The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Tyrolan.

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 manilla folder on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Tyrolan' scribed in vibrant orange ink.

Author:    Tyrolan        
Date:      Wed Jun 25 19:21:20 2008
Subject     Background and Petition for the Conclave (Black)

Tyrolan never had a real hard life growing up.  He never had to worry about
money or food.  He never had to fight to get his way.  In fact, the
majority of his childhood would be that of any other child.

He grew up within his Aunt's home in Kalaman.  It was a place that any kid
would give up a years worth of sugary sweets to live. It had crooks and
crannies everywhere!  Being from a well to do family of Silk Merchants, his
Aunt lavished whatever his heart's desire was at the time.  If he wanted to
learn something, she would provide it.

This went on throughout his childhood.  Excitingly learning about
everything he could.  He had texts, tutors, and equiment were at his
disposal.  A typical childhood, albeit a bit excentric and well off.

His affinity for learning things finally caught up to him in school. The
other teenagers scorned him for setting the curve so high. Everytime they
could, they would prank, tease, or bully him as children do.  After a time,
he started to resent this.  Even his childhood friend Cal started to notice
the deep brooding that was starting to billow from him.

Tyrolan would spend days locked away in his room to whatever ends.  The
curtains drawn shut during the day, a single candle lit his room.  He
scoured over his studies, constantly striving to be the best. Near daily,
he would go down to the local book shoppe to keep his interest.

On one day, a particular looking book for beginner magi showed on the
shelf.  "What is that?" he pondered as he ran his hand across the spine of
the book.  It tingled, strangely in a familiar way.  Lifting it from the
shelf, the clerk noticed his interest.

"I see that you found another one..." he stopped short as he noticed
Tyrolan looking over the pages.  "Bah, you sure you want that accursed
thing?" the shop keep stated in disgust.
(to be continued)

Author:    Tyrolan        
Date:      Wed Jun 25 19:30:44 2008
Subject     Background and Petition for the Conclave (Black) 2

(continued) Tyrolan didn't respond right away, looking over the crisp, yet
aged pages.  "Some crazy lady from the south end came to sell me some
books.  Apparently it was one of her deceased husband's. Bunch of devil
worship and spirits, if you ask me."

Looking up from the pages, Tyrolan stated, "I'll take it!" The shop keep
shrugged, finding that his protest would go unheeded. Knowing the teen's
Aunt, he let him run off with it back to her place understanding he'd get
paid soon enough.

The next few weeks were spent memorizing and reading the book.  It was
beautifully crafted.  Black leather bound the book and spine together, with
a simple leather strap for a latch.  It felt warm to the touch and gave the
tingle every time his fingertips brushed the surface.  He knew he had found
something special!

After studying it for those few weeks, he attempted his first cantrip.  It
was simply designed to make a sparkle of light glow and float over his
palm.  A few gestures and concentration of words, the rush of euphoria
washed over his whole and delved to his palm.  For a brief few moments, a
small sparkling light danced and shined over his palm.  Elated, he spent
the next month studying more, trying to get better and better.

As he progressed, the spells grew either more dangerous or larger that he
couldn't very well perform them in his room.  He started to perform out on
the edge of town where he could do so in private.  His privacy, however,
did not last long.  The other teens of the town caught wind of his work.

They watched him, fearfully, as he performed cantrip after cantrip, spell
after spell.  "So the super genius is a freak!" spat out one.

"Yeah!  We should stop him!  we'll be heroes for bringing down a witch!"
another chimed.  All six of them approached him.  Lost in the esctasy of
the magic, he didn't hear them approach. In fact, he didn't expect anyone
to be here at all until something sharp exploded on the back of his head
coursing through his skull.  He fell hard, placing a hand to his head. 
Pulling it back, he noticed the thick red liquid on his fingers.

(to be continued)

Author:    Tyrolan        
Date:      Wed Jun 25 19:41:53 2008
Subject     Background and Petition for the Conclave (Black) 3

"Well, well, well, the genius can't know EVERYTHING, can he?" sneered the
leader of this group.  The others laughed, snickered, and jeered along with
him.  They all held either rocks or sticks of various sorts.  Tyrolan knew
he was in trouble, upset with himself that he didn't notice them, and angry
with this scum that seemed to have the upper hand on him.  "Why don't you
fight back? You know you want too?  What?  Too scared?" stated the leader,
laughing while tossing a rock.  More rocks and cracks of sticks beat
against him.  Dizzy, slowly losing consciousness, he tried to defend
himself as best as possible.

As he started to pass out, a voice slowly sifted into his head. It had the
weight of smoke, yet the slickness of a snake.  It wrapped around his mind,
squeezing, "You can drown these rats. Drown them, burn them, enslave them;
all these are at your disposal."

In his head he cried out, "How!?"

"Pledge yourself to Me.  Give Me your devotion and devote yourself to the
Art.  I will show you how.  I will give you everything you will ever need."
the voice whispered, awaiting a response.

Without hesitating, Tyrolan responded, "Yes!  Give me what I desire and I
will pledge myself to you and the magic you grant!" A spark in his very
being began to burn, hotter, and brighter.  His entire being filled with
it, expanding to soaring heights.  He let himself be sucked in by it,
enveloped in it, and consumed.

Hours must have passed when he awoke.  His eyes slowly focused and adjusted
to the stars twinkling back.  Solinari and Lunitari were already receeding
for the night.  However, another celestial body shown back at him in plain
view.  Nuitari's black light shown brighter than all the stars in the

Standing up slowly, letting the dizziness pass, he looked about the area. 
What had once been a peaceful hill with short green grass and a single tree
is now a smoldering crater of blackened dirt, scorched corpses, and a trunk
of a blackened tree.  A little disoriented and giddy from the experience,
looked around at his handy work.  Noticing out of the corner of his eye
movement, he quickly turned to see his friend, Cal, slowly approaching.
(to be continued)

Author:    Tyrolan        
Date:      Wed Jun 25 19:51:34 2008
Subject     Background and Petition for the Conclave (Black) 4

"What has happened here?  Tyrolan, what have you done?" he stated in horror
in disgust.

"I only did what I had to do," he said coldly.  Brushing himself off, he
started to walk towards Kalaman.

Stepping to block him, Cal pleaded, "We have to go report this!  The guard
will understand that it was self defense!"

Scowling, Tyrolan retorted, "What authority do they have over me?  I have a
higher calling.  Leave it as it is.  The wolves will feast on their

"I knew you have changed, but not like this!" stated Cal.

"What?  Are you going to go and report me?  Will you try to take me in?"
Tyrolan sneered at his friend.

"I have too!  It's my duty to bring you in, even if it was in self
defense!" he responded, continuing to step in his way.

"Do not test me.  We are friends, I'll give you that, but do not intervere
with what I do.  I won't hesitate to kill you!" Tyrolan snarled back.

Cal pulled a shortsword from it's sheath and stood in his path. Pleading,
"You have become a monster!  Please, just let me help you."

Responding coldly, feeling the tingle of the magic again coursing through
his being, "I no longer need your help."  Tyrolan lifted his hand towards
the Cal as he charged and whispered a few words.  The tingling increased
and crept its way up his arm.  A bolt struck out from his fingertip and
struck Cal dead in the chest.  A look of horror and surprise etched forever
on his face as he fell, lifeless.

A voice whispered in his head, "Come to Me.  Let us continue our work and
further the Art.  Come to Palanthas and further your training." He followed
the black light of the dark moon many days until reaching Palanthas, the
great tower that resides there and his fate.

Author:    Tyrolan        
Date:      Sun Jul  6 20:20:06 2008
Subject     Apprenticeship and More!

After the first couple of months of staying at the Towers at Wayreth, going
over multiple different spells over and over, he started to get bored with
it.  Where was the power he was promised?  Where was the glory and rewards
he wanted?

He would leave the Towers whenever the others were not looking.  He had yet
to gain a Master to train under.  All the other new recruits were being
picked up one by one.  Not being under one, gave him the freedom to leave
and travel about the forests and lands surrounding.

As he was getting ready to leave again from the garden, he turned to see a
black robed figure watching him.  Taken back and a bit shocked, he stopped
packing.  Thinking to himself, What is going on with this?

"I can give you what you want," he stated bluntly.

What? he thought.  Was I speaking outloud?

"I see what you desire.  I see your frustrations.  I understand your
desires, as they were once mine," he stated calmly.

Feeling the power flow and surround this blacked robed man even gave
Tyrolan time to pause.  His normal cocky attitude subdued slightly at the
awe of him.

"Can you truly give me what I want?" he asked, not questioning any further
how he knew.

"Certainly.  In fact, there is much more I can show you other than the
towers." he stated.

"What do you mean?  I will not betray the Dark Moon," Tyrolan stated, his
eyes narrowing.

Chuckling, the robed figure shook his head, "Of course not, our first
priority is definitely to the Art and our Master, but I can give you even
more glory than the books sitting in these moldy tombs," he states
flippantly towards the towers,

(to be continued)

Author:    Tyrolan        
Date:      Sun Jul  6 20:30:06 2008
Subject     Apprenticeship and More! (2)

"There is a storm coming and along with it, the clash of steel and the
march of boots. But with it, the glory and rewards we are all looking for.
Apprentice under me and find what you truly wish!"

Pondering this for a few moments, he nodded slowly, "Yes. I will take your
sword. I will take your orders. I will take your sword. I need this and I
will apprentice under you."

Turning to leave, the figure stated, "By the way, you may call me Master Luerk."

Thinking to himself as his new master left, Let's see what this brings me.
Let's see who will win my favor. Chuckling to himself, he turned to go back
to the towers.

Author:    Tyrolan        
Date:      Mon Apr 13 19:48:21 2009
Subject     Events brewing.... has been...stagnant. Tyrolan has been spending weeks,
months, even years studying in the towers of Wayreth. Many of the members of
his order have been out in the field, studying various magical avenues.
There have been a few apprentices coming through, but Tyrolan had very
little care of their prattling. In fact, there has been a slight downturn in
the number of apprentices showing up at his door in comparison to his other

Recently, he has found himself gating to various cities and towns amongst
Krynn. Walking amongst the streets, he sneers at the inhabitants. Without
his self-discipline, he would have torched a number of them. Even though the
rules of the Conclave do not state he could not, he just found that it would
not be enough. 

Sitting upon a rocky crag, near the Lords of Doom, he gazed into the
bubbling, churning, angry lava, spewing its contents about the crater.
Turning his gaze skyward, the black moon shone bright and seemed to cut
through the plume of smoke rising from the Lords. A greasy, slick voice
flowed through his mind.

"You squander your gifts?" asked the voice.

"I do not, Lord, " stated Tyrolan slowly as he bowed to the unseen

"There is more magic you could be learning, more power to be gained, more
magic to be spreading!" the voice stated angrily, scolding. It struck
Tyrolan's mind like a hand to the face, "You spend your days sitting alone
in your lab, going over well known spells." 

Cringing, Tyrolan responded, "My Lord, I do not do so to spite you. Things
just seem to grow slow in Your order." Cautiously, he turned towards the
moon, "It just seems there is more we can do to grow our power." 

Coolly, the voice shifted tones. From a cold blade to a cool, heatless
night, the voice responds, "You are correct, my mage. That is why I
approach. You should know there are plans in the works and I will have you
be a part of them." 

Tyrolan nods and responds with, "Of course, my Lord."

"Go into Neraka and meet with your "old" master, " snickers the oily voice,
"Meet with him and let our works start." 

"As you wish, my Lord, " stated Tyrolan calmly. With this, the voice left
his mind, sliding out, but remaining potently burned into his conscious. As
Tyrolan made his preparations to gate into Neraka, he pondered the events
soon to turn. 

Author:    Tyrolan        
Date:      Thu Apr 16 18:47:18 2009
Subject     Neraka and an Offer

(Story will be short and sweet as the actual RP went for about an hour. :P)

After waiting for days in Neraka, his time came. The Dark Moon pushed and
pushed on him to go to this meeting. He had been spending his days prior
sitting in the temple to Nuitari and in the main temple to Takhisis.
Watching his back and making sure that he would not be assaulted by some
thug on the street, he deftly moved from block to block. 

From behind, he heard a small clearing of a throat. He turned to notice
Luerk standing behind him in the temple to Takhisis. "Wonderful night, the
Lords of Doom glow brightly."

Nodding and bowing to his first Master, he moved towards Luerk. "I
understand that I was to find you here. It's been a long time."

Chuckling, Luerk nodded, "There have been many things in the works and I
have been busy." After discussing the recent events and how Tyrolan had been
travelling Krynn, they came upon an offer and a secret to be traded.

Luerk stated with all seriousness, "Do you accept?"

Pondering the moment, the need for the knowledge he was offering, Tyrolan
answered, "I would be a fool not to take this offer."

"Then come with me, I must introduce you to what you seek, " he stated with
an evil grin. 

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.'