The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Merla.

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 enormous book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Merla' scribed in glowing maroon ink.

Author:    Merla          
Date:      Fri Jun 27 09:36:11 2014
Subject     Nice Work, If You Can Get It

"Worm! Wehavejustreceivedanewspecimenandweneedyouto --" The gnome stopped when she saw the puzzled expression in the kender's wide pale eyes, shook her head, and started over, slower. "We-have-just-received -a-new-specimen-and-we-need-you-to-process-it-right-away-it-is-quite -old-and-rather-fragrant-not-that-that-would-matter-to-you--"
"Okay," said the pale, scrawny kender, speaking from somewhere within the mound of faded, oversized clothes at which the gnome was barking her orders. "I'll do it."
"And-hurry-it-up-why-don't-you-as-you've-been-taking-your-time-lately -andweneedtokeepourworkscheduleontrack!"
The kender looked hurt. "I never steal! I told you I found that stuff! It must have fallen off of somebody and just ended up in my pouches. I would never steal, especially from dead people."
The gnome glared. "I-highly-doubt-THAT-but-all-I-have-is-your-word- and-if-it-happens-again-you'll-be-our-NEXT-specimen-you-stinking- Worm-now-get-to-the-cellar-without-another-second's-delay!"
"There's no cause for insults," said the kender, still hurt from the accusation of thievery. "And my name is Merla," she added after the gnome had bustled away. "NOT Worm. That's a terrible name." She sighed and headed for the cellar.
Spread out on the slab was the corpse of what appeared to be an upper-class male Qualinesti. It was hard to tell, though, because it was so bloated and almost blue -- she guessed they'd probably pulled it out of the river. She wiggled the rings off its fingers and pocketed them, unconsciously.
Anyone else would have been gagging from the stench in the grisly cellar, but Merla breathed easily. When she was only three, she'd been running along behind her father and her older brother as they carried a large tree trunk to cut up for firewood. They stopped suddenly to change their grip. Merla ran head-on into the end of the tree trunk. She was out for a few hours, but when she woke up, she'd lost her sense of smell. At least that's the story her parents told her. She didn't remember ever being able to smell. Playmates and family members went on and on about how nice the spring air was, or how wonderful Grandma's strawberry pie smelled, or how badly the goat needed his stall mucked out, and she never had any idea what they were talking about. It was all a complete mystery to her.
When she was only twelve, she'd been captured by ogre slavers who raided her village, and despite her best efforts to escape, she'd eventually found herself in the possession of these two gnomes. They weren't REALLY bad, she thought, and they fed her well -- though she sometimes didn't recognize the meat -- and they treated her nicely most of the time, apart from calling her mean names and shouting a lot, but the main thing that kept her from trying a little harder to escape was that the work was very interesting...

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.'