The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Malache.

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 book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Malache' scribed in earth-colored brown ink.


Author:    Malache        
Date:      Mon May 25 10:03:29 2015
Subject     Things That Happen On the Road (Malache/Valeska)

"Hey. Hey did you hear about the River Girl?" A hushed question is uttered in the back of one of the riverside taverns just after dark. "The word is that she was killed traveling through a little while ago." A second, louder voice picks up to question the first. This one is clearly deeper in it's cups than the first, "Dead? The River Lass? Bah...I thought someone'd found 'er on the roadside. Been robbed, but I didn't hear nothin about her bein dead. Poor thing, though. S'ain a time for a pretty lass t'be travelin alone like that..." A third, gruffer but clearly female voice breaks in as her chair creaks beneath the weight of her armor, warns with a familiar sternnes, "Say that again, Allard. What's the gossip today? Someone was robbed?" The first voice hisses back in, mildly annoyed as the tavern slowly grows more crowded. "No no. Well...Maybe she was robbed too. I don't know. But they definitely took her body in and it was very dead." The half-elven traveller at the bar snorts and brings his drink in closer before finishing it off. She wasn't dead. Not when they brought her in at least. He saw them pull her upstairs of the roadhouse. She never made it to any towns and already the gossip was travelling? She must be popular when she doesn't look like death warmed over, he thought to himself. He gives the room a once-over and then pays for his meal before heading out. Sure. A bed was nice and the roads were dark, but he wouldn't be making use of any of those. He was on his way home, presumably the opposite direction the strange poisoned River Girl was going. Home. That's a loose term when it came to his father's house. To be honest, if his cousin wasn't going to be there he wouldn't even bother. But she was, and so he did. He was already late and there was a raising sense of urgency to the air that he couldn't quite put his finger on. No one knew what had happened, but she sure didn't look robbed either. No one who's been robbed and left for dead has that much stuff, and he knew it. Murder and thievery were normal on the roads...Not particularly rampant but things happened. He had this feeling, though. Something about that just hadn't seemed all right, but he didn't have time to wait around to find out. He was paranoid. Everyone said that. But he'd never died from being paranoid yet. It was a good argument and one he made use of on a regular basis. Coupled with being late, it was the perfect concoction of reason to cause his pace quicken under his notice tonight. Late, to some, was good enough on it's own really and "home" was a good ways off...

Author: Malache Date: Sun Jun 28 07:00:10 2015 Subject Big Plans, Bigger Breaks.

Kalaman. That was the last time it flipped on them in a tavern and that was only three weeks ago. He still had bruises from that one, to be honest. He was, should they get out of this one, going to pop Danyll one for good measure. This was, while often entertaining, not particularly conducive to the plan. He should know. The last fight started directly after a four hour drinking binge in which they decided they were tired of talking about their wild plans and might take a jab at making a few. They had patched their wounds and went their own directions at that, Malache to gather the girl in his charge and Danyll to lay the foundations with damned near every last dime they had. But this was it. They were on the road to that bright and wealthy future...Just as soon as Dehilia was safely deposited where she belonged. It wouldn't be hard. Or, it shouldn't be. So long as none of them lost their heads in a random bar brawl along the way. Speaking of {obars and heads... Right about the time Danyll was acquainting the overstuffed gentleman with the tabletop, Twitch was flicking his charge in the ear. Leaning forward, he pushed her chair back from the table. He was relaxed, far more than he should have been, but she only rolled her eyes upwards and reached for her plate with both hands before sinking down under said table. This, of course, left the man to get his feet with his hand on the back of her abandoned chair. He closed his fingers over the back, turning it with a flip of the wrist before lifting it. All of this might have been an act of graceful planning had they even had a chance to talk yet. No, bringing the sturdy thing into a slow, casual upswing was clearly an act of indifference. Almost as much as the act of breaking it over the poor man who just hit his table, sending the whole thing rocking and creaking. It had been a fair enough evening, but Humans and Elves alike seemed to have this sort of idiot in droves...Not that any other group was free of their own bullshit. Sure. They could have done the good thing. Turned the other cheek in the name of peace. In hope for better understanding, but...No. It was too bad for the rest of the world that neither of them were particularly interested in peace or understanding. Money couldn't buy you happiness, that is what they say... But it was pretty hard to be depressed with the finest wine and waist-deep in hookers. All of that would have to wait, however. The big guy's buddies were up and moving their way, having put two and two together between the halfie and the wildling. The girl knew to get her ass out of the way if she wanted to keep her meal and her parts in order at this point, and had already made her way under several tables to put some space between herself and the building conflict. This was good, because what was left of their table...Just got flipped. One overweight champion of idiocy and bad fashion coming up, boys! With all he could muster, he'd sent the whole package right into the trio heading his way as his annoyed tone lifts, "Gods damn it, Danyll...I was going to eat that!" ((Continued from Danyll's Reunions, Big Plans.))

Author: Malache Date: Wed Jul 1 21:15:59 2015 Subject S'Always Something

Figured. Three days behind schedule to meet Danyll up in Kalaman and he caught himself in a grand mess of shit-storm. The hunter crouched low in the high undergrowth of the Nerakan Forest, Dehli's back pressed into his own as she rested and he watched a whole damned gaggle of ogre at camp. It was going to cost them some time, doubling back and coming up clear of the party, but it would save them a fair amount of blood. Were it just himself, he'd go straight and narrow to save the time...But it wasn't just him this time. She was good, he had to give her that, but she was more his daughter than his useless sod of a cousin and he wasn't about to lose her to risk. After some debate, the two decided to compromise. They would pull back a little and slip by in the night. He didn't like taking her so close to those brutes, but she wasn't exactly a little girl anymore. Gods, she sounded just like him, insisting she had to meet the dangers in order learn to survive them and all of the various things she'd heard him mutter about others who had slipped in and out of their lives along the way. She wasn't them, but he conceded. No, she wasn't one of those people. She was his daughter, and she would meet the devil on her own terms if he didn't agree to do it with her. There was no doubt about that. This was why you didn't bring your heart to work with you. You got yourself distracted with extra levels of consideration and that got you dead. Well, it almost did this time, too. A moment too far into the forest of the mind while you're stepping light and you walk yourself into a den of lions, a hive of bees or--Oh $$$$, Ogre. The bastard's sound and stench hit him just about the time the brute's massive blade nearly gave him a shave. Rolling out of instinct rather than cognitive thought, Twitch found himself blinking to his senses with the sound of his own blades sliding free of their scabbards. It took all of his strength and both of his blades to deflect the dual-bladed downward swing from the already charging Ogre and, despite his success, he was jarred and forced to give ground. The thing had caught him unaware this time, but by now he was far from it. The Ogre's brute strength was no match for his elvish speed and intense unwillingness to die at this time. It took time to cut the thing down, and a good pelting of bolts from his lovely assistant and daughter as they danced the seriously undignified tango of survival. The fittest, right? When it finally went down, a well-placed shot to the hamstring putting it out of the race, Malache wasn't exactly walking away on his own...But walk away he did, leaving the creature to it's slow death. One that it more than likely deserved. Man, they were going to be late... {O(This is in ref to the Gamdur Warnote, #9. Hope this works! It takes place weeks before the current story in Solanthus, if anyone wishes for a timeline here. He then went to Kalaman to meet with Danyll and they both eventually reunited in Solanthus.{O)

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