The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Fjara.

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 leather bound tome on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Fjara' scribed in purple ink.


Author:    Fjara          
Date:      Sat Oct 24 15:52:51 2015
Subject     Background.

Nordmaar. I hate Nordmaar. It's remote, wild, moist. Disgusting. Unfortunately for me, thats where I was born, in that humid mess populated by superstitious barbarians. Everything about that place was wrong. One of three daughters, in a family of seven children, childhood was constant struggle, against my siblings, with the land around us, with what I was supposed to be rather than what I really was. I hated every moment of it. I hated the jungles. I hated my family. I hated life itself. It was that first time in North Keep where I realized there could be something else. Why my tribe had decided to pay a visit, I cannot even remember, but the city... pitiful in comparison to any real city, but to me it was the greatest thing I had ever laid eyes on. Something so grand, so massive and imposing, could exist in a place like this? The stone buildings, covered in jungle vine, the gardens, I had seen nothing of the sort in my life, it was nothing like the simple structures our tribe lived in. The things I saw that day, it wasnt just hunters and trappers and other lowly men like my father, instead there were scholars and soldiers and engineers and all other manner of real people, doing important things. This was something foreign to my small tribe, foreign to me until this point. My life didnt have to be a short trip between childhood, marriage, and children, there could be something more. Look at these people here... I could have a life, my own life, something besides the dirty, brutish, and short existence of a common nomad. I could learn. It was there that the thirst for knowledge began, I had to know more, of the outside world, of the past, how and why things worked, I needed to know everything. It was a daunting task, nigh impossible really, the people of my tribe were, are, simple. They cared only about their petty things, none of them had any desire to know anything beyond their simple lives. Not even my own brothers and sisters, who grew more and more distant as I tried every avenue to learn more, cared about true knowledge. I attempted to question everything, trying my best to learn to read with what little there was available in such a place as my birthland. Eventually, it had to end. My father was sick of it, this constant questioning, this unwillingness to work towards the familial good. No, he decided, it was time I took my place as proper member of the family, and this, all this was to end. No more reading, no more pestering the elders of times long past, I was to work and marry. That was it, his word was law, that is how things would be. How quickly he tried to marry off his eldest daughter, and how hard he worked to make sure I knew my place. That I was learning to cook and skin rather than learning something of real academic value. It was somewhat surprising, how fast a sutor was actually found. While I may have been an outcast among my peers, there were still only so many young women to be married off. But it would not be. I would not allow it, no, as soon as my father introduced my potential new husband, the decision was made, I was going to leave. I had been to North Keep but a handful of times in my whole life, and I was young, but this was not the life I was meant for. So that very night, supplies were gathered, and away I went. No goodbyes, nothing to my family. I did not care of their life, I had a greater goal, I need to know more, and I would never get the opportunity in a place like this. Abandoning my family was the easy part, the hard part was getting to North Keep without trouble, I had grown up in these jungles, but that didnt mean it wasnt still dangerous. Bandits, errant hunters, wild animals. The journey alone was not a comfortable one, but all it did was steel my resolve. This would be my new life.

Author: Fjara Date: Sat Oct 24 15:57:19 2015 Subject Background. Continued.

When I finally emerged from the Sahket, a week later, my supplies almost entirely gone, I was once again overwhelmed of the sight of North Keep. The grand stone fortress, still covered in jungle plants but unyielding and towering above the foliage was a beautiful sight. This it how it should be, one shouldnt live with nature, one should dominate nature. Our place was at the top, and those who did not realize it we're fools. There was order here. Gardens dotted the city, fruit farmed in an orderly fashion rather than gathered from its natural jungle home. Buildings of stone, atop pillars, watching over the jungle foliage below. Yes, this place was symbolic of man's dominion over the natural world, and it would be her new home. Of course, suddenly uplifting one's life and moving from a nomad tribe to a city was not an easy proposition. Where would she live, how would she feed herself? It was a daunting task, but one I relished, it was the beginning of my new life. The work I found was the lowest of low, disgusting, relegated to the very edges of the city. Tanning, taking the skins brought in by the nomad tribesmen, soaking them, cleaning them of any flesh or fat, and then finally stripping the skins of fur. It was the most foul smelling experience I had ever been part of, for weeks I would sometimes have to step away just to vomit from the disgusting process. But, it was the only task I could find where I could put whatever limited skills I had to use. Skinning was something her people were known for, and she had no other marketable skills. It did its job. While every day she returned to her shared hovel dirty, and reeking, I was able to survive, stashing away whatever tiny pittance I could to further my studies. Learning to read was hard, but over time, I managed it, finding what books I could to teach me new and interesting things. But all of it paled in comparison to her discovery of magic. Sure, there had been stories, tales of sorcerers clad in colorful robes who could bend the world to their will, but I had never seen one, who knew if the superstitious people I had been born too were just making things up or not. But then, I saw one. Looking back now, it was nothing the most basic of apprentice couldnt do, but the first time I saw it my eyes were opened to a whole new realm of possibility. I wanted to know more; I -needed- to know more, it became my all-consuming thought. Every moment I wasnt working or sleeping was spent trying to learn more about magic. A mostly fruitless process. That is until a mage taking residence in North Keep took notice. By all accounts, as a mage, he was nothing special. A simple man named Skiol, born and raised in Pentar, he had passed the test, sure, but was content to live a fairly simple life in his homeland of Nordmaar, keeping up with what basic studies he had. To me though, meeting him for the first time, he was the most impressive man I had ever met. His teachings were the most basic of necessities, and fitting them in with the rest of my duties was challenging, but, the man made sure I could read and write and that I knew the basic function of the wizards of high sorcery. It was pure luck on both our parts that I had an actual aptitude for magic. My time in North Keep would be relatively short, less than two years. Most of it spent working and scraping by, but a small part of it spent discovering my gift. It was Skiol who informed me that I should leave, head west and eventually find a real master to apprentice under and eventually take the test myself. In what amounted to the greatest act of kindness I had ever been part of, Skiol made it possible. He escorted me to Pentar, the great floating market stunned me, and it was there that I truly began to realize how grand the world was outside of my tiny backwards homeland. Hundreds of boats, large and small, forming the greatest market I could even conceive of, and of course, there were the great sailing ships coming and going to other ports all across Ansalon. Skiols final gift was a small package. Inside was what would become my first spellbook, basic provisions for a trip west, and a handful of gold to help me survive. The trip itself was also paid for Skiol. I made my promise to him that I would return some day after I had passed the test, but I knew already it was a lie, nothing would bring me back to this gods-forsaken land I was born in. And then, I was off. Westward, to Palanthas. The trip itself was something I had never imagine I would get to take part in. The sea travel made me sick, that was unfortunate, but, at the same time, it was amazing. A great sailing vessel, taking me to a place I could barely even conceive of. Madness. When I could concentrate I studied, keeping to myself as much as I could. One of the few things I had parted with when I had left was a small knife, and I kept it on me at all times. No need to trust these sailors too much. But, when not studying or hiding, and not being sick, I did my best to watch the coastline. It was far away, further away that I could really even guess at, but it would be made out in the distance. The forests of Nordmaar eventually faded to the plains of Nordmaar, and as days passed, it became great wastes where it looked as if nothing could live. After days of travel, she finally saw it, Palanthas. She couldnt believe her eyes, the white marble buildings, the docks busier than even Pentar, it was nearly unbelievable that something so large could even exist. Stepping foot onto the docks of Palanthas gave her pause, there would be no going back now, and the swarm of people overwhelmed her...

Author: Fjara Date: Tue Dec 22 00:46:10 2015 Subject Fjaras Test

Volath ran my test to become a magus of the conclave, it is seven pages so I just edited it in google docs; https://docs.google.com/document/d/1U1dvQFGTdNqXMAQjFYPJQREHovJwVC0KwJjnb6GypMA/edit?usp=sharing Thank you for running my test Takhisis and Volath.

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