The Great Library of Palanthas

Astinus' Office

Dominating the center of this room is a massive birch desk. Legend claims this desk has supported the thousands of volumes of history Astinus has recorded. A large pot of ink, a container of sharpened quills, and a candelabra complete the desks decorations. Small windows line the room, allowing light to trickle in and gently illuminate the entire room. A comfortable couch rests against the west wall. Tapestries hang on the walls between the windows. Shelves line the walls, filled with tomes of the more recent records of heroes and villians upon the face of Krynn.

The librarian notices you aren't reading anything... Astinus hands a large tome gilt in gold to an Aesthetic standing by you. You note the spine bears the word 'Elsinora' scribed in faded black ink. As you glance down at the page you read..

From the pages of Elsinora's book..


Author: Elsinora Date: Sun Mar 22 22:01:45 2009 Subject Finding her Balance - Part 1 Many years ago... The autumn air had a tinge of summer to it as Elsinora of the Silvanesti noble house H'Chano walked through her family's gardens, the pride and joy of all elves of her lineage. Though there were rumblings of worldly distress outside of her homrland's borders, nothing seemed amiss in the kingdom, and thus, nothing was wrong with the world as far as Elsinora was concerned. While in the midst of her walk, Elsinora noticed three or four of the fragrant flowering bushes in the middle of the garden had yet to lose their petals, an occurrence which released the pleasant scents for whcih the plants were famed. With a flip of her hand and only a mere thought, she stirred up a quick gust of breeze to rattle the buds,sending the petals to the dirt, and releasing the soft, sweet smell into the air around her. She chuckled. Though many would scoff at the most minor of arcane spells, she knew deep in her soul that no spell was too minor to be useful or appreciated. Besides, there were so many areas of magic considered dangerous, those of her kingdom should always be happy to employ any arcana allowed to them. With that borderline-scandalous though in mind, Elsinora turned to leave the enclosure, when she noticed the strangest thing: All of the trees were oozing somthing red. Indeed, it looked like the trees were weeping blood. She feared her thoughts of unpure magic brought about the displeasure of her god, Solinari; this perversion of her soul was being shown in the perversion of her family's precious garden. As she began backing away from the horrid scene, she bumped into a tree outside of the garden, near her family's manor. It, too, was weeping blood. At this point, she heard a great clamoring from all around the area; dozens upon dozens of gasps and horrified shouts spoke to her that this was not just an incidental occurrence in her garden, but that it happened elewhere, perhaps throughout the entire kingdom of the Silvanesti. Rushing to her mentor's abode, she pounded on the door, begging him to come out and help explain to her what was transpiring. When finally he did open the door, she saw a tired and wearied look in his ancient eyes. "Elsi, my child, this is not any of our doing, but the fault of the humans. I am sure this is a test put upon us by the pantheon of goodly gods. We must endure this horrific vision if our elven nation is to remain pure and goodly. Ignore the blood-weeping trees, and pray that Soinari knows what is right." Though her mentor's words spoke sense, a deeper welling of her soul cried out to her to find out if Solinari would truly allow this to happen to his beloved people. Elsinora rushed back home and began weeping at her misfortune to live in a time when the faith of elves would be so challenged. She knew she could do something to staunch this horrendous happening, but it would mean she believed that Solinari wasn't looking out for the Silvanesti nation. Years ago, when she realized her magical talents, she had come across a wall mirror which showed no reflection. She knew it was some sort of artifact which deserved further study, but she knew she was not experienced enough to do what it would take to find out just what it could be used for. In her desperate state, Elsinora knew this was the moment when she would have to trust in herself that she could save her people, even if it meant skirting the border of permissible magic. Using or even exploring an unknown device like this may be seen by some as the behavior of an elf refusing traditional magical use. Still, she could not believe Solinari, or any goodly god, would allow such bad things to happen to good elves. Grasping the mirror, she spoke only the words of an identifying spell, hoping to find out its nature without activating the item. As he hands passed over the mirror's surface, a duplicate hand appeared out of the blackness. Pausing in the midst of her spell, Elsinora's concentration flagged, the hand reached out for hers. And she vanished, pulled into its depths, days before the Cataclysm was to happen. (to be concluded...) Author: Elsinora Date: Sun Mar 22 22:08:07 2009 Subject Finding her Balance - Part 2 Several months ago... A peddlar in Solace was looking for someone to purchase a strange painting of an elven woman. Though he had it in his possession for only a short while, he could not quite remember how that had come to pass. But every time he looked at the image in the portrait, it seemed as though she aged. He could have sworn that at one time, the hair had been as jet black as the background; now, it was shot through with strands of grey. An older man, his brown travelling robes barely concealing the soft black robes underneathe, approached the man's good, not expecting to find anything of value. With a wave of his hands and a few murmured words, the portrait began to give off a faint golden glow. The man's eyes widened in amazement. "Peddlar, how much for this item, this painting?" "Oh, well, that's hard to say," the peddlar replied, "it's such a rare example of the great artist Yan Vinquette. You must know of him; he's the most respected artist in all of Solamnia. Surely, I can't let it go for less than 5 steel." "I will take your offer," sneered the man as he handed the coins to him. As soon as the object was in his hands he added, "but know this: you just parted with an object worth fifty times that to any mage worth his component bag." Leaving the peddlar speechless, the man left the bazaar, relishing in his good fortune over having found such a powerful object. After he returned to his room within the Inn of the Last Home, he placed the framed item on the bed, and spoke a few protective words to ward off the cursed trapping effects he knew such a device must carry as one of its enchantments. With the protective spells laid acrss it like a fine casting net, he spoke the spidery words of magic which would expose to him the true nature of this item's powers. He was not disappointed. As he passed his hands over the painting, the image began to stir; first, the woman blinked; then, she began to move her head around. Soon, she was looking at the border of the painting, examining them from the inside as if they were walls keeping her in - as well they were. The man, whose name has been lost to the ages, was taken aback. He though the image was part of the magical snare he detected, not a living being. He was about to cease his spellcasting and set up a new layer of protection when the elven woman began pounding on the painting from the inside. Each impact of her fist caused the image to shake and bend outward. Soon, cracks appeared and what can only be described as dark orange light poured out through the cracks. The man, too stunned by his discivery to do much more, sat agape as the cracks formed into a spiderweb of dark orange energy. Finally, the surface could take it no longer as is buckled and blew out into a million pieces. These coalesced around the black robe mage, and, despite all of his previous protections, ensnared and dragged him into the magical mirror as well. Elsinora, after having spent centuries locked into a slivered portal between Krynn and the Abyss, was free at last. Hearing the torments of the Abyss behind her, while helplessly watching the events of the world in front of her, had forever marred her soul. No longer was she the pure servant of the goodly gods, but she could not endure the pain and savagery inflicted by the evil gods. But she could not help but be in awe of the power wielded by bith the dark and light sides of arcanum. She knew she could never content herself with just one-third of the magic she knew was out there waiting to be used. She had been reborn, still relishing the thrill of magic, knowing that Solinari, if he had been testing the elven people, had done so witout realizing that only the most goodly devoted could have done so, while damning and dooming the majority of mortals to death. Elsinora had learned through her torments in the Abyssal mirror that magic wielded only for goodly would never be for the greater good: only a true balance between goodly and evil magic could ensure that the majority of mortals would be saved in this world. So as she left the Inn of the Last Home, she turned north, away from her elven homeland, and towards the local temple of the only one who is dedicated to the balance she knows is so vital to the survival of magic: Lunitari.

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He states simply 'You might start with that one.. or you could take a look at the latest story..'

The Latest Entry

Arrival. by Ayasana, posted on Sat Feb 16 00:36:09 2019.

Our caravan reached the ridge over-looking Sanction just before sunrise. Fitting, I suppose. I rode on ahead with my ne(read more)....

The Storytellers of Ansalon, The DragonLance MUD

Astinus points to the massive wall of books behind him and bids you to make a selection.


Authors: All|A|B|C|D|E|F|G|H|I|J|K|L|M|N|O|P|Q|R|S|T|U|V|W|X|Y|Z

Eban
Echor
Egam
Ehre
Eiron
Ekkana

Eldaron
Eleena
Elhonna
Elidar
Elmdor
Elsinora

Elyania
Emilio
Emla
Erol
Erthos
Eskendale

Etilyn
Evaan

Astinus says 'There are 20 authors starting with the letter E who have stories in the Palanthas library.'
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