The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Zamael.

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 worn folio on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Zamael' scribed in bright white ink.


Author:           Zamael
Date    Sat Oct 22 20:31:52 2005
Subject  A stormy night in Silvanesti: Part 1

A storm unlike Silvanost had ever seen swayed the boughs of the magically 
shaped trees and made the Thon-Thalon rage eith furious currents.  
Unbeknownst to Sa'agia Sirfalas and his wife, Alatariel, tonight would be 
the night their king, Lorac Caladon, would attempt to best a dragon orb and, 
in doing so, curse their beloved land.  The orb's seduction of Lorac would 
eventually lead to the twisted dream of Silvanesti, a song lamenting Lorac's 
pride, and then unknown Raistlin Majere's conversion to the Black Robes, but 
that night it led only to the exile of Lorac's people, and the birth of the 
firstborn son of Sa'agia Sirfalas.   
 
The storm raged on as the exiles crossed the border of their homeland.  
Seemingly sensing the loss, the infant in Alateriel's womb kicked furiously, 
as though trying to escape his prenatal prison to return to Silvanost.  
Alateriel doubled over as her water broke and the labor pains began.  There, 
just outside of Silvanesti, was born the first child of the exile.  His 
parents named him Zamael, meaning 'wanderer'.  He would not see his homeland 
for another century.   
 
Sa'agia had amassed wealth crafting some of the finest bows ever to come out 
of Silvanesti; in exile, he spent his fortune freely, using the opportunity 
to seen much of Ansalon, and forgotten a good many of the places he visited, 
but one place, one encounter, he would always remember.  Indeed, he could 
not forget his first encounter with magic if he tried.   
 
(con.)   

Author:           Zamael
Date    Sat Oct 22 20:37:24 2005
Subject  A stormy night in Silvanesti: Part 2

 Strangely enough, it was Zamael's kender companion, Leffoot Lightfinger, 
who introduced him to magic.  As with any kender, Zamael met Leffoot when 
his family visited Palanthas, and was simply never able to be rid of him.  
The two became good friends, and one would never have wanted to get rid of 
the other.  Partners in mischief, they got each in and out of many tight 
spots.  Zamael often did more of the getting out of, and Leffoot more 
getting in, but neither minded.  It was one such tight spot, about six 
months after leaving Palanthas, in which Leffoot returned to their shared 
room in the inn and emptied his pouches, revealing the first magical 
artifact Zamael would ever see.  He knew the kender did not have the item 
the day before, but he also knew better than to ask where it came from.  It 
was a small hand-held mirror resembling a cat's eye.  Leffoot looked it 
over, then tossed it to Zamael, complaining that, as interesting as it was, 
it was horribly smudged, and thus, worthless as a mirror.  At first Zamael 
agreed, until he noticed that the 'smudge' would often change shades.  He 
left the kender to rummage through pouches some more and walked into the 
common room of the inn.  He immediately spotted the only person the mirror 
could belong to--an old man in white robes sitting in a corner bench.   
 
Though Zamael knew that white-robed mages were good, he approached 
nervously, fearing he might be accused of thievery.  As he approached the 
mage, however, the old man said nothing, made no indication he was even 
aware of the young elf's presence.  "Excuse me, sit, but..."  Zamael began.  
"You came to return something of mine that I must have...  Dropped," the 
mage finished with a warm smile.  "Can you read my mind?"  Zamael asked, 
taken aback.  The mage chuckled, "No, I was merely perfectly aware of the 
kender's fingers, light as they may be.  I simply have no more need for such 
an artifact, so you may keep it if you like."  "What does it do?"  "Why, I 
would have thought that was obvious.  It reveals auras--nothing more.  If 
the person in the mirror has evil intentions, the edges blacken; if good 
intentions, the edges turn white.  Intentions somewhere in between can get a 
bit confusing, though."  Smiling, and with a quick 'thank you', Zamael ran 
off to tell Leffoot.   
 
Suddenly, Zamael remembered another question, and turned to the old man to 
ask him, but he had disappeared into thin air, leaving no trace of his 
presence.  The rest of the room didn't seem to even notice, and none of them 
would remember the mage the next morning.  Zamael would always remember that 
conversation, the day he decided to become a mage.   

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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