An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Jukar.

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 miniscule pocket book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Jukar' scribed in unearthly yellow ink.

Author:    Jukar          
Date:      Tue Jul 15 23:44:53 2008
Subject     Conversion pt. 1

It had started with a simple request. A request from a petty White Robe
apprentice to the most powerful Black Robed magic-user in all of Krynn,
Jendaron Mer-Kel. Seemingly an odd move, Jukar Banthalomos of the Whites,
met with the High Archmage i n the Hall of Mages. As a follower of Solinari,
or atleast a would-be follower, Jukar had never seen the Black Moon, but he
knew of it's presence. Simple questions were the basis of this meeting, but
so much more came from it. 

 Hello, apprentice. What is it you wished to speak with me about?  

Were the first words uttered by Jendaron, enough to captivate the attention
of the lowly White Robe. Jendaron had stepped from nothingness, appearing in
a demonstration of the magic granted to him by his Black god. Stunned by the
display of power, though it was not exactly much more than a flashy
entrance. It took a minute for Jukar to respond, though it seemed like a
much longer time. 

 High Archmage, thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice. I
will not take much of your time as I'm sure you have more important matters
to attend to than talking to a simple White Robed apprentice.  

Choosing his words carefully, Jukar exhibits a great amount of respect for
the High Archmage, both due to his position and the nature of his upcoming
questioning. Still in relative awe of being in the presence of arguably one
of the most powerful magic-users alive, Jukar moves slowly and quietly to
take a seat on a bench. He takes a moment or two to gather his thoughts,
looking up to see Jendaron waiting patiently for further talking. 

 I have often wondered about the Black moon, High Archmage. I do not see it,
the same as every other person on Krynn, save the beloved of Nuitari. But I
know it is there. This fascinates me. I have chosen the path of Solinari
myself, as is expe cted of nearly everyone from my native Silvanesti. We are
a race of good. But why? Why do we have to be good? Do not the other Gods
wish to have Elven blood among their worshippers? I believe so.  

He stands again, getting into the stride of his speech, feeling more and
more at ease as he speaks of Nuitari. There is an admiration within this
poor Apprentice for the Dark Prince of Magic, a yearning to behold his
glory. Jendaron must sense th is, or atleast have the intelligence to pick
it up within the young elf's words, for he speaks once more after Jukar
finishes. 

 Take my hand, Apprentice. You want to see what Nuitari is about? You want
to know about my Black god? So be it. Take my hand and I will show you the
wonders of Nuitari and his absolute power.  

Jukar blinks a few times, unsure of what to do for a moment. He recovers,
however, extending his hand and grasping Jendaron's. In an instant, the room
fades to black and the duo seemingly leaves the Tower of Wayreth. And they
are transported stra ight to Jukar's homeland of Silvanesti and to be more
precise: Silvanost. But not the Silvanost of memory, for the grand capital
of the Silvanesti nation burns. The city is engulfed by flame, its citizens
laying strewn about...slaughtered. A bit away from the border of the city, a
single Black Robe stands. Silvanost burns at the hands of this Black Robe,
or atleast he has some part of it. The mysterious figure nods once, flipping
back the hood of his robes, revealing the distinct, pointe d ears of an
elf.

 You have seen the power of Nuitari, for he crafted this image for you at my
request, along with my aid. You are to continue with your studying, but with
added instruction. You are to pray to Nuitari, offer yourself to him body
and spirit and y ou will see the Black Moon. And with that, you will wear
the Black Robes in place of your White. Good-bye Apprentice, until I hear
from you.  

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 868 storytellers on Ansalon pen their epic stories here for all to read.'