The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Sorinjin.

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 giant book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Sorinjin' scribed in unearthly yellow ink.



Author:  Sorinjin
Date    Fri Aug  2 23:31:40 2002


Subject  Fugitive




"You's the only customer I 'ave t'night. I 'ppreciate yer patronage, but ye
gotta be leavin' now. This 'ere bar don't stay open fer the whole day,
y'know."

"Sorry bartender, let me first finish my drink..."

"Ye been workin' on that drink fer very long a'ready, lad. How about I get
ye an ice cold one, eh? Warm mead ain't good for ye spleen."

"Thanks... It might help drown my sorrow"

"Aw, hell... not one of you's cats again. Okay boy, let it all out now.
What's the matter now, eh?"

"You don't want to know..."

"All you's "melancholic: types always say that jibber. Out wit' it now, lad.
It'll feel better! Let's start wit' ya name"

"...Sorinjin..."

"....Bloody hell. You?!?!"

"I told you... you don't want to know."


"Bah... I've heard stories of draconians being Lord Ariakas' bedfellows, I
reckon yours ain't as bad now... Aint... THAT bad compared to it... eh?"

"Thanks. I guess someone has to know the real truth... Bartender, consider
yourself a lucky man. You can keep it to yourself or you can spread the
news... but I'm sure it will all fall in deaf ears."

----------------------------------------

Sorinjin...

The name still sounds cryptic to me.

You think you know everything about yourself. And just when you think you've
figured it all out, everything changes just like that. You know the old
saying... "you are your worst enemy". My existence brings a whole new meaning
to that. In fact, my existence IS the meaning to that. Redken once told me
that I'm always being followed by trouble. Everywhere I go, trouble is a step
behind. Redken said that no matter how good I am or how noble my deeds are,
trouble would make it otherwise.

And no, Redken isn't a seer, an oracle or even a raving lunatic prophet...

Redken is my fence.

He said being my fence is the most dangerous work he's ever been involved
with. I'm not really a thief... okay, well I don't act like most thieves do.

Ah, who am I kidding. I stole things for money. I'm a thief's thief. It's just
that the jobs I sign up for seem to be like signing up for a death sentence.

Why I do it? I'm not sure. Even the easiest of jobs can become the worst of
nightmares. Lack of skill? Clumsiness? Bad Luck? Doubtful. I would hope that
that is the least of my problems, but it isn't.

I think it's a curse.

Let me tell you why I'm running away...

Author:  Sorinjin
Date    Sun Aug  4 00:20:21 2002


Subject  Fugitive II




Us half-elves probably have it worse that even the Aghar.

At least they have a place to call home.

Qualinesti shuns me. Ergoth shuns me. Hell, even Kender don't want to hear my
stories. I've seen every edge of Ansalon. I've sailed all its seas, walked all
its lands just in search of a place to belong.

I always end up in little bars like this, drinking my time away. I've been
wandering since I was twenty five years old. I'm now ninety three years old.
Ninetey Three. That's almost the end of the road for humans.

I get to live... no... suffer longer. The sad perk of being half elven.

Not all of us can be like the great Tanis Half-Elven, no.

So I figured... If everyone thinks they have the right of the Gods to hate me,
then I have the right to hate them.

You know what's so good about being a ghost? Being someone that doesn't exist
officially? Everything is possible. Sorinjin the Bandit. Sorinjin the Scourge.
Sorinjin the Renegade Mage. Sorinjin the Hunter. Sorinjin the Predator.
Sorinjin the Death Knight. I've even heard Sorinjin the Black Dragon. No one
can trace me to where I live. No one can trace me from my family. The only
person that actually had any sort of connection to me was Redken. And nobody
would ask Redken. Why?

Redken is an Aghar.

I know, I know, an Aghar fence. It's odd. But I can't help but meet other
outcasts. My main trade was thieving. I steal from the rich and give to me. I
get jobs from all sorts of clients. Dwarves who lost their goods from Kender.
Dragonarmy officers losing their equipment to Goblins. Nobles who are jealous
of other nobles' posessions (which sometimes includes wives). I even did a job
for a high ranking Knight Of Solamnia. I've done more taxing jobs before.
Extortion, kidnapping, assasination... And I could get away with just about
everything.

Redken said that when he says "trouble follows me wherever I go", he doesn't
think of it as circumstance. He thinks the "trouble" that follows me is
something else... Some entity. There is always someone who knows what I was
doing. Who knows my methods. Someone who tries to foil my every plan, but
fails to capture me.

Then one day... trouble just happened to walk in the door.

-to be continued-

(OOC: Some things never change... I still overdo my stories =P)



Author:  Sorinjin
Date    Sun Aug  4 19:52:58 2002


Subject  Fugitive III




Intent.

I don't classify them as good or evil, noble or criminal, malicious or
gracious. Intent is just intent. What may be good to some people is evil to
another. Like say... the Knights of Solamnia wanted to build an outpost in the
Qualinesti forests for protection. It's noble of them to watch over their
Elven allies, but at the same time they're desecrating the forests. Cutting
down the trees and using those as materials for their buildings. At the same
time, it becomes a strategic target for the Dragonarmies. And why stop there?
Qualinesti is just a few steps away.

Intent is intent.

I just came back to my shack in the outskirts of Robann, some little city on
the border of Nordmaar and Estwilde. Just came back from a relatively easy
smash and grab job. But unlike my past jobs, this one was flawless. It went
without problems. It was too perfect. I figured I should stash the goods in my
basement until I set off the road to Neraka tomorrow to deliver this sword to
my client.

I'll keep the lights on, just in case.

I was staring at the sword for a while. It was a typical longsword, standard
length and weight, looked to be of elven design. It had a carved message in
Qualinesti on its hilt, which read:

By this sword, I've lost my love.

By this sword, I've lost my will By this sword, I've lost my sense By this
sword, I've lost my home By this sword, I've lost my life If this sword sheds
blood, you shall know what you have lost.

-Paiathel

It sent a chill down my spine. I'm usually not intimidated by messages carved
on inanimate objects, but for some reason... the message on this sword
screamed the truth. I slipped it back into its scabbard and hung it at my wall
of trophies. I repeated the sentence to myself while picturing what the past
owner of this sword experienced. The sword has seen war. It has seen murder.
It has seen intent. It has seen betrayal.

Betrayal.

And just like that, bounty hunters swarmed my shack.

One of them stuck his crossbow to my chin and said 'you are a hard man to
track down, Sorinjin with many names.'

Instinctively, I grabbed the sword and hacked his head off. Crossbow bolts
started flying in my direction. I took cover, then looked at the sword.

Blood slowly crawled from its blade to the hilt, and instead of seeing my own
reflection on its blade...

I saw Redken.

Redken wearing a custom fit dragonarmy officer's armor. Redken sitting on a
pile of gold. Redken raising my head high in the air.

Betrayal.

Who would ever guess that "trouble" was Redken himself. Redken... The only one
I trusted. I was alone again.

You know what was so good about being a ghost? About being someone that
doesn't exist? Everything is possible.

Redken's blood stains this sword. Even Aghars have it better than me.

At least his suffering is over. At least he's already dead.

-Sorinjin Damen-Korin



Author:  Sorinjin
Date    Fri Sep 20 03:02:07 2002


Subject  To Sorinjin, from House Kirinjiru (or, The plot thickens)




By the time this letter reaches you... if it even reaches you in the first
place...

I'll be dead.

It was me who told you to take the Sword from Count Kirinju's keep.

I know everyone has let you down at this point, but if I were still breathing,
then you know you can trust me. For one, I am your half brother, son of Hurdan
Korin. It might seem a little far fetched, but I have devoted most of my life
to finding you, my blood. All this...

the job, the sword, our family, the curse... It's intertwined with a long
vicious circle that you must put an end to. Everything that has happened so
far and what it has to do with you, I shall explain as best I can, with what
little time I have in this world. Had i the time, and the opportunity, I would
help you out myself in the quest, but Alas, my life has been forfeit ever
since that crime.

There was a known killer around Qualinesti, a man who's gone mad by the voices
of Sargonnas he claims he hears wherever he goes. This man was your... our
father. Though I tried to turn myself in to the goodness of Paladine, the
blackness that Sargonnas tainted in his heart flows within me, and you as
well. It's cursed the Korin's blood with many a man's weakness. I for one am a
victim of jealousy. I am amazed you were able to live this long without a care
about your heritage. Had you have known though, would you have even cared?

The sword you posess was once owned by an honorable Knight named Gwathor
D'murin. A high ranking knight of Solamnia, respected amongst his peers and
his enemies. He once defeated a scout party along with two dragons in an open
field with six men, including himself. All without the use of magic, and all
with the use of only swords. No casualties. He was a genius in the
battlefield, and he is just as strong in his heart as well. A man of great
honor and valor. He was my superior. I served under him in thirteen different
battles, all of which I'm proud to say we've bested.

The sword was given by the father of his bride to be, Paiathel Lieth of
Qualinesti, formerly A red robed mage of the conclave. She left the Conclave
and gave up on her studies of magic to be with Lord Gwathor.

Paiathel's father enchanted the sword so that it would not lose its edge, its
lustre and its brilliant glow, yet at the same time, he cursed that very sword
to take Gwathor's life if he has once mistreated his bride to be.

That very sword killed Gwathor, alright. But not because of the curse that was
set into it... It was because of me. I killed Gwathor. I killed him because I
was jealous of him. His life, his endeavors, his reputation...

and especially his wife. I wanted Paiathel for myself, brother. Yes...

But things wouldn't work out so. It seems we Korins are made to suffer from
the blackness of our hearts. You became the Sorinjin Damen-Korin you are now,
and I became Count Kirinju of Lemish. Yes, you stole the sword away from me
for I would not want to see it anymore. For my dishonesty and malice, Paiathel
cursed the sword, as she has cursed our already tainted bloodline.

I'm sure you have seen the various enchantments of the sword. It flies back to
your hand if you were disarmed, it glows brightly in an unlit room and it's
blade can reveal various visions if you smear it with another man's blood. But
it has gained its own enchantments as well ever since my blood stained the
sword.

It's a beacon to all of those who hunt you. It visits their dreams and twists
their mind to the point that they're driven into a mad rage, with their only
focus being you and your death, and them gaining the sword.

I want you to take the sword, and find Paiathel. Find her, and kill her with
that very sword. Only then, will our trouble be banished once and for all.

And another thing. It has one more curse. It can't leave its current owner. If
it ever does, it will come back to slay him. Yes, Sorinjin, I'm waiting for
you.

I want to see you before you take my life. If you're reading this, you
probably already have killed me.



Author:  Sorinjin
Date    Fri Sep 20 03:11:03 2002


Subject  continuation of the letter (or, the plot didn't get that thick, so
here's the part that makes it thicker)




And you would have had no idea until now.

No idea at all.

...Count Kirinju Damen-Korin


......

I don't think I have the courage to do this.

I'm not sure why. It's the sword. I've grown quite attached to it. And the
dreams...

it didn't torment me... it made me feel like I was wanted. Like I had
somewhere to belong.

Like I had a purpose. Like my existence actually means something...

Paiathel.

I've fallen in love with her. Madly in love with her.

Madly.

..

....

........

..... Madly.

-Sorinjin-

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 sighs as he recants 'We saved 803 books from Ansalon from before the great Cataclysm through today.'
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