Cook
Secrets of Blood, Spirits of the Sea – Elaine Cunningham
Bread Storm Rising – Tom Dupree
Interlude – Wes Nicholson
When Even Sky Cities Fall – J. Robert King
The Grotto of Dreams – Mark Anthony
A Narrowed Gaze – Monte Cook
The Whispering Crown – Ed Greenwood
Interlude – Wes Nicholson
The Lady and the Shadow – Philip Athans
Shadows of the Past – Brian Thomsen
Tertius and the Artifact – Jeff Grubb
Epilogue – Wes Nicholson
Paperback: 312 pages
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast (November 1, 1997)
ISBN: 0786906472
Scanned, formatted and proofed by Dreamcity
Ebook version 1.0
Release Date: March, 25th, 2005
Prologue
Wes Nicholson
Most of the time, Wes enjoyed living at Candlekeep. He was serving a year's probation before becoming a novice monk, and as a result, was one of the keep's most junior inhabitants. He and his fellow probationers got the jobs no one else wanted.
Wes didn't mind. If he could get through this first year, everything would start looking better.
Slight, a shade over five-and-a-half feet tall, and rather plain in appearance, Wes turned nary a head. Like many eighteen year olds, he was gangly and all out of proportion. His eyes had a deep sparkle, but the rest of his face didn't match them, and his hair was as brown and tangled as a scullery mop.
It was not a mop but a broom that he now pushed slowly across the floor of the common room. He sighed, contented in his work… and in his daydreams.
There were only two things in life that Wes was discontented with. The first was the pall that had descended over the library in the last few weeks. The very stones of the place seemed sullen. The monks were on edge; something was amiss. Wes prayed to all the gods to put it right.
The other unlikable thing made its baleful appearance even now, stomping to a halt in front of the broom.
Brother Frederick-Wes's personal bane.
Wes stopped his sweeping and stood on the hard stone floor of the common room. His shoulders shook in dread of what was to come.
Brother Frederick's boots dispersed the dust pile Wes had collected, and the angry old monk glared at him from less than a foot away.
"You'll never amount to anything, boy! It's taken you too long to clean up after morningfeast-again. You're lazy and incompetent. I don't understand why the abbot hasn't thrown you out. A slovenly boy like you should reap the harvest of his sloth. You want to be a novice monk? Never! There hasn't been a less likely candidate since Jeffrey, almost two centuries ago. And you know what happened to him!
"Now, get on with sweeping the floors before I find some real work for you to do-like emptying the midden!"
Brother Frederick stormed off, leaving Wes to his thoughts: I'm not lazy, just a little slow. One day, I'll show Brother Frederick and the others that I'm worthwhile.
"… you know what happened to him!"
The story of hapless Jeffrey had been used countless times to frighten Wes and the other probationers. Jeffrey was a novice who was so incompetent that he got lost in the library and never found his way out. Nor had anyone ever discovered his remains. He got lost… or snatched, by someone-or something.
It was a labyrinthine place, the library-labyrinthine and spooky.
Of their own accord, Wes's feet wandered from the common room, through the archway that led to the library. His hand gently leaned the broom against the corridor wall.
Ah, the library…
Wes's reverie was interrupted by a polite cough.
He spun around to see the abbot standing behind him. He was a tall, gaunt man, with wisps of gray hair poking out from under his monk's cowl.
"Probationer Wes, I don't suppose you could spare me a few minutes of your time."
Wes bowed his head in respect. "Of course I could, my lord. How may I be of service?"
"Well, first, you could strive not to upset Brother Frederick again. I was coming to fetch you when he stormed by me, muttering some very unmonkly words about you."
"Yes, my lord.