The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Targaard.

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 large tome on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Targaard' scribed in green ink.

Author:    Targaard       
Date:      Thu Nov 19 21:26:26 2015
Subject     Check out my Wang

This is a repost, but this is was an rp that needed to go longer. -A former Wang

Author: Targaard Date: Thu Nov 19 23:48:10 2015 Subject A Shadow Over Kalaman (I)

A Shadow over Kalaman Chapter 1: An Assignment (I) Zephyra Balmorr strode down the length of the corridor, her footfalls echoing off the high walls. She was on the sixteenth floor of the North Tower of Wayreth. Her red robes whisked quietly along with each step. She glanced over at her guide, a sour faced young apprentice holding out a candle before him to help light their way. They passed torches at intervals, but the hallways were cavernous, so the torches didn't so much as illuminate the whole as leave the occasional small pool of light to keep the darkness at bay. Neither spoke. A summons to the chambers of Archmage Filthron Starsong was rarely a pleasant occurance. This poor man must be serving on the Archmage this evening. Zephyra remembered her own time as an apprentice, which only ended a few short years ago. She supposed she had often worn that frustrated expression on her own face during that time. Apprentices often didn't realize that the Conclave valued physical labor and servitude as excellent methods of building character, and quickly learned that much of their time in the Tower of High Sorcery would be spent attending their elders by running messages, serving at table, and laundering clothes. Dreams of magical adventures and feats of great power were soon quashed when one realized they'd spend as much time in the Tower library arranging books as reading them. She could make out the end of the corridor up ahead, just past the next pair of torches. The big, heavy oak door marked the entrance to Archmage Filthron's study. Another apprentice waited in attendance next to the door, leaning against the wall in a slumped posture. It brought a ghost of a smile to Zephyra's lips. They should enjoy this time, instead of ruing it, she thought. Soon, they'll know the meaning of real responsibility. The almost smile became a full on frown. When I was in their place I could not wait to take the Test. Like her, when she was in their place, these youths were probably gnashing their teeth waiting for the opportunity. The baby wailed where it lay on the ground, reaching for her with chubby arms. My eyes, she thought. She has my eyes. Blinking away tears, she turned and walked away from her child. I have no child! She thought, her mind returning to the present. It was just an illusion, just part of her Test. But it felt real. Her guide cleared his throat, and the other apprentice lounging against the wall snapped awake, smacking his head against the door in the process. He yelped out an oath, then, rubbing the back of his head, flushed as he looked at Zephyra. 'My apologies, Magus.' he stammered. She raised an eyebrow cooly, having learned that silence is often preferable to bluster or indignation in such situations. The apprentice used the heavy iron ring to knock twice against the door, then grabbed the handle and pulled it open. Her guide indicated she enter, so she stepped over the threshold as he followed at her heels. The door was closed behind them as she approached the great desk which sat in the middle of the study. (End Part I)

Author: Targaard Date: Thu Nov 19 23:54:30 2015 Subject A Shadow Over Kalaman (II)

A Shadow Over Kalaman Chapter 1: An Assignment (II) The room itself was quite grand, and lived up to the expectations one would have about the private study and laboratory of an Archmage of the Conclave. It was airy and spacious, with shelves lining the walls. There were shelves of books and shelves of glassware, pouches of spell components and many other oddities besides. Here an animal skull sat atop a huge leather bound tome, there a bubbling flask rested next to a silver platter upon which a jewel encrusted dagger lay. On the opposite wall, a huge fireplace reared, the flames crackling merrily away inside. On the hearth, a grizzled old tomcat stretched, squinting at the newcomers who interrupted his rest. Filthron Starsong might not get on so well with people, but his fondness for cats was well known, and he always kept his favorite as his familiar. The old grey tom was as mean as his master, who sat behind the great desk in the room's center. He was studying a brittle old scroll, and had yet to acknowledge the presence of Zephyra. The word to describe the Archmage was "old". Actually, "ancient" might be more appropriate. He was a wrinkled bald prune of a Silvanesti elf, as mean tempered as he was long in the tooth. A haughty, arrogant creature, he was always a trial to deal with. But he was brilliant, and a powerful mage, as well as being one of the most respected members of her Order. His face was gaunt, his head bald with a few whisps of white hair clinging to it. His skin looked like stretched parchment that might rip at any moment. He looked up from the scroll he was studying and his eyes narrowed as he studied Zephyra. Those green eyes were still as sharp as ever, and his mouth twitched, fighting a sneer, as he examined her. Nothing impressed Filthron. Zephyra had occasionally been taught by the leathery old elf during her training, the memories were not fond. After a few more seconds of study, he spoke, although not to her. 'Wine, ' he spat, and the young apprentice leaped to obey. He quickly found a tray of small cannisters and headed over to the fireplace. The old cat opened one eye to examine the interloper. The apprentice began to heat the wine and add the spices. 'Magus Zephyra Balmorr. Are you familiar with Eriane's treatise on The Ethics of Alchemy as Applied to the Balance?' he asked. The question confused Zephyra. Certainly Filthron Starsong hadn't summoned her back to the Tower in order to ask for her opinion on ancient texts! Frankly, he didn't respect her enough to care what her opinion was. This had to be some sort of test. She wasn't very familiar with Eriane's writings, especially a dusty old text on alchemical ethics. She wasn't even sure what that meant. Her palms started to feel clammy, those old memories of past times being upbraided by Filthron kept flitting through her mind. Was she going to be punished? Had she broken some stricture or otherwise let the Order down in some way? Taking a deep breath, she decided honesty was the best policy in this case. 'I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with the work, Archmagus, ' she said in a neutral tone. It would do no good to betray any annoyance while dealing with the prickly old mage. Filthron snorted with derision. 'Yes, I had a feeling you might say that.' he said, before sharply adding, 'Comar! How many times have I told you not to overdo it on the clove? If you can't even properly spice wine, how do you think you'll fare assembling spell components?' The apprentice started at this outburst, causing the spoon of cloves to tumble into the fireplace. He hurriedly grabbed a pair of tongs and fished the spoon out of the flames as the scent of clove strongly filled the chamber. Filthron muttered to himself before turning that sharp eyed gaze back to Zephyra. 'And Tirolan's "On the Manifold Architecture of the Planes"?' he asked.

Author: Targaard Date: Thu Nov 19 23:59:51 2015 Subject A Shadow Over Kalaman (III)

A Shadow Over Kalaman Chapter 1: An Assignment (III) Zephyra bit on her lower lip, trying to figure out where this line of questioning was leading. First he asks about a philosophical book written hundreds of years ago, and now a deeply mathematical tome on advanced high magic? Again, she chose the path of honesty. 'No, Archmagus. I've always been more devoted to keeping the Balance in the matters of the world at hand, ' she answered. 'What you've always been is a poor mage and a worse scholar, ' the Archmage said, voice brisk. 'Comar, finish with that wine and then leave us. I must speak with Magus Balmorr privily.' Apprentice Comar set the tray on the table and poured a goblet of the wine for Filthron. He neither looked at Zephyra nor offered any of the refreshment to her. Bowing to the old elf, he backed his way to the door and left the room in clear relief. Filthron took a sip of the wine and his face crinkled up, looking more like the prune than ever. 'Always too much clove, no matter how many times he's chastised for it. At least you could handle that much, when you were an apprentice.' It was the biggest compliment she had received from him in a long time. What game was he playing? Filthron rarely had time for idle chats, and almost none for compliments. She decided to take the initiative. 'Archmagus, have I been brought here for some purpose besides discussing wine?' He grunted. 'I see wearing the Red Robes has made you even more insolent than you were as an apprentice. You've spent the last year and a half assigned in Palanthas as House Mage to House Garamonde, correct?' 'Yes, Archmagus, ' she replied in a neutral tone. Now things were starting to become clear. Had Lord Garamonde complained of her service? The man--nay, the entire family!--was insufferable. The daughters were flipskirts and trollops to a one, behavior most likely learned by their dear lord father. He spent far more time ignoring his sick wife and pursuing Zephyra than he did looking after his own lands. She had always declined his advances in a firm but respectful way. Had his frustration ultimately forced him to find cause for complaint to the Conclave? She had always performed her actual duties faithfully, if with little passion. She wanted to be out in the world, not stuck in some entitled Palanthian noble house using her magic to make flowers bloom in winter or pretty lights in the sky for the younger children. She also knew that paying her dues in this way would open up greater career possibilities down the road. She wouldn't be a House Mage forever. 'You must be wondering why you were summoned here, ' Filthron said. 'Yes, Archmagus, ' she responded, trying her best not to grit her teeth. Filthron would get to his point when he felt it appropriate. He leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting a response. 'Archmagus, ' she began, taking a deep breath. 'I can assure you, I have performed my duties to the best of my abilities--' 'Yes, yes, I know. It was not by Lord Garamonde's request that you were ordered back to the Tower, but rather, that of the Council. Believe me, Lord Garamonde protested heartily when I sent word to him of your imminent return. He was quite loathe to let you go. It seems he was pleased by your...service to him. To the best of your abilities.' He smirked at her. Zephyra felt a flush bloom on her face. She had never... Trying to keep her voice calm she asked, 'Then may I please ask why the Council wanted me to see you?' 'If there's one area where you are not lacking, it's your dedication to your Art. Yes, I know how much you are willing to sacrifice for the magic, for the Balance.'

Author: Targaard Date: Fri Nov 20 00:04:05 2015 Subject A Shadow Over Kalaman (IV)

A Shadow Over Kalaman Chapter 1: An Assignment (IV) Zephyra placed the squalling child on the ground, resting in the snow. Tears blurred her vision as the baby kicked and tried to roll, the cold snow seeping into the swaddling clothes the babe was wrapped in. There was no way it would live long in such harsh conditions. I'm so sorry, she thought. She couldn't bring herself to say the words out loud. She had to reach the library. She turned away and stepped towards the stone archway. 'I was present for your Test.' Filthron continued. 'You've shown you're willing to do whatever it takes to serve the Order. You've been recalled from House Garamonde not as punishment, but because the Council feels you're ready for an assignment.' Zephyra was taken aback, for once, the horrific memories of her Test pushed aside. This would be her chance. A real assignment! She could distinguish herself and earn a place doing real field work. Something more challenging than using magic to heat some Garamonde's bathwater. She didn't know what to say. 'I...thank you, Archmagus.' Filthron waved a hand. 'Don't. I was a dissenting voice on the Council. In my opinion, you're far too young and hotheaded for this assignment. But only the lesser consesus was required in this matter, and what the Council decrees, I will enforce, despite my personal thoughts on the matter.' He reached over the desk, and pulled out a small leather bound book, the type used for a personal journal. 'Magus Zephyra, the Conclave has decided to send you to bring a Renegade to justice.' Her heart started pounding as Filthron handed over the journal. She opened it, and the first page showed a sketch of the face of a human man. 'All the relevant details are contained in this book, ' Filthron began. The picture in the book showed an average looking human, a little into his middle years, with hair to his shoulders and creases on his face. 'The target's name is Targaard Patrov. As you can see, he's a human male. Middle aged by your standards. He's probably seen around fifty to fifty-five winters. We've been tracking him for some time.' She flipped a couple of pages. They appeared to contain known details of the Renegade's early life. Filthron continued. 'We have reason to feel that this man is dangerous. Several deaths have taken place in strange circumstances around him that have never been explained, and he's quite good at avoiding notice by the Conclave. We've had several of our mages come close to apprehending him over the years, but he's slipped between our fingers every time.' She nodded, to show that she was indeed listening, but continued to flip through the pages of information, scanning each one briefly. 'Preparations for your visit to Kalaman have already been made. The sooner you can prepare, the sooner you may go.' She looked back up at the elf. 'Kalaman?' Filthron nodded grimly. 'His last known location. He is serving as a ship's mage on a ship called the Orlouge. I must impress upon you the import and danger of this mission, Zephyra. This is no game. This man is out there using unregulated magic, and people have died as a result. Do not underestimate him. Do not draw attention to yourself, and by Lunitari's red gaze do not give any indication that you're associated with the Conclave. Is that understood?' Just like that, she was the student again, and he the teacher. She understood the danger. She wasn't some new apprentice who thought he held the world in his hands. 'Yes, Archmagus. Targaard Patrov will be brought to justice. I promise I will not fail you.' 'See that you don't, Zephyra. You are dismissed.' * * * * * * * * * *

Author: Targaard Date: Fri Nov 20 00:05:09 2015 Subject A Shadow Over Kalaman (V)

A Shadow Over Kalaman Chapter 1: An Assignment (V) Back in the quarters provided for her, Zephyra began to pack her things. She would leave in the morning. The open book lay next to her satchel on the bed, open to the sketch of Targaard. He looked like a normal man in his middle years. But even normal men could be dangerous. She had changed out of her red robes, into a simple brown woolen dress. It was something a farmwife might have worn. Placing a few more pouches into the satchel, she picked up the small book and put it in as well. Finally, she would be out in the world actually doing something! This would be her chance to make her mark on the world. (End of Chapter 1)

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 825 books from Ansalon from before the great Cataclysm through today.'