An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Bromen.

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 leaflet on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Bromen' scribed in light yellow ink.

Author:  Bromen
Date    Fri Dec  3 06:32:20 2001

Subject Goblins!



A piercing light stabbed into his eyes, forcing him to slam them shut with a
grimace. The aching in his head had dulled to a dull throbbing, with only an
occasional sharp piercing that lanced through his skull with a fire's edge.

With an agonizing slowness, he forced his lids to part, the light creasing his
mind though as something long forgotten. As the hazy blur began to form into
an image, he became aware of a nauseating stench that was threatening to force
his bereft stomach to attempt yet another purge.

After the sensation passed, a vague awareness began to reestablish itself in
his mind...

He had been crouched on a bluff overlooking the gates to Thorbardin...
Something of great importance, what.. was it. A wash of pain overtook him.
With a steely grimace he fought the red haze.

All was dark, yet his eyes open. Gradually his eyes adjusted to the lack of
light, nightfall had come.

Goblins! That was it, goblins he recollected the bluff again. Campfires
burning, the stench of goblinkin, the army ready to move toward his beloved
Palanthas..

He recalled the cracking of a twig behind him, a guttural voice... Turning, he
had glimpsed a huge form towering over him, the light of his lord Solinari had
illuminated the terrible face of his attacker Then a blinding flash and
darkness...

"I must get back to warn them, if it isn't already too late..." he whispered
to himself.

Shoving the putrid corpse off his prone form, he recognized the face of the
stench through the carnage... "Dear lords, Pandrogas my old friend... You
weren't as lucky." he winced.

How long have I laid here in death's cold embrace? he pondered.

I must return to warn them...

He crawled his way out of the gulch with a shudder and quietly crawled to the
edge of the bluff. Below him, the campfires long gone, a stillness held the
air.

Fumbling through his pouches he finds the small glass ball and removed it.
Uttering the words, 'xafe ay candusqarr'. A small distortion to his senses and
he stands before a glassy pool.

"Home, what a sight for these sore eyes." he mutters.
"Now to find Kestren, I must warn him."

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 sighs as he recants 'We saved 879 books from Ansalon from before the great Cataclysm through today.'