Candlekeep

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This is a new story about a young boy at Candlekeep. The first chapter here is pretty much an introduction or prologue, so don't expect any bloody battle scenes like in my other story (which I'm still working on) here: http://www.sorcerers.net/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic;f=12;t=000396 You'll also notice I've shortened a chapter's length quite a bit. Tell me what you think and any suggestions/ideas for upcoming chapters. But hey, nothing world shaking. I've already got that part planned out.

“It has been given to me to see glimpses of the future, moments of the measureless time that lie ahead for this world of Toril, called by some the Forgotten Realms. I sit here among halls upon halls and chambers upon chambers crammed with books, books that capture something of our great past. All too often, folk want to know where the bones of great kings or legendary dragons lie... or more precisely where their treasure may be found, if the truth were told. There are a few questors however, whose eyes hold the light of wonder, and who want to know more of this vast, glorious, historied world...”
Alaundo of Candlekeep
“I have lived in Candlekeep for some time now. Studying the writings of Alaundo and many others to gain a glimmer of knowledge about the world and how it works. Alaundo once said that there are a few questors that wonder, amongst the people that seek knowledge for their own ends. Even if I die tomorrow, at least I will have had the pleasure of knowing one such person, and I have the knowledge that only good will come of him.”
Gorion of Candlekeep
A story by Neal the Smyther
Candlekeep
CHAPTER 1
The date being 26 Nigtal, 1358 the Year of Shadows, a cold morn whilst the gods do battle. A small boy is born to Derena Fullgate of Beregost, a child whom she cannot take care of and must be given to the monks of Candlekeep. There is something special about the lad, something that stirs thoughts of the seer Alaundo within the minds of the learned. Is this birth to do with a prophecy? Is do to with a new one? They do not know, and because of this they entrust the boy to the sage Gorion, already a keeper of two charges. What cosmic significance could this birth on a stale morning four days from the New Year bring? They do not know, and will not until the time is too late.

13 Eleasis 1366, Year of the Staff and two years before the Bhaalspawn saga.
The eight-year-old Bhaerith (Abdel 18) sat on the high battlements of Candlekeep, swinging his legs idly as he read from his latest pilfered tome. Hull the watchman was sitting beside him with his back against the wall, allowing some freedom but making sure little ‘Bear’ didn’t fall or something worse. Bear glanced up and picked up a small piece of mortar and dropped it down to thud next to Harold the Gatewarden. Shucks. If it had hit the shield, he would’ve woken up funnily.
It was this scene that the half-elf Cived walked into. Travelling along the dusty Way of the Lion, he had journeyed to Candlekeep to get into its fabulous library. He glanced up as he approached the gates to see a small boy framed against the sun and a brilliant blue background of a sky.
“Er-hem.” He coughed to get the attention of the Gatewarden. The man shot straight up, body straining against the insides of his half-plate armor as he scrambled to his feet and brought his spear to bear.
“Who are you and what do you want?” He gasped the standard question of the gate.
“I am Cived. I wish to enter the library.” He explained, as if this was all normal.
“You must come with a tome worth at least 10000 gold and bear the symbol of a recognized mage of power,” he sneered, looking at the pathetic clothing of Cived. This man probably couldn’t even afford to look at a book, let alone carry one. And as for the symbol…
“Here,” Cived said, pulling a large wood-bound volume from his backpack. “This should more than cover my entry.” He handed it to Harold and Bear peered over the ramparts, trying to get a glimpse of the book’s name. He couldn’t catch it all, but it had something to do with the history of Cormyr, and definitely didn’t have the look of any book in the library he had ever seen. Maybe he could persuade the Gatewarden to let him have a look. “And here is the symbol of Thalantyr of Beregost.” He stated. The Gatewarden nodded in surprise, and he motioned at a stone slit in the impregnable wall.
Behind it, in a small alcove that hardly counted as a weakness in the wall, Dorias the Keeper of the Portal worked a small device set into the wall. After a bit of tinkering, Cived began to glow and appeared on the other side of the wall. Immediately, Harold collapsed under the sun and sank down to the ground again.
Magic ripples glowed within the alcove, showing that the teleportation field did not detect any hostile intentions or that Cived would use the information within to harm others. It did detect magic within a ring on the man’s hand, which was what Dorias grabbed as soon as Cived was material. “What does the ring do?” He asked, his paladin spells of detecting truth in place.
“Why, a simple ring of protection. There are numerous beasts along the road and I needed to get here unharmed. Perhaps you should even dispatch some of your guard to deal with the problem.” Cived suggested. The truth spell did not stir. At last, the satisfied paladin Dorias grinned and called for Bhaerith.
“Bear here will show you to the main library, the temples should you need them, and the inn where Winthrop will set you up with a room. You are allowed nine days and nights to browse, starting tomorrow morn after which you must leave or become an acolyte. Enjoy your time here, and don’t hesitate to call for me or Bear if you need help.” He turned to Bear and handed him the large book that had just teleported through. “Take this to Tethtoril for the library. Make sure Cived here keeps the rules.” He patted the young boy on the back to set him off, with the visitor in tow.
Bear first lead him to the closest of the three, the temples. He pointed out the distant turret of the Temple of Deneir and the pillars of the Temple of Oghma. Leading him aside of the gate, Bear revealed the Temple of Gond. On the way to the massive central library, he pointed out the small shrine of Milil, a place where poets of the keep gathered to hear each other out.
Cived stood in front of the massive doors of the library and was sorely tempted to go in then and there, but he had to get to the inn to unload his belongings. So Bear took him by the hand and trundled him off to the far side of the keep where lay the Sage Candle, the inn owned and operated by the rotund and aging man Winthrop.
The door opened before them and out strode the most infamous man to ever step inside the walls of the keep, the most incorrigible and charming Volothamp Geddarm. Sweeping off his black beret, Volo bowed.
“Good day to you young master Bear. I hope today will find you well,” he said before striding off to do verbal battle with those at the shrine of Milil.
Bear lead Cived inside the humble inn and to Winthrop’s bar counter. The portly man turned around from wiping a beer glass and took in the two with a wink. “And what will it be today Bhaerith? No let me guess, elven fire whiskey? Turmish ale? A spot of Neverwinter Neverthirst? Alas, I suppose not. And for you, sir…”
“Cived. I’m here to visit the library and the man at the gate told me you’d set me up with a room.” He said. Winthrop nodded.
“Well, where’s me 5000 gold entrance fee?” He asked Cived with a straight face.
“5000! The gate-man implied I’d get in for free, and I’d expect so after the worth of my book!”
“My little joke,” chuckled Winthrop. “But there will be a small fee per night, lest you want to sleep under the stars. A gold piece per night.” A gleam came into Cived’s eye.
“A gold piece is more than I make in a day. A few coppers would be suitable for this inn.” Bhaerith smiled and turned away to find Tethtoril. Winthrop could keep up bartering ‘til nightfall.
Exiting, he headed through the lush gardens at the back of the library towards the front. He passed the Chanter of Alaundo’s prophecies and the four voices of the compass. Normally he would stay and listen, as he was fascinated with predictions of all kinds. While distracted, he tripped and the book fell out of his hands to the ground and he got his first private look at the title and the contents.
It wasn’t about Cormyr. The word was actually the author, Hebus Canmunn. The title was that of a book he had actually been seeking within the library, the Manual of Monsters volume 2. He had found the first volume and the third detailing monsters of Faerun, but he had yet to lay hands upon this book.
He loved looking at the illustrations and the descriptions of the powers of monsters. He longed for the day when he could go and experience first-hand the regeneration of trolls, the fierce gazes of korred, and maybe even if he was lucky the fearsome splendor of the tarrasque. A dragon or two would also be nice.
He just couldn’t give this book to Tethtoril yet. It would be months before it could be catalogued and put on the shelves within the reach of the young lad. The kind hands of the Voice of the North, Huja, shook him out of his daze.
“You’d better run along with that book now,” her voice, soft and sweet from years of singing of Alaundo said. “You’re beginning to be a bit like Phlydia, bumping into things while running with books.” Phlydia was a mage living in the keep, absent minded and always into books, although her tastes ran more towards romances than Bear’s hunger for adventures and books on monsters and heroes.
He took the tome under his arm and ran for it, hoping that Huja wouldn’t realize this book was worth more than 10000 gold pieces. Sneaking around the front end of the walls that surrounded the library proper, he bumped into one of his friends at the keep.
A young girl, a few years older than himself, Imoen had already been taken under the wing of Winthrop himself to train as a rogue. She held him back at arm length, her disgust of boys still within her at 14. She was a friend, yes, but she didn’t like being that close.
“Where are you off to in a hurry? A new book? Let’s see!” She held her hands eagerly. Bear grumbled at the delay, but he gave it over to her. “Monsters! Isn’t that a bit to scary for ickle Cubby?” She teased.
Bear snarled at the baby name a socked her in the stomach, which only made her laugh. “Seriously though, some of this stuff would be pretty hard for you to read,” she said, leafing through the pages. “We could go and read it together. I wouldn’t mind having a look – I’ve not seen it before.”
“Alright. I was heading to cliff spot anyway.” He replied, mentioning his ‘secret’ place outside the walls of Candlekeep. He would climb to the roof of the schoolhouse to his rope ladder he kept there. He could then get down to an area right near the cliffs that ran to sea. Nobody could get there other than his own way, so his mentor Gorion didn’t like him going there. But Gorion could just cast a fly spell anyway if he wanted to.
The two went off, keeping an eye out for the surly Abdel, an 18-year-old that had already joined in with the Candlekeep guard and had done some mercenary work. He was in a bad mood lately and the two had learned to avoid him in such times. They didn’t meet him, but they did spot Volo on his way back from defeat at the minds of the philosophers and poets of Milil.
They climbed to the roof of the small school and reached the top of the battlements. There was no walkway on this section of the wall. Bear reached into his mind for a simple trick he had learned but Imoen still said was amazing. The rope ladder at the bottom of the wall lifted itself up at Bear’s command and came to his hands. Imoen attached it and the two climbed down, leaving the ropes to climb back up afterwards.
For the next three hours until Winthrop’s dining hour Imoen helped Bear read through the book, looking at monsters like automatons and ixitxachitl from the sea of Seros. Bear tried to do most of the reading, but Imoen had to help in places. Eventually the only other adult besides Gorion that knew of their secret place came to bring them to dinner.
The assassin in training Shank was nimble enough to get up the school roof to remind them of food. He smiled to himself, glad that Imoen was helping to educate the child. He didn’t know it, nor did Imoen or Bhaerith himself, but this education would bring Bear to a point in his life when it would be necessary for him to continue to survive, and for the survival of all Candlekeep. Only Gorion knew that. But Gorion would be dead in two years, well before the time when this knowledge of Bhaerith would be of any use at all.