The Great Library of Palanthas
An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.
Stories of Ansalon from the view of Juniper.
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 journal on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Juniper' scribed in light orange ink.
Author: Juniper Date: Sat Mar 1 08:55:29 2014 Subject Leaving Gaardlund
I was curled up on a blanket with a book in my lap beneath a large oak tree, absentmindedly watching the birds peck at the grass. On the rare occasion I could be still enough to coax one of my feathered friends to eat birdseed off my palm. At the moment, a finch was perched on my thumb as a fish jumped from the banks of the river. I glanced up quickly and startled the finch, causing him to fly off in a panic. These lazy days of carelessness were what I lived for, a peaceful escape from life's bitter realities. A flash of light brightened the sky, alerting me that a storm was rolling in. As the sky grew dark quickly and as drops of rain started to fall, I gathered my things and headed home. "Where have you been, Juniper? Dinner was an hour ago, I sent two servants out to look for you", my father said coldly when I walked through the door, drenched and shivering from the cold. Living under my father's authority never bothered me as a child, as I was a blissfully unaware of such a concept at such a young age. Simply ignorant to the idea of over-protection and control. But my eyes had been abruptly opened to a new world of belittlement and deception when my hope wore away with the events that had come to pass in the recent weeks. Fate had it that my father had promised my hand to Krious for as long as I can remember. I dreamed of the day that I would wed him since I was a little girl. But joy would not be anticipated with that day as the time drew near. My dreams were merely replaced with sorrow and grief with the realization that the man I was to wed had become a cold-hearted brute. Rarely did I see that glimmer in his eye reminding me of the boy who chased me around the gardens in our small town of Starmont in the eastern province of Gaardlund. Collapsing beside me in exhaustion in the grass, we would spend hours looking up at the clouds and sharing stories we had heard of brave men in battle. Tales of the Gods casting mercy upon the fallen soldiers. He would re-enact moments in the stories with such energy, as I giggled and blushed in the heat of the afternoon sun. Puffing out his chest, when imitating a knight who has won a battle. Keeling over as a hunchback, wobbling to and fro while clasping tightly to a stick as his staff in his palm. All the while carrying a quizzical look upon his face as I spoke of tales regarding old fire mages, racking their brains.. attempting to read old scrolls containing powerful spells, long forgotten in the past.
Usually reminiscing about the simple days of being a child lifted my mood to where I could bear the days limitless amount of chores and responsibilities. But today, these memories felt like boulders in my stomach, spreading its weight throughout my body and turning my heart into stone. The way he looked at me, was as if I was just an object to decorate his home like a precious ornament would. The way he commanded me when I attempted to exchange words with him, was unsettling. Ignoring me completely, as if I wasnt even present. He would say things such as, "Let your actions do the talking, young one. I may ask your opinion once you prove your worth to me". Mustering up the courage to speak to him in the first place, let alone look him in the eye as an equal, took all my strength. But with one harsh glance from him, I felt worthless. No better than a beggar on the street, asking for spare morsels to eat or if the Gods be good to me.. a few coppers for an ale. And so it came to be, that it was regretfully my time to leave this city. The only place I had ever felt worthy to call my home. I knew what I had to do, but 'How?' was the question. Depart in the cover of darkness was my only strategy and plan if I were to save my life from the monotony of being a housewife. Thus later that night, I packed up what little food I could scavenge from the kitchen cupboards. A deep grey hooded cloak, a small dagger and a bronze lantern to light my way were essential items I needed to grab as well. Wrapping my cloak around my body, I waited patiently until the house was silent as snowfall, sneaking around the still of night making sure everyone was asleep before.. I anxiously made haste and fled into the darkness. Vowing never to return.
I stumbled through the brush, hardly able to keep my eyes open to see how far I had strayed from the road. It felt safer off the path, perhaps I was getting delusional but I could have sworn I heard footsteps behind me not long into my journey. With every rustle of the leaves and change in the winds I checked my surroundings. Paranoia was getting to me. Who knew what could be lurking in these woods, let alone what would happen if I was spotted. Leaving the city by myself was foolish, but it seemed to be my only hope. It had been hours since I departed town, and the light of dawn was beginning to illuminate the sky. The sight of dewdrops glistening on the tips of ferns around me brought relief, and I realized that now was the best time to find a safe spot to sleep. I crawled into the hollow of an ancient tree, and arranged some fallen limbs in the entrance to camouflage my whereabouts. Wrapping my cloak close to my frail body, the morning song of birds in the treetops lulled me into a deep slumber. "Dis whar hide shinies!" A deep grunting of broken common spoke harshly. "You share and no tell leader?" I jolted awake, immediately realizing I had company. I jumped up and tried climbing the slimy insides of the rotted tree. Getting a foothold, I held my breath as daylight shone into the tree and the branches hiding my sleeping quarters were removed. A hobgoblin climbed into view, a few feet below me, and started rummaging through the pile of leaves that made up the floor. He let out a disgusting squeal as he pulled out his treasure, a small leather pouch looking heavy with coins. My foot slipped and I fell, seemingly in slow motion as thoughts of capture raced through my mind. Landing right on top of nauseating hobgoblin, and looking up, I saw a group of ogres waiting outside the tree. They excitedly began talking to each other in their native tounge, staring me down like they were full of hunger and I was their lunch. One of them grabbed my foot and dragged me out of the tree and into the blinding light of the sun. "You come! Get up!" One of them stated bluntly. Tears streamed down my face as I was taken into captivity.
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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