The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Sandolin.

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 'Sandolin' scribed in light grey ink.



Author:  Sandolin
Date    Tue Feb 19 23:48:19 2002


Subject  So long Haven



It was a stormy, dark night when I left home.  A boy of 17, not knowing where
my life would go, and not really caring either.  I just knew I wanted
something else out of life than to have to live in this town.  Haven held
nothing of interest for me anymore.  I wanted to see the world and have some
adventure in my life, but all my friends, well, they didn't.

My father, may the Blue Phoenix rest his soul, was a Knight of Solamnia.  I
didn't get to hear his exploits, for my mother was never too impressed by him.
 What can I say?  Nothing special about our family.  He worked hard, but was
average, just like his father, and just like me.  He died honorably, a duel
lost to one of the more honorable members of the Dragonarmy.  The man he lost
to, who's name escapes me, later died in an assault.  I kept track of this,
bitter that I'd never get to avenge my father's death, but happy in the
knowledge that he'd been killed in battle, thus still ending the story
honorably.

Honor?  Was it worth it?  Devoting your whole life to honor and the pursuit of
the Knighthood? My father seemed to think so.  I wonder if that's what's right
for me.  I guess only time will tell.  Time and a little faith in the Gods. 
Habbakuk had been my family's patron deity for years.  I hope the Blue Phoenix
watches over me as I travel, both for enjoyment, and to find myself.

Sandolin



Author:  Sandolin
Date    Fri Apr 26 19:01:51 2002


Subject  Kalaman



The town of Kalaman held little to comfort Sandolin, but much to interest him.

It seemed everywhere he turned, there was something new he hadn't seen before.

He'd also learned a great deal about defending himself.  His sword always
needed to be honed to just the right shine, the blade was always kept sharp
and ready, for Kalaman was a town you didn't want to be caught dead in. 
Literally.

On such a day, he had stumbled out after a good bit of gambling in the local
inn.

He wandered down the road to the local greasy spoon to get a good meal in
before he went to bed.  Sober, he checked out the place, and noting that since
the smell didn't immediately cause him to be ill, he decided to take a seat
and order whatever sounded best.

The stew beef was simmered in what could only be explained as water with every
herb under the sun.  The stuff was strong and had to be forced down, but he
ate.  In between swallows, he noted a few miscreants about, a goblin with a
serrated blade sitting in his lap, and an ogre beside him, with no visible
weapon.  Inwardly he thought to himself, "He needs no weapon to enhance brute
strength."

After finishing dinner, Sandolin got up and headed for the door.  A black haze
surrounded his vision about halfway out of the establishment as the ogre's
hands felled him near the doorway.

The duo fell upon him, taking his money, but were quickly set upon by the
local guardsmen, walking a patrol at just that time.  Sandolin struggled to
get his wits about him to get up and to run like the clappers, but could only
move slowly.  As he was standing he saw the officers quickly making work of
the goblin and the ogre, one of them taking a stab wound in the gut as the
treacherous head of the goblin was cut from its torso.

Sandolin fumbled to his feet, seeing the officer drop to his knees, and walked
over to the two.  His patrol partner frantically ran down the street,
screaming something that sounded like A cry for help, but he couldn't tell. 
Too much was clouding his senses.

He couldn't remember what happened next in great clarity.  Sandolin dropped to
his knees, calling out to his patron deity, "Habbakuk!  Please help this man,
Don't let him die for saving me!"

The words were few but the meaning was great.  He clutched the guardsmen,
noticing a sudden blue shimmer surrounding the guard's body.  Where was it
coming from?

The belly wound, slick with blood, was closing right before his eyes. 
Sandolin looked down and noticed with great fear that the blue aura was coming
from his own hands!  As the wound had almost closed fully, Sandolin dropped
the body of the guard and ran screaming down the street in utter terror,
unable to grasp what had just happened.

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

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