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 bluish black leather-bound book to an Aesthetic standing by you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Lyrra' scribed in light white ink.
As you glance down at the page you read..
From the pages of Lyrra's book..
Author: Lyrra
Date: Sat Nov 14 06:11:23 2009
Subject Lyrra Leaves Home
Lyrra Creekplash left home at the tender age of seventeen. Of course, to say left home is very relative, since most kender have left home for extended stretches before they can
even walk. Lyrra, when she said that she left home, just meant that that was when she left without intending to go back anytime soon.
Lyrra's parents were farmers outside of Kendermore: at least, they were farmers during those rare seasons when they remembered to harvest the disorganized patches of muddled
vegetables they called their crops and bring them to the free-for-all of the Kendermore marketplace. But most of the time they were distracted by some pressing journey or
another and the vegetables were left to either rot in the fields, be eaten by rabbits, or be pilfered by the small clan of gully dwarves living in the muddy, brambly ravine
adjacent to the Creekplash household. Kender of the soil they were nonetheless, and Lyrra grew up with a great appreciation for the stuff, often covered head to toe in it after a day exploring the ravine with her filthy neighbors.
One day, Lyrra was exploring in a rural pub a few miles down the road from the Creekplash farmstead -- The Blight and Weevil, it was called. She was happily rifling through the
possessions of the bargoers, and picking up anything that looked interesting the inebriated did not take very good care of their things, after all, and she just wanted to
make sure they didn't lose anything really fascinating.
She was just acquiring a really cool fold-up hunting knife from a hulking farmhand when the bartender beckoned her over. She skipped happily to the bar, hoping he was about to
give her something good - or praise her for taking such good care of the drunks.
"This isn't the first time you've been in here, kender," growled the bartender. "You live near here?"
"Why, yes!" Lyrra said proudly. "I live in the farmhouse just down the road!"
The bartender seemed to be cursing under his breath. Lyrra wondered why.
"Listen..." The bartender's tone suddenly became conspiratorial. Lyrra clambered up onto a barstool and leaned in to listen. This must be important! she thought. "You are
a very special kender. You got, um, let's see...eyes that are a special color, and you got that birthmark." He pointed to a mole she'd always had on her upper arm. "Do you know what that means?"
Lyrra shook her head. "No, what?"
"It means that you're, uh, the chosen one! Yeah, that's it. You've got to go on a quest!"
"Wow!" Lyrra breathed. "I didn't know that about me. What do I have to do?"
"You have to go away, far, far away, and, uh..." He thought for a moment. Lyrra fidgeted impatiently. Surely he couldn't have forgotten something this important! "Find
me the feathers of a mutterbird. You know what that is?"
"A mutterbird?" She stroked her chin, poring over the lore of the natural world that she had gleaned from her time exploring the ravine and the surrounding woods. "No idea!"
"It's a huge bird. Size of a darned pony. It's got, uh, horns on its back. It can't fly. It's brown with big yellow eyes. And it can kill ya!" His voice grew soft and grave.
"Wow! I'd like to see one! A bird with horns!"
"That's right. And it's, um, it's so dangerous that you have to go steal its feathers and bring 'em here. If it doesn't have its feathers it won't be so dangerous anymore. The feathers are poisonous."
Lyrra frowned. "Are you pulling my leg?"
"Of course not! Why would I?"
"Well, then, if I'm the chosen one," she said, hopping off the barstool, "I'd better go off on my quest! I'll just go home and pack some things. Thanks for letting me know!"
And so she left, taking some of the silverware and the bartender's dagger with her. She'd need it when she faced that dangerous mutterbird, of course - he'd understand.
Read More
He states simply 'You might start with that one.. or you could take a look at the latest story..'
The Latest Entry
The Rising Tower: Pt. 2
by Wani, posted on Sat Jun 7 08:40:46 2025.
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
Astinus says '
There are 37 authors starting with the letter L
who have stories in the Palanthas library.'
\n
