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 leather bound tome with glowing glyphs to an Aesthetic standing by you. You note the spine bears the word 'Krullaby' scribed in glowing maroon ink. As you glance down at the page you read..
From the pages of Krullaby's book..
Author: Krullaby Date: Tue Sep 16 13:56:23 2014 Subject Krullaby, not your average Kender
Krullaby shook his head in disgust, watching some of his kindred. All his life, he was told about Wanderlust, the period of wandering and growing, that kenders do when they get old enough. It signifies a time that a young kender was ready to begin his lifelong journey. The problem is that he has never experienced any desire to go wander aimlessly around the countryside. His true wish was to learn how to use a sword. Well not just any sword, his sword. The young kender would secretly watch the Solamnic knights practicing against each other, their sharp blades a blur as each attack was miraculously parried and riposted. One day after all the training finished for the day, Krullaby saw something shiny lying on the ground. It was a short sword, its blade twisted. Amazed at his good fortune, the kender found a scrap of leather and hung the weapon at his hip. Returning to his home, Krullaby was soon greeted by cackles and hooting. Look, there goes Krullaby, a knight wannabe. His sword isnt even a proper weapon, so bent that it might skewer himself. Hiding the sword under his bed, he prayed to the gods for someone who might fix his blade. But time passed and Krullaby never wore the sword again. When he was deemed ready, like a obedient son, he joined Wanderlust clan, trying his best to fit in and make his family proud. The day that he joined was indeed memorable. The clan house, if you could call it that, was empty and full of twists and turns. Within minutes, Krullaby was hopelessly lost. It was as if he never got the cleaver gene - he was clueless at solving riddles - perhaps in his previous life he was born a blond. Yelling loudly until his throat was sore, Krullaby couldnt find a soul who would help him. Blushing with embarrassment and humiliation, he could only imagine what the other kenders would say when they find out that he couldnt even find a way out of the clan house. Krullaby could almost see the look of disappointment in his fathers eyes. Praying to all the gods to release him, the kender feel into a deep sleep. The next day, the kender woke to the sounds of voices. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Krullaby dropped his chin in astonishment. The gods had heard him and granted his wish. Wandering around the town aimlessly, he heard the sound of hammering up ahead. As he drew closer he could see the sign - Ammal Broadcrest - I repair anything. Krullaby entered the door, the heat from the forge was intense, even from the doorway. In a loud voice, Master, would you help me? Just when the kender was ready to yell even louder, the hammering stopped and the old man turned to the door, facing Krullaby, the keen pale blue eyes seemingly taking in every detail of the kender. In a loud but not unpleasant voice, Ammal asked, How may I help a young kender? Your kind doesnt usually venture into my shop. Krullaby pulled his twisted sword out from his pack, laying it down before the repairer. Master, could you fix my sword? I found it and would hope to learn to use it properly. The elderly Master took the sword into his scarred hands. Well, the blade is twisted but made of good metal. I could remake the sword for you. Now stand properly. Let me measure you. Krullaby stood in the best imitation of the fighting stance of Solamnic Knights, but felt as ackward as a newborn colt. Ammal didnt say anything though, but his eyes never seemed to miss any detail. The sword is too heavy for you. I will shorten the blade, reforming the grip to fit your smaller hands. Then Master Ammal shook his head. Well the Knights or those Dragon Army types wont take anyone like you. No offense, but you arent trained yet and their gear would drown you. Sighing deeply, the kender nodded in agreement, not saying anything in reply. But then Master Ammal continued, But there are other opportunities for someone with determination and willing to work hard. Return here in a fortnight. Your sword will be done. In the mean time, go explore the town. Check out the docks and shops. There might be openings in the Mercenaries or Mariners. Offering a prayer of thanks to the gods, Krullaby began to explore Palanthas, searching for the next chapter in his lifes journey.
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He states simply 'You might start with that one.. or you could take a look at the latest story..'
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Before her recent voyage across the strange sea had brought her here, Wani's life was one of recovery from earlier tra(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
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