An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Fulgin.

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 giant book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Fulgin' scribed in brilliant purple ink.

Author:           Fulgin
Date    Wed Dec  7 20:28:02 2005
Subject  Anticipation of a meeting..

 Council had concluded and business proceeded as usual.  Time passed.  
And now sitting in the temple of Kiri-Jolith in the Lord City of Kalaman, 
history would come to be told.  Fulgin had spent months in reflection, in 
prayer, seeking the will to finally delve into what he knew must come to 
pass.  Bringing his recitation to a close, he took to his feet once more.  
Bowing his gratitude to the Revered Brother who had kneeled beside him and 
left the temple.  The streets were dark.  Hours ago the city bells had 
tolled, calling an end to the business day, wardering its townsfolk into 
home for their safety.  The pending attack had the city on alert.  The night 
patrol walked thier routes, giving only a nod to the Sword Knight.  Saluting 
had been forbidden for the time being.  Spies could be anywhere, and an 
officer of rank was always a worthy target for any assassin.   
 
Fulgin made his way from the temples soothing call to the city gates.  
There, he glanced over the set guardsmen before heading out in the nights 
air, turning for a grove of spruce trees.  Heeding nothing, no worries of 
his own mortality on his mind.  No.  His mind raced over another subject.  
One which he had put off for far too long.  He walked through the grove to 
its center.  A small meadow among a ring of aged spruce, he nodded to 
himself and finally, reluctantly, reached into his pocket.   
 
In his hand laid a trivial item.  A whistle.  Long and thin, it was no 
conventional whistle.  Almost more of a dog whistle, save the platinum 
casing and small runes that layed lightly etched within.  He pulled it 
close, inspecting it by the moonlight.  He knew every inch of it already.  
It had been in his possession since the High Council had allowed him 
entrance to the Knightly coffers exclusively for its recovery.  Nodding once 
more, acknowledging that it remained as it was when last he examined it, he 
turned his head to the sky.   
 
'Father, guide me..  ', taking a deep breath, he placed the whistle to his 
lips and blew.  The sound, if there truly was any, went unheard by any 
around him, even by himself.  His breathe expended, he lowered the whistle 
and wheeled about, half expecting the cataclysm to begin anew.  Nothing.  No 
fiery mountain.  No goblin hordes.  No sound what so ever.  Fulgin lowered 
his head.  Sadness began to creep over him.  Shame.  Disappointment.  He 
dropped to his knees, his face now in his hands.  He had hoped for too much, 
he thought.  He had placed his faith that she would still be there even 
though his father had moved on.  Minutes passed, changing to hours.  And it 
was there that he finally was overcome by fatigue, and thus he slept.  
Fitful dreams came to pass, of darkness, of bright rays of light which the 
eyes could not focus on.  One dream took hold of him, turned him to the next 
until his senses pulled him back to the land of the woken.  He startled 
awake, unsure of where he was, but knowing that something was wrong.  The 
meadow was still dark.  Too dark, in fact.  No moonlight shone upon the 
grass.  He turned his gaze upward, even as he scrambled to his feet anxious 
to place back against a spruce tree should a fight come to him.  Looking 
skyward he saw darkness.  No moon, no stars, and yet the darkness moved.  It 
seemed to lower itself upon him.  He reached to the medallion around his 
neck, but his grasp missed as the ground shook.  He looked up once more, and 
realized...  He had come.  It had worked.  Joy filled his heart.  He raced 
forward, only to stop short.  Years of training had taught him better 
manners.   
 
Lowering to one knee he said, 'M'lord..  I am Fulgin Pathwarden.  Knight of 
the ' 
 
His words came interrupted.  "I know who you are son of Galen.  I am Ygraine 
as I am sure you are full aware already.  I have known this day would come.  
Though in honesty I knew not which child would call me forth.  " Fulgin 
shivered at the vague mention of his sister.  "Come young Fulgin.  We have 
much to discuss, and I am sure you are full of questions that have waited a 
lifetime for answers.  I come baring your history, as was requested of my by 
your father.  " The dragon extended forth his claw, palm turned towards the 
heavens.  Words of intangible magic passed the silver's lips and in his hand 
appeared a set of books.  Diaries.  The personal journals of Galen 
Pathwarden.  Fulgin took the books carefully, and sat himself upon the 
grass.  He took the first book, placing it upon his lap.  Before opening it 
he looked up once more at the dragon.  Ygraine settled herself within the 
meadow, taking a moment to adjust her tail before looking down at Fulgin.  
Once settled she merely nodded at him, and as he opened the book to its 
first page she said, 'Let us start from the beginning...  ' 
 
(To be continued)  

Author:           Fulgin
Date    Thu Dec  8 21:53:50 2005
Subject  Explanations, Revelations.

 'That is all I know...  , ' the dragon said.  Ygraine shifted her 
weight, rising to stand.  Silver wings raised to the sky sending a shower of 
metallic rays across the enclosed meadow.  Pawing the ground, arching her 
back, she was tired from her lenghty history lesson.   
 
Fulgin finished reading the last page of the book in his lap, and slowly 
closed its cover.  He looked down at the stack beside him of the ones he had 
already been through.  He had spent almost an entire day with Ygraine, 
reading and listening.  Setting the book down atop the others, he too rose 
to his feet.  His back was stiff, his muscles screamed at the strain of such 
a simple movement.  He looked down once more at the journals of his father 
and began a slow pace around the meadow and the dragon.  'I am still left 
with questions.  Alot I have learned today from you, Ygraine.  And for that 
I am in debt.  Your words alone speak the bonds of trust and love for my 
father.  My heart is filled anew with hope of what I strive to better myself 
to become.  But still..  So many things are yet to be answered.  ' 
 
Ygraine raised her head, following the young man's path around her.  
'Fulgin', she said with a tender touch in her voice.  'Your questions lie 
not in your father's past, nor his words.  Galen lived as a Knight of 
Solamnia.  He was admirable and honest.  Just and true, Of all the knights I 
have encountered over my countless years, he bares rank with the greats.  
Vinas himself, would be proud of your Father, as well assured he is.  But 
Galen loved like a father.  Caring and protective.  Patient and guiding.  
Your father did what any loving father would do.  He bared his child's 
burden, regardless of the pain and shame, and continued his love as he 
always had.  ' She lowered her head, snaking around in front of Fulgin to 
stop his mindless pacing.  Looking him squarely in the eyes, 'Your answers 
will not come from books', she motioned to the pile upon the ground.  'No my 
dear child, for I feel as if you were one of my own, your answers must come 
from her.  ' Fulgin snapped around, turning his back to the dragon, lowering 
his head.  He stood silent for a moment before the feel of cold metallic 
scale touched his chin, pulling it upward.  'She is the only one who can 
answer for her deeds.  ' 
 
The wing let go of his chin and he nodded, to himself more than to Ygraine.  
'I have known this all along.  I just havent been able to push myself down 
that path yet.  ' Again, the meadow was bathed in a shimmer of silver rays.  
The ground softly shaked as the silver moved about for more room.  'We all 
have paths we must choose Sir Knight.  When and where are our decision.  You 
will make yours when you are ready, wether now or later is up to you.  I, 
however, must depart.  ' She lowered her head once more, bring her nose 
against Fulgin's side, slightly nudging him.  'The whistle if yours now, Sir 
Knight.  I trust you wont delay as long before the next time you decide to 
use it.  I will answer it's call as I always have.  May Paladine watch over 
you in the events to come.  ' 
 
Fulgin startled back to reality.  'The city!  I have meandored too long.  
Thank you again Ygraine.  ' He turned toward her but the dragon was already 
lifted in flight.  Raising a salute, he quickly picked up the books and ran 
from the grove.   
 
(More installments to come)  

Author:           Fulgin
Date    Thu Dec  8 22:20:54 2005
Subject  Journal Entry, 27th day of Gileadai

 Once again I pen my thoughts, as they swarm like an angry drove of bees 
over the recently disturbed nest.  I cannot escape my family's past, yet 
each day draw the impending future before me.  Aside my fathers journals, 
rest tactical mastery volumes written by numerous generals.  Maps lay flat, 
held in place by my mace and the ink bottle with which I pen this.  War.  It 
seems like only moments ago that I was but a child in my mothers house.  
Hours I would spend reading of the great battles.  His battles.  My father's 
actions burning brightly in my imagination.  Each stroke of his sword baring 
my soul's desire to be there alongside him.  Each swing of his mace, 
carrying away all my fears.  And now..  I stand upon battlements, looking 
down upon a city, as once my father did.  And yet I feel hollow.  
Incomplete.  How, m'lord Kiri-Jolith.  Show me the divine path in which to 
set aside my troubles and ride to victory along side my brethren in arms, 
while locking away pain of true siblings.  I weep.  Not of sadness.  I feel 
no sorrow.  I feel his love.  Both of their love.  My fathers.  His words 
whisper in my ear, giving me strength.  His undying devotion, feeds my 
faith.   
 
I know not what the yonder sun will bring with its rising.  However I know 
somehow, that my quest will be completed.  'When and where are our 
decision', she had said.  It is thus that I know.  I must send my thanks 
again to the Revered Prophet, Sobleski.  His training has helped me to 
exceed my skills farther and faster than I had hoped.   
 
The 3rd bell tolls.  The night guards readies for change.  I must force 
myself to rest.  I can only hope that my time spent training with Lord 
Barish and Lord Demilon, and the bruises, were worth their merit and that I 
do not forgot them on the morrow.  I must sleep.  War comes...  And then I 
will find her..  I will find my sister, Silver Mar-Cil Pathwarden...  And 
she will answer for her deeds.   
 
27th day of Gileadai 
 

Author:           Fulgin
Date    Sun Dec 11 13:47:13 2005
Subject  Journal Entry, 31st day of Sirrimont

Father, We have won.  The battle of Kalaman stands as a victory for the 
Knighthood.  Oh that I have done you proud.  The battle was intense.  My 
mace swung with a fierceness that I have known only in stories.  I take not 
full credit.  Lord Kael's sword curved a path of glory.  Lord Aliran's word 
soothed the crowd, inspiring them to takes arms against their opposers.  
Words..  Its amazing the power they can hold.  One young lad, Tollo was his 
name.  He picked up a sword, clearly unfamiliar with its intricacies.  Yet 
Father, he wield the blade as though it carried the hope of a coming day 
upon its edge.  The lad, fell in battle, but his heart and courage carried 
on to others.  Magnificent.   
 
On the morrow, I take seat upon your old post.  I have been elected as the 
new High Justice.  My heart flows with a joy that I find hard to leash.  
Tomorrow I shall begin down the path that once you took, and hope that I too 
may be as just and compassionate as the guidelines that your presence set 
forth.   
 
I must thank your father, for the whistle.  Ygraine must have been special 
to you.  She has helped me to understand a lot.  I will thank her personally 
again I am sure.  For now I must once more try to sleep.  After ceremonies 
tomorrow I must ship out.  The war moves to full swing and time waits for 
now man.   

Author:    Fulgin         
Date:      Sat Mar 31 00:44:44 2012
Subject     Addressed to the High Knight's Counsel

Dear Lords, 

As I wirte this, I once again overlook my families lands in Goodlund. Having
returned to Pathwarden Keep, I am excited to have returned to the mainland.
The past years have been long spent in Ergoth, alongside my mother,
defending the neighboring settlements. Parts of Northern Ergoth have been
overrun by ogres and goblin. more disturbing yet, is the new species. A vile
combination of man and reptile. Though sparse in the region, these beasts
numbers continue to slowly grow. I an happy to report, however, that the
lands from Gwynned to Lancton to Hillfort have been cleared and fortified.

After seeing to the local militia training and readinesss, I left my
mother's home for Sancrist. A visit to Castle uth Wistan, a shame the lord
was not in. A brief pass by Mt. Nevermind. The gnomes and their inventions.
What a stench. Even here, further astray from the mainland, more of these
new creatures.

From there, I moved on to Southern Ergoth. I stopped by the Solamnic
outpost. To my dismay, the keep was out of shape, and it's defenders lacking
any true spirit. So far removed, they see little action, and hear less news.
I spent some time here, debriefing on what I had already seen, and taking
the time to remonstrate the Code and Measure. I left the keep and the island
in better coditions in I found them, I hope.

And now as I watch the changing of the guard here at my father's home, I
feel ready once again. I pen this letter, to declare my return to the ranks
of the knights that stand upon the walls of our Solamnic homelunds. Even now
my horse is being prepared. I set out for the High Clerist Tower on the
morrow. Soon my lords, this knight shall truly return home.

Respectfully Yours, Sir Fulgin Pathwarden 

The Storytellers of Ansalon, The DragonLance MUD

Astinus points to the massive wall of books behind him and bids you to make a selection.

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