The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Kesh.

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 worn folio on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Kesh' scribed in burnt red ink.

Author:    Kesh           
Date:      Wed Dec 16 10:25:06 2009
Subject     Palanthas, Born and Bred

On the day of Soldai, 17th the Month of Bran, Gerrard Kesh Greyhem was born unto Atael and Brine, a young and optimistic couple. Today Brine Greyhem, a bright and intelligent shipping captain, became both a proud father and the head of a newly formed business venture. Greyhem-Palanthas Incorporated, then a single ship company, was born just hours before the infant. Today, the Greyhem-Palanthas Shipyard is a prominent company, a respectable and money-generating operation that is, in the eyes of some, largely responsible for a new rising middle class. Just as Brine lovingly raised his son, so did he lovingly nurture his fledgling enterprise. Kesh and the shipyard grew up together, and the young master Greyhem was often found (and scolded by his worrying mother) around his father's warehouse. Kesh loved to watch the hustle and bustle of the warehouse, the gruff and weathered sailors hauling and loading boxes of every product and luxury imaginable. And as the boy and shipyard grew, so did the fortunes of all Brine Greyhem's friends and employees. Just the right combination of luck, determination and manageable setbacks allowed for steady growth. And perhaps, if Brine had played his cards correctly, the Greyhem could have been swept off to rub shoulders the smug and haughty nobles of Palanthas. But Brine had no interest in standing around idly, chattering on about weather and fashion. Without any noble lineage whatsoever, they Greyhems would have been forever doomed to a miniscule status. Instead, Brine gathered to himself men of action, philosophy and literature. Contemporary thinkers and common-born gentlemen were always welcome at Greyhem hearth. Perhaps the Solamnic nobles of Palanthas were jealous, hating to see a common family prosper, but a rift grew between the old families and the new rising wealth. And young Kesh grew up being told by great men, tutors and mentors that he symbolized a new wealth in Palanthas. And Kesh believed them, growing in a strong, charismatic leader. He is well known throughout Palanthas, especially amongst the maritime population. And slowly, he has begun to gain influence in other spheres. Author: Kesh Date: Wed Nov 17 18:45:44 2010 Subject Skipping town. Kesh Reveliere leans against an unlit lamppost, shoulder propped against the cold metal stem, intently grooming his nails with a slim file. He is the only visible figure on the lonely Palanthian avenue, uncommonly cool in the descending darkness. In the distance, a small flame ignites as the lamplighters begin their nocturnal task. Like the constellations of the gods, the lamps of Palanthas begin to outline the glorious city. In a few moments, the entire city will be emit a soft glow through the fog, a beacon of light through the night. But it is a fleeting metaphor, for the lamplighters guild know it's business well. By the birth of dawn, the lamps will be but smoldering wisps. And by then, Kesh Reveliere intends on being a richer man. He waits patiently, watching the line of lights march onward like dutiful ants. But he frowns, wondering if his man will come through. He files slower now, less interested in his fingers. And finally, a sequence of three lamps are suddenly expunged. They leave a gap at the edge of Central Palanthas, home of the wealthiest residents of the lordcity. ************************************ Dancing through the shadows, Kesh makes his way across the rooftops of Central Palanathas. Ducking and weaving, he stops only at irregular intervals; behind chimneys or high vaulted terraces or inside window sills. Upon reaching the end house, he swiftly swings down the side with arm-wrenching drops. His limber arms and legs allow him to navigate various holds; the odd brick, more window sills and deco placed by pompous homeowners. "By the now, the slain servants would have been discovered" Kesh thinks to himself, his heart racing against his chest. "How could they have known exactly where I was to enter! And armed nonetheless, I've been betrayed!" Indeed, it seemed that the two servants, now lying in a pool of blood, were expecting Mr. Reveliere. Finally landing down, Kesh ditches his bloodied file into some bushes. He himself was badly cut, deep red seeing through his shirt and cloak. But the servants are worse off, their eyes brutally slashes out by the dull file. Now heading straight for the docks, Kesh races along as fast as the shadows allow. Not far behind, he hears the shuffle of armored guards and the rattle of swords in scabbards...A boat! Dark and seemingly uninhabited, Kesh has no other option for escape. He quickly scales the outside rigging and slips onboard. He's safe, or so he prays.

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