This is where I plan to put some really awesome fantasy links and pics. This one will take longer to put up, since I'm going to be doing it in my spare time (what spare time!) at school. So please be patient, and enjoy!!
Welcome to the world of fantasy!!
And here's your tour guide through this wonderful world, Tasslehoff Burrfoot!! Just watch your pouches...kender tend to get a bit...uhh...blaise about other people's belongings...=)
"WELL!! I'm not sure if I should be insulted or not! Can't believe Allegra would insinuate that I was a thief! The nerve of her!! Oh well, she is my friend, so I guess I can forgive her. *sigh* People are always accusing me of things I didn't do! Oh well. OH! So sorry! *extends his small hand for a handshake* So nice to meet you! Tasselhoff Burrfoot. And your name? Really! How interesting! Well, guess we should be on our way. *his small chest puffs up with pride* Allegra really trusts me, since she gave me this very important job. So, are you ready! Good! Hey, maybe I can tell you a few stories along the way. Did you ever hear the one about when Tanis, Flint and I were almost run over by a sick man in a cart? No? Well!! Let me tell you all about it!!" *as you follow after the eager kender, you sigh, resigning yourself to a long, drawn-out storytelling session by a kender....*
As you follow along after the eager kender, you notice some doors along the hallways. Some are plain, some are more ornate. Tas notices your interest is waning in his lengthy story, and sees you eyeing the doors. "There are some really interesting doorways down those halls, huh? I've been dying to go exploring, but Allegra says I have to wait, because they aren't ready yet. There's only a few that open right now. Want to go check them out?"
With an eager nod, you follow the kender down a short hallway with just a few doors on it. As you start to head down the hallway, Tas stops, with a funny look on his face, and reaches a hand into his pocket. He pulls out a thin sheet of parchment, with neat, elegant handwriting that looks faintly elvish. Tas scans it quickly, and tears begin to fill his eyes. Concerned, you start toward the kender. He looks up, and smiles through the tears. He hands you the parchment, and says, "My dear friend Tanis wrote this," he says, with not the smallest hint of pride in his voice. As you take the parchment, you read the title on the top. "For Flint," you say aloud. Pulling it closer, you attempt to read the small, neat handwriting.
by Tanis Half-ElvenSometimes in the moonless watches of the night when my dear Laurana is not in my arms And this keep lies cold and heavy with mem'ry I hear a certain creaking, a south both faint And weary, and my mind travel in the dark To my youth, and happier days, when you lived still, My dear old friend.You are broken out of your reviere by the loud honking on the kender blowing his nose. With your hankerchief. Tas looks up innocently at you, and follows your glare to the cloth he holds in his hands. "What? Oh, is this yours? You must have dropped it along the way...." He blows his nose once more, and looks at you sheepishly. "I, uh...guess you wouldn't want it back, would you?" With a sigh of disgust, you turn away, and turn towards the hallways. On the opposite wall, there hangs a sign pointing in three different directions, one for each of the three hallways before you. Standing closer to the sign, you read the legend. The arrow pointing left bears the writing beneath, "Science Fiction Links". The arrow pointing right reads, "Fantasy Links". And the arrow pointing down the center hallway reads, "Gothic Links". Tas looks at you, and smiles. "So, where do you want to go now?
And as i think of this, I Recall fire at my back, cool ale at lips, The touch of your gnarled hand upon my shoulder, The lure of the road that brought us together, And, far too soon, tore us apart.
I can see The gleam of sunlight on Sturm's armour, the cold Glare of Raistlin's gaze. I hear Caramon's laugh, And Tas' many questions. And even Kit, Who should be furthest from my thoughts, lingers still.
Carefree were the days, my friend, before the war, When dragons and Gods made Krynn their battlefield. Many were the evening when we would sit and Talk, no heaby matters, but of the market, Old children's tales, and Otik's spiced potatoes.
And though, in these past years, I have saved a world, Found true love, lost and regained my soul, sometimes I vow I would trade it all -- or almost all -- To walk the dusty summer roads by your side.
I cannot pass that certain tree, where our great Adventure first began, without the old ache Of grief in my gut. I cannot help but rail Against the gods, I cannot help but ask them: Why? Why, of we seven, who shared many times In our youth, do four now lie apart from joy, From love, from fear, from pain?
Surely Sturm, who saw Light in the darkest shroud of night, deserved more. You walked with him on the ramparts that morning. You saw his eyes grow clear, you understood him Better than I ever shall. I was not there.
And Raistlin. Yes, I hear you snort, my old friend, But times were not always so cruel between us. There were days I was proud to call him friend, when He was not killing his brother by inches. Even when he was at his nadir, I would Never wish on him the fate he met. The same
I would say of Kitiara. I know now She did not care for me, nor for anyone Save herself. But still her dark eyes haunt me, Her crooked smile defile my sweetest dreams, And sometimes I would give up my life and love To spirit her soul from the dark knight's embrace.
But of all the dear ones I have lost these years, Of Sturm and Raistlin, of Kit and Gilthanas, Your loss still brings the sweetest sting, my old friend. For though I tried to explain to Tas, that day When you closed your eyes -- though I told him about Stars and twilight, and how autumn leaves must fall, I could not make myself understand.
For though My life moves on, my infant son lies dreaming In his cradle, my thoughts still find you, old friend. And though you would scowl to hear me tell of it, And stomp and scoff, I cannot hide the plain truth. I still need you, grumbling old dwarf.
Now, I lie, Sleepless in moonless watches of the night, With my dear Laurana so far from my arms. And this keep rests cold and heavy with mem'ry. I hear a certain creaking, a sound both faint And weary: the scraping of a knife on wood.
Go down the Fantasy Links Hallway
Go down the Science Fiction Hallway
Go down the Gothic Hallway
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