The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Mikael.

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 gorgious hardback on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Mikael' scribed in rich white ink.



Author:  Mikael
Date    Wed Jul 14 16:15:06 2004



Subject  A Friend's Farewell



Mikael woke with a sigh.  An unpleasant dream yet again.  This was the third
this week.  He'd had them almost every other day.  With a sigh, he tossed off
the silk sheets and stepped out of bed, wearing only leather breeches.  The
padded wooden floor was carpeted with animal furs.  These simple, yet elegant
furbishings were attributed to his status amongst the elves.  Be it that he
was a half-elf, his mother had held high standing.

Since his mother's death, other elves openly referred to him as a bastard
half-human.  Most elves sneered and feigned contempt, yet it was he who
actually was in contempt.  He pitied them and their strict, ruthless,
unbending ways.  With a soft smile he threw on a silk shirt and walked into
his breakfast parlor where his servant had prepared a small meal.  Smiling, he
thought fondly of his only remaining servant.  When his mother died all of the
servants left but one.  He was as loyal to Mikael as he was to his mother.

Finishing his meal, he quickly left for morning prayers.

Although he attended, he did not hear one word spoken throughout the entire
procession.  Paladine was nothing to him.  The only thing that the Platinum
Dragon had done for him was to send one of his Knight's who loved Mikael's
mother and produced him, a bastard Half-Elf.  Or Half-Human as the elves so
contemptly called it.  Mikael hadn't had much training with weapons.  The
yeomen and swordsmen refused to even acknowledge him so he went off of what

It was that day that he had his sservant pack his bags for travel.  Not much
was packed.  There was some light, elven chaimail, a leather tunic, breeches,
bedroll, and some provisions.  He knew enough to survive off the land.  As he
slid on his leather boots, he called for his servant.

"Spring has made it's advent and so must I take my leave of this blessed
place.  I am leaving this house eternally.  And for your services I am
indebted to you.  Thus I am leaving this blessed establishment to you, and am
bestowing my rank upon you.  Congradulations, you are now an esteemed member
of the Elven Society and are no longer part of House Servitor.  Do with this
what you may, it concerns me no longer."


The look of pure astonishment and gratification welled up in his servant's
eyes as they welled with tears of joy. Mikael nodded and slung his bag over
his shoulder. Putting his arm on the elf's shoulder he wished him the best of
luck.

With a smile and a nod, his former servant returned the wish and followed him
to the door. As Mikael stepped out, he turned around to say goodbye to find
his former servant bowing to him. "There is no need for that." The elf
rose and through teary eyes responded, "There is every need, for I will
never forget this day. You are always welcome in my household." With a smile
and a nod Mikael headed towards the elven borders. Just as he reached the
borders he let out a laugh. Elves would never change, within two minutes of
receiving the status and establishment, the old elf was already referring to
it as his.

(To Be Continued)



Author:  Mikael
Date    Sat Jul 17 03:16:02 2004



Subject  Tasting the Forbidden Fruit



Upon exiting the lands of his birth, Mikael headed in the direction of the
Lords of Doom, for there it was rumored that bastard's were received better
than in his homeland.  Pumping his pack up higher onto his pack, he set out by
foot to Sanction.

Not two days later, he joined up with a caravan on it's way to Solace.  Solace
was heard to be en route to Sanction so he sprang at the opportunity to travel
with them.  Amongst them, they had a cleric of Paladine, who talked glibly of
the Queen's Armies.  Of how Paladine would surely triumph over evil.  Being
born and raised with this knowing engraved into his mind, Mikael was surprised
when he heard one of the men, undoubtedly a mercenary, snort in derision.  The
cleric stopped his speech and glared down his long nose at the mercenary who
spoke.  "The Queen's armies will most surely Not be defeated.  As we speak
She gathers Renegade Mages and Heathen Cleric's to Her open, embracing arms. 
Where do you think I travel, the petty town of Solace?  Or perhaps Haven?  "
This got a response from the other men riding with them.  Obviously intrigued,
Mikael knew he had no prowess in the Arcane Arts, nor was he much good with a
sword, so he decided to speak privately with the cleric, who consented,
assuming to convert another to his cause.  Looking even further down his long
nose, the Cleric spoke of the abilities clerics were granted by their God, and
about the Divine Gifts granted by Paladine, whereas the evil Takhisis bestowed
two-edged swords for Her gifts, or so was the rumor.  The Cleric explained how
to receive the powers from the Gods, and Mikael listened on, entranced by just
the thought of the abilites.  Thanking the Cleric for his time, Mikael waited
until nightfall to speak with the mercenary who spoke of Takhisis.  He knew he
must determine which side was to be the winning side, Good or Evil?

When they made camp, Mikael sat by the mercenary and asked him what he knew of
Takhisis.  The mercenary said he knew little else, but what he had afore
mentioned.  Thanking him, Mikael went and bedded down for the night.

That night, he was visited by two contrasting sides of a scale of balance. 
One arrived upon a shining steed, his armor bearing the symbol of the Knights
of Solamnia.  Though his face was but a shining beacon, Mikael was in
reverance of this man who he knew to be no mortal, but Paladine himself.  He
felt warm and embraced, willing to give and help others.  The other visiter
arrived on wings of perpetual death.  Her beauty overwhelmed him, and as he
bowed in reverance to the Queen of Darkness, Temptress, Her darkness enveloped
Paladine's aura, and eventually, he faded entirely.  Smiling, Mikael eased
himself into a blissful sleep in which Her Majesty ruled.  When he awoke the
next morning, he at first felt a divine tugging within his soul, but then it
ceased it's torment, and he was awash with darkness, even as the sun's first
rays peeked over the trembling clouds that seemed strangely unaloof, fighting
back almost the entirety of the suns brilliant rays.  With these new thoughts
and feelings, Mikael felt calm within himself, and looked over to where the
Cleric of Paladine was.  The Cleric looked at him oddly, then shook it off.


The next day, when they arrived in Solace, and the group departed, Mikael went
to talk to the Cleric, but could not find the man. After much searching, he
found that the man had shunned him. For reasons unknown to Mikael, the Cleric
called out the name of Paladine, directed at Mikael. Mikael felt as though the
words were filled with malice. Unconsciously reaching for the medallion that
hung around his neck, he held it up as a bolt of energy sizzled at him.

The bolt fizzled as it came into contact with the medallion. With a gasp, the
Cleric of Paladine let out another cry and this time, disappeared in a
blinding white flash. Stunned and amazed, Mikael looked down at what he held
in his hand, and saw a black medallion, and engraved upon it's surface was the
five-headed dragon of Queen Takhisis.


As he turned towards the Inn of the Last Home, he fingered the medallion
thoughtfully and smiled. He let loose the medallion and let it hang about his
neck in content.



Author:  Mikael
Date    Sun Jul 18 18:29:20 2004



Subject  Crossing the New Sea



Sitting on a roughly hewn wooden bench, Mikael gazed in wonder at the ferry
transporting him across the New Sea.  It creaked and groaned with every step. 
He had no doubt it would just as soon get him across, as it would dump him
into the sea.  Sighing, he crossed his arms and leaned back gently against the
splintered railing.  He imagined how it would feel to have a splinter driven
deep into his neck had he been careless.  Softly closing his eyes, he relaxed
and let the swaying of the boat soothe him into a light, peaceful sleep.

He opened his eyes to find they had crossed the New Sea and no one was left
aboard the ferry except from himself and the captain.  Smiling, he got up and
walked off the ferry...  Into a totally different landscape.  Gone were the
peaceful Vallenwoods.  Gone were the friendly, cheerful faces.  Gone was the
fantasy.  Here was the harsh reality of the world.  The land was dotted here
and there with bushes and trees.  In the distance, the Lords of Doom cackled
triumphantly as they spurted forth writhing hot magma.  It was to there that
Mikael set his eyes.  To there that lay his final destination.

Shouldering his pack, he headed off into the direction of the spurting,
alive-like mountains.  The closer he got, the brighter his medallion shone. 
He could feel Her Majesty as if she were breathing down his neck.  He even
turned around once for he thought She was there.  Within a few days time he
would reach Sanction.

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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