The Great Library of Palanthas
An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.
Stories of Ansalon from the view of Deluvian.
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 brief catalogue on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Deluvian' scribed in unearthly green ink.
Author: Deluvian Date: Mon Aug 5 02:17:56 2019 Subject The Rise of a Renegade
Lightning shattered the coast, overlooking the steep cliffs of the Bay of Branchala in the Lordcity of Palanthas. The night had been long with barely a light in the sky. In the city, people had already gone to bed for the night. Shops had closed hours before and with the weather and the fierce storm that had seemingly come out of nowhere, even the hardiest patrons of the many taverns littering the city proper, sunk warmly close to fires and clutching their meads to their chest in order to shake off the chill. It was not a night for excursion. Except perhaps for one lone soul. Outside the walls, on one of the highest peaks overlooking the bay and the storm sat a figure. His black hair hung tied with a multi colored piece of leather like a wet blanket about his face, which almost shone as bright as Solinari would on a clear night, with how pale and white it was. Pointed ears poked up from amongst his raven hair and green eyes lingered over the bay. He was an elf, a Silvanesti to be exact and for the better part of a month now he had been living in Palanthas. Originally he had left his homeland to travel and learn more about his passions. He was you see a young aspirant then, having demonstrated some thirty years before his almost instinctive talents for the magical arts. But after a while, he found that the teachers of his homeland stifled his talents. He had been regulated to casting minor cantrips and light spells for the nobles. Of course! he had also been immediately dedicated to Solinari! It was the path of the Dark Elf to consider anything otherwise. But this particular elf resented that choice being thrust upon him. He reeled at how closed minded it was to simply dismiss the worship of Lunitari and Nuitari because it didn't fit their ideals. Could they not see that those Gods were the THREE children of Magic. That by focusing on one part of that study and neglecting the others, they were simply closing to themselves a greater path to power... a greater part of the whole? The elf spat water from his mouth as he uttered the words, almost filled with hatred "Fools!" He was then and contemplated his past. Of course he had no wish to be branded a Dark Elf and exiled from his homeland but his lust for power and Magic was too great, and his skill was almost impeccable. His pride however, was not above taking a few hits and so almost 10 years ago he had formulated a plan. He would be the worst and most untalented Aspirant that the Silvanesti had ever seen. He was slow and methodical about it. Misplacing reagents, failing pronunciations. He even went so far as to intentionally miscast a few spells. It wasn't long before nobles started requesting to his many teachers that he did not light their ways, especially when the only thing he was lightning was the occasional bush or his own robes. His teachers, meanwhile were dismayed. How could someone who showed such talent have fallen so far? The elf reveled in the deception and played his part well. Within five years he found himself labeled as one with no talent. He told his teachers that maybe he would be better off telling stories, becoming a minstrel. He even learned how to play the flute such was his ability to quickly pick things up. In the end, he was politely dismissed from school. What his teachers did not know however was that each night, the elf had pursued his studied with all the passion within him that there was to master. He accessed all the books that his teachers had available and stole the ones that were not. It was easy to break through their minor wards, enabling them again when he was done and it was easier than even that to pretend that a rabbit had more talent than he did. It was only when he had run out of the limited knowledge located within Silvanost, that he ensured that he was branded an incompetent. He left the great city the very next day and made sure he was seen, time and time again, playing his flute for patrons at each and every tavern he passed. Within a few months, he made it to Palanthas. TBC
He sat here now, overlooking the bay, soaking wet. His eyes lingered over the city, to the one place he wanted to enter most of all... The Shoikan Grove which housed the Tower of High Sorcery. But he knew that he was not yet ready for that place. He looked up at the sky and smiled. The red flare of lunitari was barely visible from behind the storm clouds and tonight, Solinari was also waning. He knew somewhere up there, Nuitari was waiting as well but he lacked the eyes to see him. One day he would. He would not limit himself to the teachings of one moon though, the way to master magic way to be open to all of it. He bowed his head low in reverence to all three and whispered softly, so only he could hear it. "I worship the magic, and through the magic, I worship you" and with that he pulled a small piece of lambskin from his backpack. With great reverence he pulled a quill and some ink from it and scribed the words 'I MAGIUS' on it, ignoring the wet and the rain. The words began to smoke and the parchment began to burn as he felt the chill of magic course through him. He laughed and stood, throwing off his cloak and tossing the lambskin out over the bay. With another sharp word, lightning launched from his finger tips destroying the floating parchment and hitting the water below. He chuckled and looked up at the sky, knowing that the children understood. He would be branded a Renegade and a Dark Elf but only if he was caught! and that was the key. He was good at not being caught. There would be no flashy displays, no threats to anyone. He would simply learn all he could and surpass even the greatest Archmage in the Conclave. It all hinged on not being caught! Until then he was simply a Silvanesti Minstrel named Deluvian Dusksoul...
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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