An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Khyldes.

A little gully dwarf runs by and says 'Wordwrap is at 65. You change? 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 concise treatise on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Khyldes' scribed in vibrant maroon ink.

Author:  Khyldes
Date    Sat Jan 18 00:11:40 2003



Subject  Leften



Wrapping his robes around his body, High Archmage Khyldes decends
the stairs
of the Tower of the Red Robes.

Muttering softly to himself, he fishes about in one of the many
pockets of his
robes and withdraws a small velvet pouch.

Coming to the second level of the Tower he turns and heads for
the small
labratory set into the recess of the northernmost wall.

Upon entering the small room, he searches the nearby shelfs for a
small wooden
bowl. Finding it he places both the bowl and the pouch on the
stone table
erected in the center of the room.

Pushing back the sleeves of his robes, he unties the pouch and
shakes a
reddish powder out into the bowl.

With a flick of his left wrist, he unsheaths a small silver
dagger.

Taking the dagger, he inverts it and with a small amount of
pressure drags the
blade across the surface of his already scarred palm. Blood wells
from the cut
and begins to drip down the length of his hand into the bowl..

He begins to mix the powder and blood with his fingers forming a
small paste.

He scrapes the paste from the bowl with the tip of his dagger and
lays it
gently on the table, allowing it time to dry.

While waiting on the paste to dry he applies pressure to the cut
on his palm,
slowing the flow of blood, and eventually allowing it to stop.

Checking the paste, he finds that it is ready and breaks it off
the tip of his
dagger. Reaching under the stone table he brings forth a small
copper altar
and places the dried paste in it's center.

Placing a hand directly over the altar he begins to murmer arcane
words , the
paste begins to melt, eventually back into a hot liquid form, no
longer
reddish, but silver in color.

Still chanting the arcane words, he focuses his mind on the image
of the thief
known as Leften, whom is said to have stolen a rare sceptre from
the Age of
Dreams once protected by the elves of Qualinost.

An scene begins to form within the pool before him and he
recognizes the small
town of Caergoth. He slowly closes his hand, forming a fist, and
the scene
fades as the liquid evaporates quickly.

Once again pulling his robes about his body he leaves the
labratory and heads
towards his chambers in the southeastern corner of the Tower.

Once there he removes his Shalafi's staff from its wall mount and
secures his
spellbook to his back.

Closing his eye's, he whispers a word and vanishes, only to
reappear within
the city of Caergoth a moment later, Leften standing before him,
quite in
shock.

But before Khyldes can release an offensive spell the Minion of
Darkness
rushes him and knocks him off his feat, in an attempt to cut his
throat with
the two curved daggers clutched in his hands.

Before the Minion of Darkness can react, Khyldes whispers another
word and
vanishes once again, this time appearing within the forest of
Wayreth.

Calling on Lunitari for aide, he summons Leften before him, and
with a single
command, places him in an enchanted slumber.

Quickly he begins to place spells of maladiction on his
defensless frame, and
within seconds the Minion is no more of a threat then a rabid
gully dwarf.

With an oath to his Mistress he calls extends his hands and a
stream of
corrosive acid strikes Leften in his chest, melting his cheap
armor and
causing him to roll across the ground screaming.

The Minion attempts to run, but the High Archmages quickness is
too much.
Spell after spell is unleashed upon Leften, and not long after it
had begun,
the Minion of the Knights of Takhisis is left bloody on the
ground, smelling
of burnt flesh.

Quickly Khyldes searches the body, and while not finding the
sceptre he does
uncover some small magical trinkets that belong within the vaults
of the
Conclave.

As he prepares for his departure, he is surprised as a portal
opens before him
and out steps Khayman of the Wildrunners, escorted by a band of
undead beings,
how ironic.

But before the Wild Mage can do anything, Khyldes is gone.



Author:  Khyldes
Date    Mon Feb 17 21:02:54 2003



Subject  Knights of Takhisis



*Khyldes wakes from an enchanted sleep, feeling groggy and out of
place*
*Looking around he notices a robed figure in the corner of the
room with its
hood drawn* *To his utter amazement, the figure pulls back the
hood to reveal
the face of one long lost, his Shalafi Mayrand* Mayrand begins
to speak in a
low whisper: 'Ahh.. my Apprentice.. well I guess that title no
longer is fit
for the High Archmage... well done. I am only here on this plane
for a short
time. I have 2 things bidden by the Red Lady to accomplish.

Mayrand begins to cough, his body shaking with each heaving
breath and then
continues: First, I bring this gift from our Goddesss, in
reward for your
efforts against those that have been harboring Renegades of the
Order.

Mayrand extends his hand, a small velvet pouch hanging from his
fingertips.

Khyldes reaches out and accepts the pouch and places it on the
table before
him. Before he can open it though Mayrand continues once more:
'I watched
your battle with the Knights of Takhisis. I must say I was quite
impressed how
you handled two such formidable foes.

Lunitari was also very pleased that you still alone continue
the battle
for Balance.

She bids me to encourage you to bring more to the fold, to teach
them, and to
release them into the world to seek out those who refuse to abide
by the
Laws of Magic.

Khyldes leans back a bit, taking it all in. The memories of
fighting Decred
and Tourach sacrificing his physical health in the process.

Mayrand again continues: 'Build up the Order Khyldes, bring
back the
glory of the Art.

Seek out the young, the powerful, mold their minds and
Lunitari will
continue to bless you.

Mayrand gestures to the pouch on the table: 'Open it, use
what is within
to aide you in your quest.

Khyldes reaches for the pouch, unties the strings holding it
closed and
withdraws a small glass orb. As he touches it, a vivid red
color begins to
swirl within as if alive.

Khyldes gasps as he realizes this must be the one remaining
Dragon Orb
on Krynn.

He slowly begins to remember the day Mayrand vanished.. speaking
of hiding the
Orb where none could acquire it.

Not knowing quite what to do yet.. he places the orb back in its
pouch, and
slips it within his robes.

Amazing.. a Dragon Orb....

Looking up, Khyldes notices that Mayrand is gone..


Author:    Khyldes        
Date:      Mon Jun 15
16:39:52 2009
Subject     Return to the Fold


*Khyldes
enters the Tower of Wayreth through the southern gate and makes
his way to his study*
 
*Entering his study he looks around and
takes inventory of his personal belongings, making sure nothing
has been disturbed in his absesnce*
 
*Catching a glimpse of
himself in an oval mirror leaning against the north wall he
frowns at the ebony robes hanging from his frail frame*
 
"Damn
the ways of the dark... Nuitari you were a clever master to lure
me into your web..but no longer shall I be bound to your ways..."
he whispers.
 
*Gesturing he speaks a word of magic and the room
is suddenly filled with a reddish glow*
 
*Stripping the robes
from his body he walks across the room to a worn iron-bound chest
partially hidden in the corner*
 
*Opening the chest he reaches
in and withdraws a bundle of red material. He pauses for a moment
and then looses the bindings holding it together. With a sigh of
relief he covers himself with the rune lined robe.*
 
"I have
returned Lunitari, the ways of Balance have long been tipped. I
will do what is within my power to right them once more. I have
learned much on my journey into the dark but I emerge with a new
outlook.
With this new understanding I can better serve our cause
while remaining impartial in the decisions that may be brought
before me in the future."
 
*Whispering another word of magic,
the reddish glow fades from the room and the former High Archmage
fades into the shadows, lost in thought*

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.'