The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Ardor.

A little gully dwarf runs by and says 'Wordwrap Off 65 80.'
The gully continues 'Eyes hurt? Turn Color OFF!! (regular story dates)

Astinus says 'Enter the main library here to view only the author list.'
Astinus gently places a small volume on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Ardor' scribed in red ink.

Author:    Ardor          
Date:      Fri Jan 20 00:59:52 2017
Subject     A Night of Neutrality

Ardor sat at a desk in the lower parts of the red robes dormatory within the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth. Quill in hand and a newly bound book on the desk, he began to write. Various notes flooded onto the pages quickly. Experiences in the Conclave, conversations with each of the orders within the tower, taking care to record their conversations with accuracy. He dipped his quill again and kept writing, slowing briefly for a slowly forming cramp in his hand, which after a moment subsided and the speed picked up. More notes and diagrams of magic formations and formulas he had learned flooded the pages now. He was trying to remember all the details from the last few days, finally getting time to sit and write down his thoughts, but they were starting to leave him. He stopped writing and breathed a deep sign. The memories were all but gone now. He glanced down at the pages, content with the notes he had recorded but aggrivated more by the notes that he was not able to record. Part of the price he paid for his magic. He closed the book revealing a black bound cover with silver runes etched into it. The most noteable rune was the number "1" etched at the bottom of the symbols, possibly indicating the first book in a soon-to-be written series. Ardor shifted in his seat. The poorly made chair that outfitted his own personal room within the tower had started to put a strain on his muscles. Standing up, he stretched his arms out, his red robes shifting around slightly. The robes had been given to him to replace his older robes after joining the order. Representing neutrality within the realms, the red robes were a deep red, almost that of a blood hue. His hair fluffed as a breeze blew through the room from the open window. He looked around quietly as he began to collect his thoughts. After taking a moment, he went to his bed, the one piece of furniture in the room that wasn't of poor craftsmenship, or if it had been, it was fitted with comfortable bedding at least. He pulled a small black book out of a hidden pocket within his robes. It was etched with silver and red runes that had a faint glow to them. Opening the book, he began to study the words within and he settled down for the night. The next few hours before bed were to be spent memorizing the precise words and inflections needed to create the magic and powers he had come to the Conclave to master.

Author: Ardor Date: Fri Jan 20 13:30:54 2017 Subject A Day in Garnet

The city of Garnet was bustling with people. To and fro they moved about buying good for the day, gossiping about the local situations, and just going about daily life. It was an average day, sun shown in the sky with a few clouds, on occasion blocking the rays and cooling the air briefly. Ardor was casually taking a walk throught he town, on an errand for some spell components and various other magic odds and ends. Clutching his staff and using it as a walking stick, he walked slowly down the merchants concourse, peering into the shop's windows hoping to catch a glimpse of some rare odds and ends that might pique his interest. To his dismay, today was just like it seemed, a very normal day. He sighed and continued walking. After what seemed like only a few moments, Ardor glanced up, realizing he was lost in his thoughts. He looked around briefly and realized he had no idea where he was. The roads in this part of town were unfamiliar and even the residents had started to thin out. It was about mid day and the clouds rolled over the sun, blocking the light. As the shadows began to form around the buildings, Ardor peered into them thinking something wasn't right. "Oculoinfra Zzur", he whispered as he reached into a pouch pulling some dust out and sprinkled it in the air. The spell came to him quickly and without hesitation having devoted time to the memorization. The dust picked up by the wind and blew around revealing a faint red glow in the shadow. There was someone there! Hoping that the soon-to-be ambusher wouldn't recognize or notice his casting, Ardor moved his hand slowly to his pouches searching for the right component. As his fingers found what they were looking for, he palmed it carefully trying not to make any noticeable movement. The glow shifted slightly. Ardor smiled, realizing his attacker hadn't noticed the spell or that Ardor knew he was there. The thief struck quickly. He snuck up behind Ardor thinking he had the edge. He raised his dagger towards his target back and then heard a slight whisper from the mage. Unfortunately, he caught the end of the spell too late. He had been noticed! Ardor whispered quickly as the thief snuck in. The move was swift and he was grateful he took care to utilize the spell a fellow mage of the Conclave had told him about. The sulfur was released quickly and his hand that was tucked between his arm aimed at the thief as the spell went off. The bolt of lightning rang out so loud and fast. The thief writhed in agony having been shocked and sent flying across the road. As the thief hit the ground, the bolt arced and struck the thief again. Unfortunately, the thief was unable to scream out a second time. The bolt had taken the last of the victims lifeforce from him, leaving a corpse in its place. Ardor turned to face the attacker, breathing heavily. The magic had taken its toll on him and he realized quickly that the spell was slightly more than he was prepared for. He reached down slowly and picked up his staff, holding himself up with it now as his energy continued to drain quickly. He bowed his head slightly, trying to regain control of his breathing. After a few seconds, his breath had become more regular. His hair, having fallen around his face, hid his features. A small smile could barely be seen from beneath it.

Author: Ardor Date: Sun Jan 22 20:12:17 2017 Subject Training Attempt (1/4)

Solinari and Lunitari were in high sanction creating a beautiful silhoutte of the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth. The sky was free of clouds and the stars were visible in the night sky. The wind stirred on occasion and created a chill in the air. Ardor was pacing in his room within the tower on this night. He was moving around slowly with his spellbook in hand. The silver and red etchings shimmered in the light coming from the window. Since joining the Conclave, Ardor had come to understand more about magic and had been taught about some very interesting spells. The amount he had been discovering and his own ventures into the arts had made him yearn for more. But tonight was not a night of successes. Several books Ardor had been given to learn from had been beyond his comprehension. He struggled with the proper inflections and memorizing them seemed next to impossible. The advanced teachings held within the bindings were out of his grasp. The frustration had set in him so much, he now studied his own spellbook to relax. A breeze caught his face, calming his nerves. "It is only a minor set back." he told himself. It was only a matter of time before the knowledge in the tomes would be his and he could move on to more advance teachings. Magic had always been in him, but time was always needed to master new spells. His patience would have to be strong. Grinning slightly, he closed his spellbook, pocketed it into a hidden pocket in his robes and headed for the door.

Author: Ardor Date: Sun Jan 22 20:17:02 2017 Subject Training Attempt (2/4)

Walking the halls of the tower always helped take his mind off his work. Every day was a new adventure in the halls. There seemed to be a slight incline in new faces and always new hallways and rooms to discover. Ardor always knew his limits on areas he could and couldn't explore, but testing his boundries was always enjoyable to him. Heading down the hallway just before the library, he paused momentarily. There was some familiar whispers of incantations and casting coming from behind a door nearby. Thinking back to his brief walkthrough of the tower, he remembered a room where mages could practice their arts through the use of a magical contraption. Being able to take the strength of any spells, absorb it, and not be damaged, it was a great way for mages to work new magics and help them gain control of new spells and even strengthen old ones. Ardor shook his head briefly, realizing he was now being stared at by three mages in white. All three were giving him an odd look, wondering what realm he had disappeared to. Even h had lost track of time. Ardor acknowledged all the mages with a slight nod which was returned by the mages who still looked a little puzzled. They exchanged small talk for a few seconds and then they were on their way. One of the mages looked back at Ardor once, briefly, then hurried along to catch up to the other two who were now talking about different spell components again.

Author: Ardor Date: Sun Jan 22 20:25:09 2017 Subject Training Attempt (3/4)

Ardor, a bit annoyed by his own mental wanderlust, proceeded into the room the mages came from. He hadn't really spent time here since he'd come to stay at the tower. Pushing the door open slowly, he peered inside to find an empty room. Pushing the door open fully, he looked around. The room was spacious. A giant balcony was off to the side letting the elements into the room. There was a small pool of water to the side as well. None of this was odd compared to the one thing missing from the room, the device that mages practiced on. Ardor walked into the room and stood there in dismay. How did mages practice in here? Using magic on other mages was strictly forbidden in the tower. Differences were set aside while mages remained in the tower so all grudges were left at the door. Sighing, he turned to the door to notice it had been shut! He hadn't even heard it move slightly after he entered, so when did it happen? Turning back around, Ardor was startled to find the room was no longer empty. In the center stood a man. Well, it appeared to be a man. He was a ghostly figure. His skin was pale white with blonde hair. He did not appear sickly for how pale he was, and for a minute Ardor wondered if he belonged to this plane. Then something struck him. The man was transparent! Ardor saw the balcony through the man. Trying to think quickly, Ardor's thoughts were answered as the man spoke. "You are correct, apprentice mage. I am not alive. Nor am I dead. I am a construct here to serve the tower." "You must be the 'device' they spoke of," Ardor spoke, hesitantly. "I am such." The man nodded his head slightly. "I feel no pain nor do I feel remorse. I am here simply as a vessel to absorb that which you send at me to practice your sorcery. Young mages like yourself come here often to help develop and work on their spells." Ardor stared at the device briefly then realized the opportunity he had. A "device" that could not be destroyed. A way to master spells that have been plaguing him. An opportunity to really "play" with magic, something he'd had very little time or ability to do. He could not pass this up.

Author: Ardor Date: Sun Jan 22 20:31:03 2017 Subject Training Attempt (4/4)

This must be tested, he thought. Without considering the device, he grabbed a pebble from his pouch and uttered words of magic while the pebble turned pink and headed straight for the device with intense momentum. It hit! The magic missile connect in the arm of the device. The damage was done and then immediately, as if nothing had happened, the device repaired itself. Ardor's mind exploded with glee. Spell after spell he launched, each one hitting and doing damage, and then just as quickly as the damage was done the device repaired itself. It was only a matter of moments before Ardor realized that he had released all the spells he had memorized at the time. He was panting heavily now. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. He was bent over on the floor, having been weakened by the casting. The cost of the stream of magic was immense. He realized quickly that the excitement had gotten the best of him. Coughing violently, he looked down to see a small bit of blood on the floor. The strain put on by the spells was a little more than he was accustomed to and it had taken its toll on his body. He slumped to the ground, his muscles finally giving out from trying to hold him up. He was still conscious, barely. Knowing he'd need some time to rest, he laid on the floor, panting, letting his body relax. His body was wracked in pain and the sweat was starting to roll into his eyes, stinging them slightly. He closed his eyes trying to relax further. He started to cry, only it wasn't really crying. It took him a few moments to realize that the noise coming from his was actually laughter.

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 mentions 'We have had over 803 storytellers on Ansalon pen their epic stories here for all to read.'