The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Tucha.

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 tattered paperback on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Tucha' scribed in bright white ink.

Author:    Tucha          
Date:      Thu Mar 27 15:23:59 2014
Subject     A bit of a history of Tucha

Sighing with boredom, Tucha muses about how she ended up, spending her free time, trying to use her dagger and pierce the guard of the dressmaker mannequin. When will she learn to hold her temper. Born in a Dargonesti seaport village, Tucha was tiny, petite even for an elf. Her huge almond shaped eyes were iridescent, like liquid sapphires, her nose pert, her long hair was silver-white, especially in the moon light. Growing up youngest, her siblings teased her constantly, especially about her minute size, calling her a gnome or worse. But when her temper was aroused, look out. Tucha would stand still, her hands at her side, her eye flashing and magic would fill the room causing everyone to seek cover. That was how she got her name. After one such episode, her father took Tucha in his arms, calming her, "My daughter, you must learn to control your temper. You are like a stormcloud, a Tucha, appearing suddenly, a flash of lightning and then everyone runs indoors." That name stuck and soon everyone in the village called her Tucha. On her name day on her 18th birthday, Tucha looked at her reflection in the nearby stream, smoothing her pale blue robe. On this day, the village elders would decide if she was ready to study with Shamaness Tair, to take her place defending and protecting the village. After what seemed an eternity, the elders summoned her to their tent, each face solemn and unsmiling. Nervous, she entered the tent and curtsied, giving her name and family. At first the test seemed easy - she answered their questions and relaxed in their presence. However, then disaster struck. One of the elders spoke up. "Tucha, tiny one, is your magic strong enough? Can you light the ceremonial candle here in the tent?" Tucha felt her temper rising, and took a deep breath. "Of course, as you request." Summoning her power, she closed her eyes, picturing the candle in her mind. Opening her eyes, she gave the word of power, but her robe slipped over her fingers and began to burn. Panicking now, Tucha pulled back the burnt sleeve and released all her power, a bright light erupted in the room, setting the tent on fire. Soon calls for water were heard and at last the fire was extinguished. The elders met in secret and then called Tucha back into the tent. The elder sighed deeply. "Tucha, you have demonstrated that you are not ready. How can we teach you even stronger magic. The entire village could be destroyed." Blinking back tears, the petite elf stared back at the elders, her future ruined. "No", was all she replied at first. Then in a quiet but determined voice, "so be it. I will find others to teach me and who knows, perhaps someday the village will proud of me." That was how Tucha ended up an apprentice War Witch. You might want to stand back if she ever gets mad.

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