The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Cielle.

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 concise treatise on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Cielle' scribed in rich red ink.

Author:    Cielle         
Date:      Fri Sep  1 21:46:39 2017
Subject     Flight

The wagon jerked, snapping her out of a shallow sleep. How long had it been since she had the luxury of a full night's sleep? Long enough. Her senses seemed more dull by the hour as she struggled to keep awake; a dangerous affliction for someone in her situation. She turned her eyes upwards to the sky, judging the time by the positioning of the sun. Just shy of midday, which meant they had about three more hours on the road. "They" was a generous term for this loose band of travelers. It was an amorphous group of people who shared nothing in common besides their general direction of travel, with numbers that ebbed and flowed as some reached their final destinations or others joined for the sake of safety in numbers. No one had looked twice at the half-elf woman who had joined their ranks three weeks past; or at least, none cared enough to strike up a conversation. Which was all the more welcome by her. Over the course of the days she had kept her features hidden deep inside the hood of her traveling cloak, giving no one a reason to remember her. It was one of the first lessons she had learned in her youth: when you want to disappear, find a crowd. She had no other choice but to trust in that wisdom now. Her home was no longer safe, not that it had ever been a sanctuary in the first place, and there was a high likelihood that the bounty on her head was sizable enough to convince a number of former "friends" to search the roads. She had slighted men of means, which meant her pursuers would be that much more motivated, and for longer. The lessons she had learned over the past weeks had been costly, but chief among them had been that there could be no friendship among her kind. She would not be that naive again. With a small shove she pushed herself off the back edge of the open-air wagon, taking to her feet to keep the weariness at bay. As she walked, her eyes instinctively slipped between the people around her, and every few minutes she would turn to assess the road behind. It would be a long three hours, but she had to remain alert. A new city would bring blessed anonymity, and, hopefully, a safe place to sleep.

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 842 books from Ansalon from before the great Cataclysm through today.'