Elminster by Cherish Holdomen
[This text doesn't approach the wizard Elminster with the near-fanatical affection many scholars lay at the feet of his legend. It seems to condemn mealy-mouthed assertions of Elminster's greatness. Take this passage from Chapter Six:] I spoke to a serving girl at a roadside tavern in the boonies of the Sword Coast. I told her I was researching Elminster. Who was Elminster? Well, he was this astonishing figure in the arcane community. He'd shed the blood of the world's most cunning villains like Manshoon of the Zhentarim, shared his bed with a Goddess, and inspired hundreds of magic-wielders to explore themselves, their craft, widen the scope of their ambitions. She nodded politely. I pressed her. Had she truly not heard of Elminster? 'Miss,' she said. 'Aside from random drinkers in here, I know eight people. Nine including my dog, Binky. Those were nice little stories you told, but what has this Elminster to do with the price of butter?'