The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Snorgle.

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 concise treatise on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Snorgle' scribed in burnt grey ink.


Author:    Snorgle        
Date:      Mon Oct  9 13:31:14 2017
Subject     Reality Bites

Behold, the dance of life and death. Snorgle and the wolf circled each other, goblin red eyes and golden wolf eyes locked. The wolf had its black lips peeled back, exposing its slavering jaws and long sharp teeth. Snorgle had his spear raised in his left hand, poised to strike. The wolf dropped low, and a deep throated growl rose from its throat. Snorgle shook his spear, the two rat skulls tied under the sharp point rattling together in answer to the wolf's threat. Snorgle tensed, and as the wolf leaped at his throat, he thrust out, releasing the spear in a throw. The blow struck true, the spearpoint entering through the wolf's open jaws and exiting out the back of its skull. Mid leap, the wolf went boneless and landed with a thud to the ground, rendered harmless in death. Bending down, Snorgle grapsed the haft of the spear and gave a jerk, removing the weapon from the corpse with the sickening sound of steel sliding over dead meat. He shoved the stick point down into the forest floor, and took out his skinning knife, flipping it and catching it by the handle. He approached the corpse. Winter wasn't too far off now, and a nice wolfskin cloak might be exactly what he needed. He crouched down and made his first cut, slitting the wolf down the middle. He expected blood, but not what happened next. A handful of objects fell out onto the ground. He picked one up, his brow wrinkling in confusion. It appeared to be a braised turkey drumstick. Snorgle held it under his nose and sniffed. It smelled normal, but he didn't trust it enough to eat. He reached into the slit in the wolf's belly, and was even more confused by what happened next. He pulled out a leather drinking skin, about half filled with liquid based on the sloshing he heard from inside. Snorgle placed the skin on the ground, and reached into the dead wolf once more. He felt a handful of small objects. Pulling them out, he noticed they were small tiles, some of wood, some of cork, some of exotic materials like dolemite, each with a small letter in Common inscribed upon it. One had an "O", another a "Q". What in the world could these be for? And how did they ever get INSIDE a dead wolf? Snorgle began to feel uneasy. This wasn't natural. He thought of what the shamans said, that reality itself was out of balance, the gods had turned their backs on the world, and strange things like this might start to occur. Dropping the handful of tiles, he reached a trembling hand back inside the wolf again. He came out holding a collection of various dice of different sides. Small cubes, little pyramid shapes, and more exotic many sided dice. He flung them to the ground, now becoming frightened. He looked down at the wolf in disgust, now. What was going on? Standing up and brushing the leaves from his legs, he studied the tableau before him. A dead wolf, and an armload full of useless items that just seemed to appear on its corpse, more than should have been possible without magic. Snorgle back up a few steps, turned, and began walking back towards his village at a quick pace. Soon, he was trotting. He finally broke into a run. Snorgle decided that he had enough warm pelts in his tent. Enough for winter after all.

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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