An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Kerix.

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 thread-bare book bound in cloth on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Kerix' scribed in dull orange ink.

Author:    Kerix          
Date:      Fri Mar  6 20:14:45 2009
Subject     The Story of Kerix the Pale

"Gather round young ones, it's time I told you the tale of Kerix the
Pale... It starts not long ago - a score of years by my reckoning. It was a
dark time. The gods had abandoned us and we lost many ships to Zeboim's fury
that year. Kerix's mother was crew on the Retribution. It was a fine ship,
sturdy like a castle wall but slower than a dwarf. They were months out at
sea, and her pregnancy had relegated her to serving in the ship's galley.
The scurvy wench didn't even know who the poor calf's father was. She was a
pirate scoundrel through and through to be sure. No doubt her ways would
have landed her imprisoned or worse on the mainland, but the sea has a way
of erasing all that. 

The day of Kerix's birth started with a glorious sunset. The sea was calm
and the skies clear. But as the labor pains started, storm cloud's gathered
thick on the horizon. Zeboim herself would not suffer the birth of this
child. The whole of the crew was forced into action as the storm broke over
the ship. None were there to see the birth - every able bodied Minotaur was
pressed into duty to keep the Retribution afloat in the gale. After hours of
fighting the mountainous waves, a piercing shriek of anger and grief mixed
with the wail of an infant cut through the sound and fury of the storm. 

The cabin door burst open. She stood there, fur matter with the blood of the
birthing. One hand clutched a bloody bundle while the other slammed the
door. With a grimace of pain she staggered to the rail, and hurled the
bundle into the storm. The whole crew stopped to watch and wonder, wondering
what deformed beast her loins had wrought. There was glimpse of white
followed by a splash. None saw anything more, and were forced to turn their
attentions back to sailing. The storm quickly faded, along with any cares
for the fate of the infant. He was dead to them." 

The old minotaur leans back, taking a long draw on his pipe. His gnarled
form shudders as he coughs out the harsh smoke. "We were not so lucky."

"Somehow the babe survived that terrible fate. Some say he was saved by sea
elves, who took pity on the new life. Others say the blanket his mother used
was waterproofed canvas, and Zeboim saw kept him afloat for her own
purposes. Perhaps a human vessel found him in the wake of the storm and
fished him out. He's the only one who knows. I can tell you that many years
later his mother was found dead, impaled on her own broken horn. It was a
fate my daughter deserved, aye. Clutched in her hand was long white fur,
ripped from her attacker. Sargonnas did not deprive Kerix of his vengeance.
Those who managed to spy him that night saw him only briefly - as a pale
shadow in the night." 

The old minotaur smiles wistfully, smoke trailing from his nostrils, "Kerix
is an abomination, but also potent warrior in his own right. I have sought
tales of him from the mainlanders. He still reveres Sargonnas in his way,
and seeks to join with the forces of Her Dark Majesty. My grandson a true
blooded minotaur, who shall never truly be a minotaur."

He looks at each of the young ones in turn, "If you see him, tell him I
honor him. Then kill him." 

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