An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Mwagdun.

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 paper booklet on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Mwagdun' scribed in faded purple ink.

Author:    Mwagdun        
Date:      Tue Nov 27 19:09:03 2018
Subject     The Shadow in the Dark

The black velvet robes of the mage flutter in the gentle breeze as he
exits the darkness of the forest into the circle of light created by the
fire. The three massive figures that sit huddled around the fire casually
look up from their gruff conversation to examine the newcomer. All three
make to rise and confront the mage, but the spell-user moves quickly. His
hand emerges from a pouch and as he speaks words of magic, he lets sand fall
from the hand of his outstretched arm. The two ogres to his left collapse to
the ground, fast asleep. The sand stops falling as the mage levels his hand
at the third ogre. The ogre freezes where he is, his hand just short of his
club and fear playing clearly across his face.

"I have come for your magic user. The domain of magic is for the moons alone
and he must submit to the Tower if he wants to be allowed to use the arcane.
Otherwise, he can face death by my own hand,"  the mage speaks with a hollow
voice that seems to echo from the darkness under the hood of his robes.

A low chuckle emerges from the forest behind the standing ogre, and without
the usual noise from the undergrowth, the form of a fourth ogre solidifies
from the shadows of the forest. Stepping into the light, it is clear that
this ogre is different from the others. While shorter, he is far more
muscular and instead of the mottled yellow skin that the others share, this
ogre has smooth skin of a turquoise color.

With the appearance of this ogre, the final of the three seems to become
emboldened a bit and grabs his club in preparation of an attack. "I am
prepared to die,"  the fourth speaks plainly.

Seeing that the other magic user will not subject himself to the Tower, the
mage raises his hand and begins speaking in the arcane once more and lets
more sand fall from his hand. The ogre gripping his club falls quickly to
the ground, but the fourth ogre staggers slightly under the magic as his
eyes lull back into his head. Then he stands strong and his eyes snap open
with clarity. A wicked grin crosses his face as he starts towards the magic
user.

The Conclave mage switches to more deadly spells, spouting off words of
magic at the charging ogre and pulling out a seemingly endless supply of
components. The ogre goes from a walk to a run, stepping right through the
fire standing between them. As each offensive spell comes his way, he bats
them away with his hands as if they were mosquitos trying to bite him. Each
spell ricochets off his hands and flies into the forest, damaging the
surrounding trees and even starting small fires in places. Not one of the
spells hits is mark as the ogre makes it to the mage. With a wide swung
backhand, he sends the mage flying backwards to hit the tree several feet
behind him.

Then, the ogre is on him, smashing his fists into the man's head. Each swing
of his fists, nearly the size of the man's head, find its mark. The man's
head bounces between fist and tree several times before the ogre grasps him
by the throat and picks him up to eye level. "My name is Mwagdun and I am
Ogre-Magi! Your Tower and its laws will never hold power over me. I serve
only Darklady!"

In a last ditch effort, the mage pulls out a glass rod and a piece of fur
from one of his pouches, but before he can gurgle up the magic words needed,
the ogre-magi grasps his hand and squeezes. The glass rod shatters, along
with the bones in the mage's hand as the man lets out a scream. "Tell your
Tower to not pursue me, or I will send their messengers back without hands
next time."

The mage tries to sputter a response through the blood, but is cut short as
Mwagdun's free hand pummels his face over and over. Before darkness final
begins to settle in, only the shadowy outline of the ogre remains. Finally,
the mage falls unconscious, his mission a failure. 

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 869 storytellers on Ansalon pen their epic stories here for all to read.'