The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Grimmdrok.

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 metal bound tome encrusted with jewels on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Grimmdrok' scribed in deep grey ink.


Author:    Grimmdrok      
Date:      Tue Nov 23 05:57:17 2010
Subject     Rotten night!

Dear Diary, 

I am writing this from the cell in the Garnet dungeons. Yes, I'm in stir, AGAIN. This is getting ridiculous. I shall have to change my stratagem, for I am running out of towns I haven't been run out of. Let me explain. I sneaked into the Garnet graveyard last night, you see, sometime after midnight. The moon was nearly full and perhaps I ought to have chosen a darker night for the troublesome task, but I was overeager. I wouldn't have this opportunity again for quite some time. Two days ago, a hylar dwarf child died had died of the burning fever in Garnet's underground pest house. My collection still lacks a dwarven skull of ANY race or age, but a child's skull would be a truly unique specimen and a great opportunity to study the patterns of growth in the brain case. I had to have it! The poor lad was buried yesterday afternoon and the grave was quite fresh. So I waited until the coast was clear and then I stole into the graveyard with my shovel.
The dirt was soft and yielding and I made quick progress. But I hadn't been digging twenty minutes when I heard a man drawl in that insufferable drone the humans and dwarves can't seem to get rid of, "Aaaaallll riiiiight, hoooooold it riiiiiight theeeeere!" Well, I tried to explain my behavior in a way that would not sound objectionable, but he knew I intended to rob the grave, and his dull ears could not understand my excuses anyway. So, here I sit! It won't be more than a few weeks, I hope, and then I'll move on to the next town -- and I'll try to do it right next time. Perhaps some form of steam-powered digging machine is the answer, though I fear the noise would draw attention.
Procuring a skull from every organism on Krynn is a Life Quest fraught with challenges, especially when one doesn't believe in violence! Never mind the tiresome task of stripping the flesh from the bone, a process I still haven't gotten down to a science -- or even an art, to be honest. (I only hope that that Garnet innkeeper won't notice the stain from the muskrat brains by the washroom sink. I covered it up with the rug, so with luck, the maid will be inattentive. I really ought to find a workshop for these unpleasant chores, but it's hard to establish oneself when one becomes a pariah in every town one visits.)
Well, dear diary, I shall keep you up to date on my progress. But the next few weeks will be undoubtedly sparse as far as scientific discovery goes, languishing as I am in this dreary cell. May my stay be brief!
Yours truly, Grimmdrok Author: Grimmdrok Date: Sat Nov 27 02:45:52 2010 Subject On my way to the Port of Caer... Dear Diary,
I made my exit from Garnet, receiving a good many of those sorts of looks that could kill one, if looks could, on my way. I don't see why what I do is so wrong, but the lesser races of Krynn are oddly particular about their remains. To think what we could discover if people were as content to give away their bodies as their material possessions! (I should give due credit to the Kender race for their curiosity about my Life Quest and their total willingness to help me. The problem is that the ones who've promised their skulls to me have usually wandered halfway across Krynn by the time they're, er, asked to join the orchestra of Branchala, as it were, and most of the time their remains are down the gullet of some beast or at the bottom of an active volcano and thus rendered useless to me.)
Along the road, stumbled across a serpent that had been crushed beenath a wagon wheel. It was an iridescent black adder of a species I had not yet collected. The head, to my great fortune, was untouched, so I took out my knife and detached it and tucked it away in a velvet pouch to be dealt with the next time I have a decent, sterile workspace.
I am on my way to the seaside village of Caergoth because I have heard that the port is a lawless and violent place. I, of course, do not condone violence, but if my Quest can benefit from it, I shan't refuse the opportunity. I'd be interested to study the shapes of the skulls of violent criminals as compared to those of ordinary people. Of course as yet I have no human skull at all, but I can dream.
I am camped by a pleasant stream tonight and as I watch a few crayfish crawl about the shore, it occurs to me to wonder: must I collect the "skulls" of exoskelotic creatures as well in order to fulfill the terms of my Life Quest? Perhaps I should write to my guild subcommittee at Mount Nevermind to inquire about this particular technicality.
Goodnight, diary, and stay dry, as it looks like it is going to be a stormy evening. I hope the impermeable collapsible compactible fishskin tent my cousin invented actually works!
Yours truly, Grimmdrok

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 mentions 'We have had over 803 storytellers on Ansalon pen their epic stories here for all to read.'

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