The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Mayhem.

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 an elegant book bound in elf-skin on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Mayhem' scribed in faded brown ink.

Author:    Mayhem         
Date:      Tue Apr 15 22:18:20 2014
Subject     Mayhem's humble beginning

Like his father and grandfathers before him, Mayhem was tall, with fine chiseled features, his long white hair tied back to keep it out of his eyes, his eyes constantly changing - at times sea-green, at others, the color of slate as if matching his mood. Sighing softly as he feels his magical aura flicker, he could almost hear the snickers of the other villagers. Here he was almost an adult, son of a powerful sorcerer, and he had no control over his spells. It wasn't that he didn't have a talent for Magic. The village elders had never seen anyone with his potential. Even as a child, he could memorize any spell, it all came almost too easy. The problem was that when he cast a spell, he was never sure what might happen. Attempting to summon flame to light a candle, the resultant inferno nearly burned down his family's house. Using chill touch on a small rat, his fingers turned blue but nothing else happened. The village shaman seemed to take it all in stride. "Mayhem, don't worry about what might happen. Just let the Magic flow within you." But as Mayhem grew older, his spells became even more erratic and if anything, his control seemed worse. Soon he could see fear on the faces of the villagers whenever he called upon his Magic. One day, Mayhem's father called him into his room, the walls lined with bookcases loaded with magical tomes and scrolls. Noticing his son, a fleeting look of pity appeared on the sorcerer's face. "Mayhem, sit down. It is time for you to make a choice - a choice that will change your life. Concerned now, the young elf sat in a leather chair, trying not to squirm nor show his nervousness. Then his father continued, "I have been following your Magical training. By now, I hoped to train you as my apprentice, to take your place as a sorcerer in the village." Raising his voice, "That won't happen. I can't trust your Magic. I fear that it is only a matter of time before someone gets seriously hurt or worse." Mayhem's eyes grew large, his hopes dashed. "You have two choices. One, the shaman has a magical amulet that we can place around your neck. You will never use Magic again." "No! I would be worse than dead. What is the other choice?" Mayhem's father nodded, as if he expected this response. "You must leave the village, no longer part of the village. You would no longer be my son, but a stranger. Go, Mayhem, leave and find someone who might teach you how to control your Magic. If you can't, it will one day consume you." Blinking back tears, Mayhem packed a few things and left the village, following the river to a nearby seaport. He heard about a group of Magical users, called a Conclave or something like that. Perhaps he might find his destiny there.

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 mentions 'We have had over 817 storytellers on Ansalon pen their epic stories here for all to read.'