Family Gatherings
A Yuletide Tour of Parties of the Gods
One of those crazy, adoring, drooling fans once asked me, with complete and total sincerity, what the perks of being a Raistlin were.
Now, the first thought that entered my mind, upon hearing that absurd question, was "I cannot laugh at this." After all, this boy was so very serious and adoring, his eyes both wide and luminous with hope (and a little ambition), mouth slightly open in the anticipation of receiving my answer. The complete embodiment of earnest sincerity, a boy whose life ambition was, no doubt, to become a Raistlin when he grew up, it just would not be right for me to laugh in the face of the boy.
Then I realized that was merely my poor conscience trying in vain to rehabilitate me, yet again, and I laughed away at the poor deluded soul before me.
Once I got over my laughing fit..and managed to escape the predictable outburst of rage spawned by idealism forever spoilt…I realized I did have answer to that question. The Saturday night parties!
Of course! Those definitely constituted a perk of being a Raistlin. After all, if I was not SacRaistic, I would not have gotten invited.
Okay. Strictly speaking, Lady Raist and Raistlehoff were the two Raistlins specifically invited to the parties, as they both actually have charm…or can fake it decently enough, but I got the short straw. And so, without further ado, let me share with you one of the many perks of being a Raistlin: my experiences at the annual Yuletide Parties of the Gods!
Well, fine it would have been "without further ado" if my apprentice had not felt the need to ask a stupid question immediately. Thanks bunch.
Yes, I was able to attend all three parties in one night. No, I am not going to tell you how I managed it. If you need an explanation of time travel in the Dragonlance setting, there are a number of explanations that have been offered both by the authors and by the fans. However, if you really want honest insights into the relationship of time travel with Dragonlance, locate essays offered on Dragonlance time travel authored by one T.H. and released for public consumption in the years, say, 1988, 1994, and 1999 (if you have to ask PC or AC, you will not get that answer from me without suitable remuneration for the service). You will find those three essays, and their contrast with each other, enlightening.
But back to Saturday night…
The Dome of Creation
I braved the annual Yuletide Party of the Gods of Light first, figuring hey, they are the good guys. How bad could it be? At worst, they would try to reform me again, as usual (you would have figured they would have given up with that by now, but I understand that "Raistlin: The Misunderstood-Yet-Still-Good Guy" novels still sell really well). And, at very worst, that moralistic bunch would merely be boring.
The address on the invitation indicated the Party was to be found at the Mighty Fort of Kiri-Jolith (did that boy ever grow up?!?), and so there I went. The Fort was decked out with holiday cheer. There is nothing like Yule to bring out the gaudiness in everyone, mortal and immortal alike. Lights, wreathes, chains of holly, more lights; the fort was completely decked out with the works. Even the bolt-throwers and catapults had been pulled back from the battlement edges, so as to not detract from the festive image (that cannot have been Kiri-Jolith's idea; he has as much claim to charm as the bison he resembles).
"Come in! Come in! Come in, and know me better man!"
I shook my head at the jolly, bison-headed god, robbed in green, who was at the gate to meet his guests. Terrific, I thought. How original. Someone finally persuaded Kiri-Jolith to read a civilized literature book, and he managed to find one of the cheesier lines to use as a greeting.
Once inside the great hall (and well away from a jolly Kiri-Jolith), I politely accepted my first prop for the evening from one servant (a goblet of spicy-sweet wine), politely refused my second prop for the evening (an attractive female escort no doubt intended to both keep me entertained and keep me out of other people's affairs), and swept into the social melee that is nearly tradition at "good guy" gatherings.
Talking fill the evening. And singing. The Third Annual Mouse Choir of Habbakuk was one of the evening's finer (albeit teeth-clankingly shrill) entertainments. But mostly talking. The center of conversation was, of course, the current events on Krynn and the various agendas being played out there by the various Gods of Light. Most all of the current agendas seemed to be variations on the now oh-so-original theme of "beat the evil gods", and so need not be summarized here.
Understanding that talking was the most interesting form of entertainment available, I jumped into the conversations with my typical obnoxious enthusiasm. The Late, Great Paladine was manifestly not considered a polite topic of conversation. Consequently, that topic provided me with a great deal of amusement during my entire visit. The efforts of the guests to politely but firmly avoid conversations about how long Paladine slept last night and how cold he might have been in that hayloft was positively delightful!
We saw precious little of Mishakal through the evening. I imagine this first Yule without her beloved husband was a bit much for Her Grace (and apparently inviting mortals to these divine holiday shindigs is frowned upon). Habbakuk spent most of the evening in the form of a squirrel, apparently entertaining his latest four-legged romantic interest. Branchala, apparently feeling his place in this divine society threatened by the sheer "cuteness" of the mouse choir, spent the evening singing in the same high-pitched, squeaky voice (apparently not realizing that the cute appearance of the mice and the cute voices of the mice were mutual requirements for the complete "cute" package). Majere, apparently the worst for drink early in the evening, past out in the chair next to the wet bar. I was assured by everyone that he was "meditating on the peace of the evening", but was unconvinced based on the sight of a goblet still half-full with his twelfth refill of the evening spilling from his limp fingers, and the occasional ear-splitting snorts and snores that emanated from the chair, which everyone politely ignored. Solinari was, I gathered, stuck out on moon duty that evening, and so could not be present. Honestly, if you are willing to play a hand of poker for moon duty, you really deserve the inevitable outcome of playing against the likes of Luintari and Nuitari; two gods who figured out long ago how and when to cheat… Kiri-Jolith, unfortunately, kept up his Dickensian impressions the entire evening, which proved far more annoying then entertaining (someone please buy that boy more books for the next Yule!).
All in all, it was about what I expected: a dull social gathering with folk talking about nothing the entire time (seeing Majere getting soused certainly helped mitigate that dissatisfaction, however). And so, handing back my prop for the evening (that glass of wine that I drunk nothing from the whole evening); I departed for the next party of the evening.
The Hidden Vale
The Library of the Tobril is usually not what one might call a "happening place". Therefore, when I say the location for the annual Yuletide Party of the Gods of Neutrality, I really was fearful that I would have been better off staying with the Gods of Good (that was a scary thought!).
My fears, however, were laid to rest. The Library was not nearly as boring as usual. Someone with a real eye for the aesthetic (the principle, not the scribe) had decorated the building and grounds for the season in a very tasteful fashion. The music permeating the air sounded rather normal and unbothersome (particularly after the mice), and no loud-mouthed, animal-headed gods were on hand to quote Dickens at the tops of their lungs all evening to guests. There was a possibility I might enjoy myself.
Zivilyn and Chislev seemed to be playing host for the evening. The god and goddess greeted me politely, albeit distantly. Chislev is a nice enough old woman, but I do often wonder what many do upon greeting Zivilyn; the notion that while he was saying hello he was also conducting a background check on you from birth to present. It is a weird notion, especially when he asked, in a small-talk fashion, if I had ever gotten over that brussel spout (I distantly recall hurling one when I was 10).
The other gods present seemed less content with the celebration. Their followers seemed to run a degree of interference between them, keeping them apart from each other. Apparently Yule is not a favorite family holiday for the Gods of Neutrality. Gilean was no where to be seen. Shinare seemed focused entirely on glaring at Sirrion all evening, who appeared to be enthusiastically entertaining six different women of diverse races. The stare was hot enough to roast a hog; I wondered that even the God of Fire could not feel the heat. True to his vices, Reorx was drinking and gambling with everyone he could find that was not one of his fellow gods. I even played a few hands with him and, with Reorx's own luck working normal (for him), I won sufficient wealth to fund my experimentation well into next year (he tried to get me to toss dice double-or-nothing with his clothing as his wager, but having to look at naked, fat dwarf for the rest of my time here just did not appeal). Luintari flirted shamelessly with everyone present, except for her fellow gods. The less said about that, the less persuasion I will have to exert with Lady Raist to allow kiddies to read this.
Gilean finally made his appearance halfway through the evening, to the shock of everyone present. He was obviously the worst for drink (intoxication really should be forbidden to those with divine status), and intruded into every conversation with something inappropriate to say. I really was amused, because I got all the enjoyment and entertainment of an obnoxious conversation stopper without actually having to go to the effort. The best of the evening was Gilean sidling up to Luintari, belching, and stating loudly "you know, I never really loved your mother".
I have yet to figured out what Zivilyn was the only person present in the room that blushed a beet red upon hearing that…
Alas, I still had one more party to attend. So I bid fair adieu to this family gathering. Honestly, it sounded like it was coming to an end anyway with Luintari trying to persuade her father simultaneous that yes, he needed to go to bed, and no, she was not planning on going to bed with anyone herself.
The Abyss
Yes, to first get the obvious question out of the way: the Gods of Darkness do actually celebrate Yule. I do not understand where people get these funny ideas about the Evil Gods not being about to let their hair down and have fun. On the other hand, Morgion's idea of a rollicking good time cannot really be called "good taste". So I can understand where some funny ideas may have came up.
Finding the annual Yuletide party in the Abyss proved difficult. Takhisis only knows (literally) why the Abyss insists on shaping itself to the desires of the individual visitor, but it did make finding the party challenging. If you just imagine joining the Yuletide party of the Gods of Evil upon entering the Abyss, you will either find a "decoy party" put in place specifically to stop party-crashers, or you will find yourself on the wrong side of the cage bars at the real party. Either possibility is an equally deadly experience for the ignorant.
Fortunately, there is a trick to navigating the Abyss during Yule that, once you know it, makes the whole prospect far easier (if not necessarily tasteful). No, you are not going to learn the trick from me. I do not care how much "in the spirit" gift giving happens to be this holiday season; the secret key to that Yule Party is worth more then I am.
No one god or goddess was hosting the party (although I heard there was a former Kingpriest acting as bartended). But it was quickly obvious that everyone was having a great time adding their own special "touches" to the evening. Sargonnas, surprisingly enough, provided the sacrifices, and subsequently the hors d'oeuvres, for the evening's entertainment and dining. Apparently, there was a small horde of unfortunate minotaur who recently died with the distinction of not being in their gods "good graces". Morgion moved from social circle to social circle, trying to be as friendly as possible (with a cleric trailing behind him the whole evening, administering broad-spanning disease-curing potions). Hiddukel was the jolliest man present, with a hearty laugh and a black sack stuffed fill of toys and other gifts. I never did find out what was up with the red winter get-up with white fur trim that the fat god sported. Chemosh had shown up with a guest, which shocked most of the guests present and who he paid all his attentions to the entire evening. Obviously human (I thought mortals were not supposed to be invited to these things), she was a red-haired strumpet in some sort of black and red leather number. Quite the head-shaker, to say the least. I hope he did not pay too much for her services for the evening, however; he could do better. Nuitari, on the other hand, seemed to be making much of his lack of a date, instead spending the evening trying (badly) to steal away everyone else's female escort. Chemosh was…unamused…at Nuitari's attempt on the red-head. Zeboim was mysteriously absent from the festivities, but I came to understand there was a sailing ship somewhere north of Kalaman that had forgotten to invite her to their Yuletide celebration that evening and she had left early to "crash" their party.
Ouch.
Well, I ended my Saturday night tour of the Yuletide parties of the Gods, having fully experienced my "perk" for being a Raistlin. As a concluding note to the readers, I trust that none of the above bears any resemblance to your family's holiday gatherings.
Happy Yule.
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