The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Sivaan.

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 small volume on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Sivaan' scribed in burnt brown ink.

Author:    Sivaan         
Date:      Mon Oct 26 02:23:05 2015
Subject     The hunt continues..

"Wait!" one of my bozaks, Blashik, whispered in my ear as I was raising my arm. "The spell has not yet taken a hold of him." The wizard before us was reciting a long incantation from a scroll. I could feel the magic charging in the air around me, but the bozaks understood the arcane arts better than I. I heard the volume in the mage's voice rise and Blashik hissed: "NOW!" I raised my sword and pointed it towards the wizard. Two dark shapes flashed from shadow to shadow; kapaks flanking the figure a second before I leapt forward, sword raised and wings out-stretched. Two arrows whizzed past me, both finding their mark, their poison no doubt already working its way into the magus' bloodstream. The mage whipped around to face the source of the projectiles and found me diving towards him. For his part, the wizard glanced down at his scroll and continued the spell. I felt space warp in front of me as the spell reached completion. The mage let go of the burning scroll and spoke a few short syllables in the language of magic. I raised my shield as lightning issued from his fingertips which saved me from the worst of the damage. Thrown off by the wizard's formidable reactions, my sword swing was wide and he danced aside easily. The two kapaks found themselves having to re-maneuver to avoid the portal that had formed, not knowing where it might take them. In a last ditch effort I swung my shield at the magus, catching him squarely in the chest and knocking the wind out of him. He crumpled backwards and I tried to press the attack. He glanced up and tumbled backwards, into the portal and out of our reach. We stared at the portal for a moment as it faded and glanced around the room, each trying to blame the wizard's escape on each other. Fortunately, the wizard had left behind one of his bags. I motioned Blashik towards it. "Grab that. It no doubt has magical protections. If you do not think you can safely open it, keep it safe until we meet up with our forces." I re-sheathed my unbloodied sword on my back and hissed a curse.

Author: Sivaan Date: Wed Mar 9 00:47:26 2016 Subject The First Trough

Sivaan could smell the rot of freshly decomposing corpses long before he saw the source of the smell. It lingered in the air and wove its way through the trees of the forest, drawing scavenger and predator alike. Following the destruction wrought by the auls' voyage from where they had unloaded the ships had been easy; the Highlord would be pleased. As trees began to thin, a kapak wormed his way through the other draconians to Sivaan and saluted. Sivaan stopped and returned the salute as the Fangs continued their march forward. "Commander Sivaan, the town is about a mile ahead. The hobgoblin left a couple dozen behind to guard the corpses." Sivaan gave a begrudging nod of approval. "Good. Rejoin your Fang." The kapak saluted and left, and Sivaan continued moving. The commander was still unsure if Qahsoud was more clever than he looked or just lucky, but keeping the aurak's subjects safe from scavengers had most likely saved Qahsoud's life - everyone knew one more slip-up would be the hobgoblin's last. A quarter hour later, Sivaan crested the small hill overlooking the town of Que-Fallan. The goblinoids had already moved to one side of the town and stood staring in awe at the steady flow of draconians streaming in. Unbeknownst to them, they were the first outside the Black Wing to see this many Fangs at once - and the Fangs that had undead under their control were still a day behind. Taking a deep breath of satisfaction, Sivaan motioned his staff forward. Drawing a line in the air with his clawed finger, Sivaan commanded: "I want a trench and rampart from there to there and around there." Pointing into the distance he continued: "Krish's Fang there, Hotep's there, Boter and Tsakar's Fangs there and Kull's Fang there. The auraks and bozaks will begin tomorrow at sunrise, as will construction of the holding ditch." With a nod from Sivaan, the staff, each knowing his responsibilities, broke from the commander. "Terk!" Sivaan said loudly to one of his sivak pages, "send those things ahead to Qahsoud, " with a gesture to the goblins and hobgoblins. "Better yet, go as one of them - make sure they keep their mouths shut." Terk smiled hideously and nodded before turning to carry out his task.

Author: Sivaan Date: Thu Mar 24 01:35:57 2016 Subject The Second Trough

"BURIED?!" Sivaan hissed, making no attempt to conceal his anger. The sivak that had briefly joined the auls nodded once and pointed to the west where the goblinoids had buried their dead. Cursing under his breath, Sivaan flexed and relaxed his wings and muttered. It would take a week to disinter those bodies and raise them. "Very well. We've no choice but to cleanup the Fewmaster's mistake. Continue with the fortifications and holding pit, but have the auraks postpone their rituals." The clerk nodded and left to tell Lazar the commander's new orders. "How are we on food?" he said, turning to one of his lieutenants. "We'll be fine, " the lieutenant said, then added with a chuckle "it seems the Que-Mont were preparing for a siege." Sivaan nodded approvingly and dismissed his officers before sitting down to write his report. Qahsoud was getting bold, but inside Sivaan had to agree with his decision. Qahsoud's command over the auls remained tenuous and he had to show them he wasn't the Highlord's puppet - however false it was. * * * * * * * * The incessant groan was boring its way into their heads. The draconians were accustomed to the hundred or so that accompanied a battlefield Fang, not well over a thousand packed into an eight foot deep pit. "If an army comes, the 50 of us will only slow them down.. why in Her name are we even here?" the aurak captain hissed to his fellow officer as he took another swig of the spirits left behind by the Que-Fallan. The sivak he was talking to shrugged. "I think it is more to keep those things {Iin then others out, " he replied as he threw a mostly consumed deer haunch into the pit. He watched idly as the ghouls clawed towards it. "Not like anything would want to get in there.. even the wildlife gives this place a wider berth since our arrival." The aurak finished off the skin of spirits and threw it into the pit. "The commander will rotate us out in a week.. until then, enjoy the spirits, " he said, reaching into his robes and tossing another skin to the sivak. "I doubt we'll ever need these ones, " he said, gesturing to the writhing masses below them. "The auls are bolstering are ranks just fine." Staring off into the pit, the sivak muttered: "That doesn't make this noise any more bearable."

Author: Sivaan Date: Thu Sep 28 13:33:47 2017 Subject Undelivered

Sivaan's features distorted and changed from their natural, draconian appearance to that of the lifeless sailor he dropped to the dusty ground. The Black Wing's intelligence said that the elf messenger was awaiting a ship from Stone Rose and that this would likely be the last opportunity to stop him. Sivaan knew not what information the elf had, only that it shouldn't be delivered. As he entered the city, Sivaan made his way to the river docks in search of the ship that the elf had booked passage on. Fate smiled on him, as the ship was looking for deckhands, and Sivaan signed on, using the name Darrin Teltie. None noticed that his eyes flicked occasionally to the armored elf standing proudly at the ship's bow. The ship set sail the next morning. Sivaan, having been on similar missions countless times before, knew how to interact with the other crew just enough to avoid notice, but not so much as to betray himself. His target had booked one of the ship's two private rooms, the other being used by a minotaur returning to his ship. The elf kept to himself, mostly, which would make killing him and assuming his form easier. Sivaan waited until the final evening before the ship would leave the Stone Rose River to New Sea before striking. He was one of three others working the predawn shift and could easily slip away for more than long enough to kill the elf. He took advantage of his assumed forms size and tone to stealthily make his way to the guest quarters. Sivaan opened the door quickly but quietly, made his way in and closed it behind him. The elf looked up, broken from his trance, and grabbed for a dagger at his bedside. Sivaan was upon him, a dagger of his own in hand. The initial assault caught the elf off guard, but he quickly recovered and soon the two were crashing around the room, engaged in a brawl. The elf fought well and Sivaan's own fighting ability was hampered by his human form. Hoping to finish the fight and take his victims form before any where alerted, Sivaan shifted back to his natural form. The elf felt Sivaan's scaly hands close around his throat and as his vision faded could only see the hideous gleam in his attackers reptilian eyes. Suddenly, the two were knocked over. The minotaur from across the hall had barreled through the doorway, shattering its hinges. Pushing off the wall, Sivaan sprung over the dead or unconscious elf into the minotaur, both crashing through the opposite door. Both unarmed, the two gouged, gored, grabbed and bit until the sound of the crew padding across the deck forced Sivaan to finish the fight. With a surge of strength, Sivaan grabbed the minotaur by the horns and slammed it backwards, splintering the deck. He turned and made for above decks swiftly on all fours, knocking sailors aside. Bursting outside, Sivaan saw it was still not yet dawn. He scampered up the rigging, looked back down once to see his pursuers far below him, and jumped from the mast, spreading his wings. He turned to the northwest and flew away into the darkness, beating his wings occasionally.

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