An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Selfan.

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 metal bound tome on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Selfan' scribed in maroon ink.

Author:    Selfan         
Date:      Wed Dec  2 14:29:28 2015
Subject     You've got Lanfer

Selfan gave the messenger an incredulous look. "Surely, you're mistaken."
He knelt down, getting a sense of his surroundings. Selfan felt a moment of
shock. He's here... In Palanthas.

Selfan burst through the door, sheathing his awkward daggers that for
whatever reason do not use a stabbing motion when striking. He cursed the
daggers, and the damned Quest Master who would sell such a bizarre and
useless creation. They will have to do, he thought. He made his way onto the
docks, stopping for a mere moment to get a better sense of the direction of
his prey.

Just as he reached the door of the local potion shop, a strange sensation
began to gnaw at him, slowing his pace. For a moment, he thought he saw
Emperor Teague manifest in the air. He shook his head, attempting to remain
focused. But why was he naked, and who were those young kids in the room. He
shook his head one last time to clear the image before entering the shop.

There he stood, Lanfer, a prey that had alluded the Orlouge for many years.
Some thought him to have fallen ill, with his trail going cold so many years
ago. Selfan had assumed him to be dead, what with the Dragonarmy presence
being almost absent from the world but for the occasional spotting of a
lacky.

I must be quick, Selfan reminded himself. Surely Teague will be here in an
instant to come to Lanfer's defense. And then a horrible realization came
over him, Why would Lanfer be standing here, obviously injured, just sifting
through a pile of equipment. It's a trap! He leapt back through the door,
bracing for impact.

But nothing happened. How strange. He unsheathed the twin daggers, leaping
toward Lanfer as the blades slimed him in an awkward and nonsensical motion.
The man let out a girlish squeel as he collapsed ot the floor. Selfan
quickly rummaged through his belongings, quickly grabbing what he could
hold. He felt nauseous for a moment, as he realized most of the stolen goods
were quite sticky, yet not a drop of blood was seen. The Teague sighting
began to make a little more sense now, as Selfan made his best effort to
stop himself from vomiting as he approached the Orlouge.

Word would soon spread of his attack, and surely the city would be swarming
with Dragonarmy members. He quickly gave the order to set sale for Sanction,
and made his way below deck to hand off the equipment to be washed. The men
gave him a strange look as he left the room, turning back for only a moment.
"That's not mine."

A cold shower was just what he needed to clear his head. He quickly dressed
and made his way above deck, the men still laughing about the strange gear
as he walked past. "What in the hell are we still doing in Palanthas!" 

Author:    Selfan         
Date:      Wed Dec  2 14:55:28 2015
Subject     You've got Lanfer

Selfan gave the messenger an incredulous look. "Surely, you're mistaken."
He knelt down, getting a sense of his surroundings. Selfan felt a moment of
shock. He's here... In Palanthas.

Selfan burst through the door, sheathing his awkward daggers that for
whatever reason do not use a stabbing motion when striking. He cursed the
daggers, and the damned Quest Master who would sell such a bizarre and
useless creation. They will have to do, he thought. He made his way onto the
docks, stopping for a mere moment to get a better sense of the direction of
his prey.

Just as he reached the door of the local potion shop, a strange sensation
began to gnaw at him, slowing his pace. For a moment, he thought he saw
Emperor Teague manifest in the air. He shook his head, attempting to remain
focused. But why was he naked, and who were those young kids in the room. He
shook his head one last time to clear the image before entering the shop.

There he stood, Lanfer, a prey that had alluded the Orlouge for many years.
Some thought him to have fallen ill, with his trail going cold so many years
ago. Selfan had assumed him to be dead, what with the Dragonarmy presence
being almost absent from the world but for the occasional spotting of a
lacky.

I must be quick, Selfan reminded himself. Surely Teague will be here in an
instant to come to Lanfer's defense. And then a horrible realization came
over him, Why would Lanfer be standing here, obviously injured, just sifting
through a pile of equipment. It's a trap! He leapt back through the door,
bracing for impact.

But nothing happened. How strange. He unsheathed the twin daggers, leaping
toward Lanfer as the blades slimed him in an awkward and nonsensical motion.
The man let out a girlish squeal as he collapsed to the floor. Selfan
rummaged through the pile of Lanfer's belongings, quickly grabbing what he
could hold. He felt nauseous for a moment, as he realized most of the stolen
goods were quite sticky, yet not a drop of blood was seen. The Teague
sighting began to make a little more sense now, as Selfan made his best
effort to stop himself from vomiting as he approached the Orlouge.

Word would soon spread of his attack, and surely the city would be swarming
with Dragonarmy members. He quickly gave the order to set sale for Sanction,
and made his way below deck to hand off the equipment to be washed. The men
gave him a strange look as he left the room, turning back for only a moment.
"That's not mine."

A cold shower was just what he needed to clear his head. He quickly dressed
and made his way above deck, the men still laughing about the strange gear
as he walked past. "What in the hell are we still doing in Palanthas!" 

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