[Ylaraniala Majere]'s diary

226245  Link to this entry 
Written about Tuesday 2004-05-18
Written: (7318 days ago)

Here follows the full version of The Continuing Adventures of Dalamar and the Brooms, unedited version. Due to my darn brother being so lazy!




Setting: Just after the short story The Wizard’s Apprentice, in the Tower of High Sorcery at Palanthas.

My brother and I just couldn’t help continuing the story of the Wizard’s Apprentice, and, well, it just had to be done…thanks to the original writers of The Wizard’s Apprentice.

Dalamar has finally finished cleaning up the devastation that he caused by stealing the Staff of Magius, tracked down the Live Ones, and is finishing an extremely sincere letter of apology to the Clerics of Paladine for drowning the Lady Crysania when she came to bring Raistlin a fruitcake. Now he sits in Raistlin’s study, looking over the letter, when the spectre he sent to find out when the funeral was brings him news…


“Apprentice, there will not be a funeral. Lady Crysania is not dead.” The spectre’s cold voice intoned.
“WHAT?!”
“She did not drown. She is, however, blind, as she apparently scratched herself on one of the Shoiken Oaks as she was swept past in the flood.”
Dalamar hesitated, then nodded. The spectre drifted through the door as Dalamar held his surprised and thoughtful face, then dropped it as he gleefully ripped up the letter of apology.
“She doesn’t need to know it was me!” he said happily as he dropped the pieces into a handy wastebasket.

**********************************************************************
Raistlin sighed to himself, shutting the blue-bound spellbook, yawning and stretching. He remembered the last time he had done this and scowled. He still could not believe his apprentice’s temerity. Raistlin glanced at the staff, making sure he was carrying it before he went to bed. He had threatened Dalamar with becoming one of Santa’s elves, but it was always a good idea to make sure…

Raistlin began chanting the spell to take him to bed, then he noticed something odd. A few parchment scraps were littered in the wastebasket. He didn’t remember putting those there. In fact, he’d almost forgotten that that basket existed. Raistlin creased his brow in thought, puzzled. Who… of course, it had to be Dalamar. Sloppy elf… he never actually disintegrates these things, he thought in irritation. Raistlin started casting the disintegration spell, then paused. One of the scraps had a few words that were not ripped up. Dear Clerics of Paladine, it read.

Wait a minute… didn’t he tell Dalamar to send a note of apology to those people?

Raistlin was just about to yell for his apprentice, when he got a very amusing idea…

***************************************************************************************

Dalamar heard his Shalafi call “Apprentice! I have a treat for you!” in a very sweet sounding voice. Dalamar eagerly started reciting the spell, then stopped. This was a little fishy. After all, he had stolen the Staff of Magius just a short while ago. Then he remembered the torn letter… Uh oh. I forgot that Raistlin always disintegrates his trash! Dalamar froze in horror, then wondered if his Shalafi had found it, or maybe was just happy about the efficiency of his cleanup. Maybe I should send a Magic Eye… Dalamar quickly made one and sent it to the study. He looked around with it, carefully making sure that it couldn’t be seen. His Shalafi was talking to someone. Someone with a red suit, a white beard, and a jolly demeanor… Dalamar definitely was not going to go in there, not with HIM! “I have to get out of here!” he thought frantically, wondering where he should go. His first thought was, of course, his home, Silvanesti. Dalamar, without thinking of any consequences, hurriedly chanted the Transportation spell. 

He arrived in Silvanesti, panting with fear. There weren’t many things that could make him afraid, but two of them had been in that study! He looked around and froze again. Oh no! Dalamar had teleported right in the middle of a market! Cries of “the dark elf!” and “the exile!” filled the air, and hateful visages filled his sight. Weapons came to hands swiftly, snarls twisted his people’s faces. Dalamar panicked, and wooshed himself to the first place that he thought of.

Dalamar remembered the rest of those days of pain with a shudder. Being chased by minotaur in Mithas, and the trip to Kendermore…! How tired and beaten he was now that he finally got out of there! Kender accidentally giving instructions to a bugbear’s cave instead of the way out, stealing his spell components, chattering on and on and on! He considered going to Istar or maybe the Knights of Solamnia. NO! Dalamar thought, horrified. Istar was the home of the sea elves, and they were still elves. The Knights were positioned in Palanthas, and that was the last place he wanted to go!

The Forest of Wayreth. Of course. I’ll be safe there. Santa won’t be able to find me there! I hope… Dalamar was very, very relieved to see the magical trees. Finally safe! Sighing with relief, the elf entered the forest. He walked two paces or so when WHACK! Dalamar smashed aquiline-nose first into the ground, then twisted to see what had hit him. It was one of the trees, and it was preparing to hit him again! Dalamar threw a Lightning Bolt at it, splintering the entire tree.

Oh NO! NOT AGAIN! Dalamar screamed, then ran farther in the forest. Brooms! More brooms! EACH SPLINTER WAS BECOMING A MAGICAL BROOM! He screamed again, and chose to go back to Raistlin. Even the Workshop was better than this!

There he was: Santa Claus. Dalamar shuddered. “Come here, apprentice. You are to "study" with the man until your contract wears out. You are lucky that I do not punish you.” Raistlin’s golden eyes glittered as he handed a contract to the contrite young elf. “Yes, Shalafi,” Dalamar said meekly.

“All you have to do is sign here, and you get to go to my Workshop in the North Pole! Believe me, toy-making is great!” The jolly man laughed, and Dalamar – with a sharp glance from his Shalafi – gave a sickly smile in return, dreading the days that would come as he signed the contract for a full year’s worth of work.

Dalamar was first tried out as a house maker, but after each one turned out giving the person looking at it a feeling of dread, he was transferred to the train-technicians. A few weeks later, Dalamar was fiddling with one of them, dwelling on his misery for just a few seconds, and BZZZAPP! Those that came to find out what happened found an elf on his back, arms still in the position they were in when he was working, hands and face soot-covered and long hair standing on end. The train had fared worse: all that was left was a charred spot. Dalamar spent his next trial in the demolition crew, destroying messed-up toys and (what else) trash. Much of which consisted of letters, continually reminding the elf what a bad boy he had been. In those exact words, too, when Santa came around to talk.

When he accidentally blew up Santa’s sled, he was transferred yet again to a building department… where he almost went insane. He was told to make…. BROOMS. When Dalamar started frantically to protest, Santa got the contract that Dalamar had signed. “I almost forgot about this,” he said apologetically. “Your teacher said to be certain to have you make brooms. I don’t know why that would be, but he said you’d enjoy it. Oh, and if you don’t want to do that, he said that you would be very happy to have the contract extended for five more years! That master of yours certainly has your best wishes at heart, boy! You’re lucky to have him. Of course, we can extend it anyway if you want…”

“NO! Dalamar cried, stricken. I… I think can make the brooms. Th-thank you, anyway.”

Yes, a very good Shalafi, Dalamar thought in absolute misery. And he probably knows what he’ll do if I complain, too. Moaning, the dark elf went back to the workshop, and began building the brooms. Every time he finished a step, the current broom hit him in the face. When he tried to stop for a few minutes the entire pile began to move… Dalamar hurriedly went back to work. Cut. WHACK! Sand. WHACK! Polish. WHACK! Tie. WHACK! Then the next one, and the next one…

***********************************************************************
Dalamar was finally released from his prison filled with jolly fat men, happy toy-making elves, and cruel brooms after nine more months of excruciating pain, thankfully going back to Raistlin. As he was dropped off, Santa and the Workshop elves said a cheerful but sad farewell, suggesting that Dalamar come and work again the factory. “After all, I can always use a few good elves!” Santa boomed. Dalamar almost retched when he heard those words, but managed to smile weakly in return, knowing what would happen if he didn’t. The elf quickly entered the Tower, remembering to never, ever disobey his Shalafi again.

***********************************************************************
(An uncommonly known fact: Dalamar actually became Head of the Black Robes and later Head of the Conclave because he threatened to hide from the brooms behind the wizards on the Conclave if they didn’t agree. After one was knocked out and the another severely injured, the vote was unanimous.)

***********************************************************************
A few decades later, during the War of Souls…

Dalamar was impaled on the multicolored spear, writhing in pain. Then the pain ended, and he saw his body lying on the wall, pinned by the force of the blow. His soul sighed, thinking that at least he was now free of the brooms! They could harm him no more! A hissing voice that was really five voices said “The brooms were controlled by me, mortal. And they still are!” A far more beautiful voice summoned him back into his body, while the hissing voice laughed. Dalamar screamed, but no one could hear him, living or dead, for he was neither. The brooms surrounded him, trapped him, and the voice laughed as he screamed, and screamed….
225814  Link to this entry 
Written about Tuesday 2004-05-18
Written: (7318 days ago)
Next in thread: 226533

Dilandau wants to take her Test! I just hope she survives. It would be terrible if she didn't. Especially for her. I wouldn't want to fail mine, and I almost did! Yes, i did take my own Test. My char nearly went insane! Luckily, she was able to hold on, but she really does not like being reminded of that ordeal. And nor do I, really! Though if anyone who knows about Dragonlance asks, I may tell them what happened.

224074  Link to this entry 
Written about Sunday 2004-05-16
Written: (7320 days ago)

I miss Raistlin. I miss the old Nikki. I miss the Carl I knew. I miss Danni. I miss the Drow, and I ache for her. I miss my old friends. I even miss Gilthanas, who I've only known for a very little while. But missing people gets me nowhere. I have to find a way to live even without the people I miss. But I hate being alone! So very alone. I've been alone ever since I've become a teenager, and I'm sick and tired of it! Being alone, without hope of understanding. Then, Raistlin understood. He knew how I was, knew what I wanted, what I needed. Now he only answers when I really need him. But what about me needing him because I'm so alone, so pained? How can I tell him those things? How can I tell him that I miss him so much? He might think that I'm trying to be something else, not his friend, or that I'm trying to play on his emotions. But I need him! I need my friend. I want all of them, but I need him. I need him because he understands, and because he is strong enough to last through his pain. I don't think I am. Why must he only answer when I'm totally broken?

216483  Link to this entry 
Written about Saturday 2004-05-08
Written: (7328 days ago)

Ouch, that hurt. Still does, but I think I can live again. Now that spot is just empty, empty, empty. And aching. She won't care, though, so why bother? But I don't want to hurt the others here, though I think they'd be happier in the long run if I did leave.

216085  Link to this entry 
Written about Saturday 2004-05-08
Written: (7329 days ago)
Next in thread: 216130

The Drow apparently doesn't care a whit about me, or me leaving Elftown. That's one too many times of being hurt. So I will leave. After all, what's the point of staying? The two people that I thought I knew really well are gone. The two people who I cared so much about, and who I thought cared about me, are gone. One really, the other merely not caring. It hurt so very much when Raistlin left. This hurts less immediately, but I can feel the ache starting already from the place the Drow used to fill. Why this happens, I don't know. Why she didn't tell me earlier, I don't know. But what I do know is that if anyone else does this, I might very well die on the spot. I had a few dreams about the Sorceress, Raistlin, and myself laughing and talking together. That dream is totally shattered. I wish she cared just a little. But she doesn't. All that time of waiting eagerly for the time she gets on is wasted, worse than wasted. At least waste doesn't hurt this much. But anyone who is reading this, please don't blame the Drow. She is right - we do not agree on many things. I just wish she could accept that and try to care anyway.

213952  Link to this entry 
Written about Wednesday 2004-05-05
Written: (7331 days ago)

Well, Gilthanas is really nice. Pretty fun to talk to. Baaaad grammar, though. Doesn't matter, really, but still. Might as well mention it. Elfboy hasn't been on since I talked to him, but patience is ever the elven way. "Patience in everything."

213184  Link to this entry 
Written about Wednesday 2004-05-05
Written: (7332 days ago)

Elfboy is the greatest help that The Dragonlancers Company can get, I'll bet. He's really nice for doing this stuff. Or at least offering to do it. I had no clue he was a Dragonlancer! Who would have thought! They're popping up everywhere!

And he and Jewl are either really acting, or they like each other. Enough to show it in front of everyone in chat-form.

212048  Link to this entry 
Written about Monday 2004-05-03
Written: (7334 days ago)

We played Horseshoes today with metal shoes. It was pretty fun with practice, but I felt kind of downcast for a while, because as usual I'm NEVER better than someone else. One of the others is ALWAYS beating me at a particular something. It gets annoying very fast. And frustrating. The only thing that I am better at than anyone else in my small family is poetry, and what use is that? Very few people actually want to read it, and most have no clue what is good, what is great, and what stinks. And it doesn't get one money or even impress people, little though that is, because they just think I'm fufu. I can't help being a little bit, I can't help being an elf in human skin. It isn't fair when people think that, because I'm more geek-minded than they think. Heck, I am a geek. A weirdo and a geek. Why can't they just accept who I am?

210173  Link to this entry 
Written about Friday 2004-04-30
Written: (7336 days ago)

I feel like mentioning my favorite poem, the one that I memorized by heart (Eric forgot part of his, bwahahaha). Anyway, it's in the Dragonlance saga (what else) in one of the Tales I books as a short story. The writer did a really good job, putting one or two verses in a section of short story. It was cool, and was the first poem I read, the poem that inspired me to write some myself.

Hunting Destiny

There was a proud and noble stag
In Shadow Wood was born
And there he grew, and there he met
And loved a unicorn.

He served her long, he served her well,
He served her whole and part
Until one night in Shadow Glade
He told her all his heart.

She did not mock, she did not laugh,
But softly told him nay
He did not grieve but chose to leave
And plotted to betray.

He sought out then King Peris's men
His words were cold and blunt
"Oh sentry hosts, desert your posts
I offer you a hunt."

King Peris's men were duty bound
To guard the wood from fear
The king, in pride, set sword aside
To bargain with the deer.

"There is no hunt for me," said he
"Of any creature born
Unless I could, in Shadow Wood,
Hunt down the unicorn."

"None knows so well where she may dwell
As I who did her will
If you will heed, then I will lead,
And you may have your kill."

But one lone guard forewarned the king,
"This hunt is evil starred
For those with arms and potent charms
Against who we must guard

No more will wait with eyes of hate
And souls and hearts of gall
But purge the wood of light and good,
And gods forgive us all."

Still Peris boasts "Step down, my hosts
And hear the hunting horn
Let men invade both wood and glade
We hunt the unicorn!"

The stag lead on from night till dawn,
From sunrise into morn
And in the shade of Shadow Glade,
Betrayed the unicorn.

She spoke to him, her voice was grim
"What have you done for pride?
You know and see your destiny
And yet you turn aside.

You would betray me to my death,
And quite forsake your vow?
Then service lent without consent
Is all you do me now."

She touched him once, she touched him twice
And three times with her horn
And there he fell, and where he fell,
He rose a unicorn.

The guards have fled; their trusting land
All undefended lies
And through the wood invaders ride
With darkness in their eyes.

Without alarms they practice charms
That drive away that light
And Shadow into Darken Wood
Was made that evil night.

And afterward, with sword and spear
And horse and horn and hound
They hunted down King Peris's men
And ran them all to ground.

The king was slain, his body lain
Among his dying men
But they were told, ere they were cold
To rise and hunt again.

"For every wraith who breaks his faith
Shall wander without cease
And then, perform what he did warm
And never rest in peace."

So every night the stag betrays
The love he could not keep
And king and host desert their post
To hunt and never sleep.

And so they shall betray and hunt
Until the day they show
That they somehow fulfill that vow
They broke so long ago.


(much later)

The shadows in the woods are plain
And mingle now with light
They flow and play with sun by day
And dance with moon by night.

From Darken Wood has Shadow Wood
Been granted its release
And those who were killed in vows fulfilled
Have there been granted peace.


A few remarks:

When the unicorn touched the stag with her horn, he turned into another unicorn. The king's men were hunting the real unicorn, but the real one fled, and the new one, the stag, was hunted instead and killed by those he convinced to hunt his love. The unicorn could not take him as a love, but she did love him, even though he was a haughty creature and thought that, since he was the only white stag, she should love him, not because he was a good stag. That was in the short story, not the poem. The king, his men, and the stag redeemed themselves in fighting off draconians, a mix of dragon and man, very evil. They were killed in the attempt. So may every man (generic) be punished for failing in his duty to protect others and, by his failing, condemn them to their deaths.

206617  Link to this entry 
Written about Monday 2004-04-26
Written: (7340 days ago)

Continuing the short story The Continuing Adventures of Dalamar and the Brooms...

Raistlin sighed to himself, shutting the blue-bound spellbook, yawning and stretching. He remembered the last time he had done this and scowled. He still could not believe his apprentice's temerity. Raistlin glanced at the staff, making sure he was carrying it before he went to bed. He had threatened Dalamar with becoming one of Santa's elves, but it was always a good idea to make sure…

Raistlin began chanting the spell to take him to bed, then he noticed something odd. A few parchment scraps were littered in the wastebasket. He didn't remember putting those there. In fact, he'd almost forgotten that that basket existed. Raistlin creased his brow in thought, puzzled. Who… of course, it had to be Dalamar. Sloppy elf… he never actually disintegrates these things, he thought in irritation. Raistlin started casting the disintegration spell, then paused. One of the scraps had a few words that were not ripped up. Dear Clerics of Paladine, it read.

Wait a minute… didn't he tell Dalamar to send a note of apology to those people?

Raistlin was just about to yell for his apprentice, when he got a very amusing idea…

**********************************************************************

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