The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Sirroc.

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 leather bound tome with glowing glyphs on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Sirroc' scribed in unearthly maroon ink.

Author:    Sirroc         
Date:      Mon Sep 28 15:14:37 2015
Subject     Reflections on a beginning Part 1

Every day had been the same since I'd been bought as a child. Wake before my master, do chores for the man who would one day start my training, eat the scraps left over from his breakfast, do more chores, eat the scraps left over from lunch, do more chores, eat the scraps left over from supper, get beaten for all the things I'd done wrong during the day and then finally get to sleep after listening to him whine about how his own studies were going really badly due to my inability to keep the caves we lived in clean and tidy enough. As I grew up and could assume more responsibilities my master heaped them on me and along with them came more chances to be punished. The first day I received my own slave to help with the extra chores I was beaten for my slave not doing his work properly and then later beaten again for not beating my slave for failing to do their tasks, despite knowing they had done them properly. I knew what he wanted me to do, he wanted me to lash out in anger at those who below me out of anger and frustration but a little voice in my head stopped me from doing that. A cool calming soothing voice, one I thought I recognised but didn't know. That's not to say that those who server me went unpunished, if they failed to carry out their duties I reasonably assigned to them they were whipped as harshly as I had ever been whipped but where my master only handed out punishment for failure I handed out punishment for failure and I handed out praise for jobs well done. I turned his worthless rejects in to useful tools around me. I still never had enough time to dedicate to the practice of the magical arts I had picked up from texts while cleaning and tiding his laboratories. Laboratories in which he did the most profane and defiling rituals and was most careless about removing clues about how to cast the magicks he was performing. I don't know if it was intentional or not but his carelessness allowed me to start learning how to project magical energies offensively. The first time this happened was almost catastrophic, I'd dropped a small cask on my foot and out of anger lashed out at it mentally, only to be astonished as it exploded embedding shards of wood deep in my shins. I was a lot more guarded with my thoughts after that. It wasn't long after that that I was able to start detecting the magical energies he used during his experiments. I was most intrigued by the crystal balls he had around the laboratories and I soon learned how those were powered too.

Author: Sirroc Date: Sat Oct 3 15:28:18 2015 Subject Reflections on a beginning Part 2

It was shortly after this that I first became aware of the first tier of slaves he kept closely guarded. I don't know how I had missed their presence but now that I knew of them it was difficult to ignore the glimpses I got of them as they were moved in and out of their hiding places. There were never more than three of them, one always blonde, one always brunette and one always a red head. He obviously chose them for their beauty, poise and composure, although towards then end each of them always looked haggard and their spirit was broken. The bold beautiful women became scampering whimpering hags. Each woman typically lasted 3 months before she was replaced with a new slave. What happened to them I never discovered but I do know they never left. It was during the delivery of a new slave that our normal routines were thrown in to turmoil. As the slaver was leaving a lone mage, claiming to be an Emissary from The Tower and clad all in black, stepped through a hole in reality and demanded an audience with my master. I never saw the mage leave but later when I was cleaning the study hey used I did have the opportunity to study the magical energies that remained, they were similar to those in the courtyard and I assumed that the mage had left the same way he had arrived.

Author: Sirroc Date: Sat Oct 3 15:30:34 2015 Subject Reflections on a beginning Part 3

It wasn't long after that day that things started getting worse for all of us. He'd lash out at any sounds that startled him, punish us for glances he called suspicious and the three slaves he kept hidden in his secret chamber deteriorated more quickly than previously. It wasn't even 2 weeks before I discovered the body of the first girl. Something that had never occurred before, she was bound in a summoning circle and mutilated but I could tell from the wounds that that was not what had killed her. The other slaves were reluctant to help bury her but with the right persuasion they did. A week later I discovered the second of his slaves dead again in a summoning circle. This time she was even more viciously mutilated and there were strange claw and teeth marks all over her body. The other slaves were even more reluctant this time to help me clean up the mess and give her a proper burial but again with some coaxing and threats of severe punishment I managed to persuade them to help me. The day before the slave trader was due to deliver new slaves, I discovered the body of the last of his slaves or what I think was her body. The twisted and torn flesh inside the confines of the circle was only recognisable as human because of the hair, nails and teeth that were bloodied from their separation from the body. I didn't even try to get the other slaves to help me bury her but instead spend all day and almost all night digging the hole for her in the hard ground. It was with bloodied blistered hands from digging all night and covered in dust in dirt that I first saw my master's new slave. I happened to stagger out of the side passage in to the main hall on my way back to my quarters when the slave master delivering her removed the hood. To say she was beautiful would be an understatement and the fiery indignation in her eyes was almost not containable and yet she stood there proudly. Her waist length hair cascading down in tiers of midnight black, crimson red and almost golden honey. My master threw an almost over heavy bag of coins at the slaver's feet and before the slaver could bend down to pick them up he had come forward to grab her manacles and dragged her off to his quarters.

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