The Great Library of Palanthas
An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.
Stories of Ansalon from the view of Zanra.
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 thread-bare book bound in cloth on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Zanra' scribed in dull blue ink.
Author: Zanra Date: Mon Jan 18 22:25:07 2010 Subject Pattern of Life Bueren Rose...that's what I've been called before. Strange that I'm called Summer Rose when I resemble nothing like one. But, then again, many things make little sense in the scheme of how patterns of life seem to link things together. My mother has been gone many years. She was with me through the early part of my life, only to succumb to an illness that ravaged her. My father died, old and grey, long before I was even considered an adult. I guess that's to be expected when he was human. He was what could be termed Camaxilas, a sword lord. I can remember his stories of armored knights and fighting before he met my mother and gave up his sword. He dusted his armor each week, his hand gently caressing the embossing in gold. A strange saying he would repeat each time. For some reason I'll remember it, yet won't say it because he told me to keep it inside until the time was right. When he died, we did as he asked and sent a single message by horseman. We expected nothing, but were surprised when one man showed up. This one man wore armor similar to my fathers and said words as he was lowered into the ground. My mother gave the man the armor and weapons when he left. We left for my mother's old homeland shortly after the funeral. I understand why, now that I can look back and remember what was said. It was a primarily human village near a large city of mostly humans. When my father died, the once friendly people started calling my mother a whore and blaming her for causing my father to forget an oath he took. Strange, these so-called friends never said this before, yet blamed my mother for the love my parents shared. Her exile took us to Qualinost. Her family welcomed her back with open arms, but there were some unfriendly gazes that flashed my direction. And these gazes brought new vocalization to words that my father said with love and affection. I came to know that 'half elf' and 'half elven' could be said with contempt and malice. In this city that treated my kind with contempt and hatred, I found solace in two men. One was a man familiar with weapons. He taught me how to use a mace. The other man was a cleric who taught me the healing touch and told me about the Gods and their stars in the sky. He did not treat me with anything more than pride when I made my decision to look to the same God my father did. Instead he merely nodded and continued to teach me how to heal. Both of these men shaped me and set me on my path. Author: Zanra Date: Thu Jan 21 13:19:51 2010 Subject Keeping the journal updated They traveled slowly, she and the knight who clanked, followed by the shaggy horse. They spoke little, but Zanra was used to the quiet. Instead she looked at the trees and grasses that surrounded her, seeking familiar and unfamiliar that she could use in her work. She would stop occasionally, pulling leaves from trees and berries from bushes. She stuffed them in bags, saving them for later. When they got closer to the camp, she begged off to sit against a large tree. With her rest, she pulled a well used leather bound journal from her bags, along with an inkwell and pen. Dipping the pen in the ink, she began to write. ******* 350 Post Cataclysm, 1st day of the Month of Reorxmont I met a knight. He needed a wound healed. He said the wound was recieved in battle. I bade him to show me the area. It was on the middle of the left side, bound by a well soaked bloody bandage. I removed the wrapping, revealing a wicked blade cut. He mentioned that an axe had done the damage. I cleansed it and applied powered Black Barony. I hope that will help pull out the infection and speed the healing. I used a new leaf that I found, crushing it to a gooey substance to help cover the powder. I wrapped it with linen, then helped him redress in armor. I don't know if he will listen to me, but I did advise him to loosen the straps that keep the armor on if the wound begins to hurt. I will remain in the area to look at the wound again in a few days to sure that my ministrations worked. ***** She looked up, looking around. With a sigh, she replaced the journal in her bags and stood, continuing on the path with the knight. Author: Zanra Date: Thu Jan 21 19:17:58 2010 Subject Journal entry 2 ****** 350 Post Cataclysm, 4th day of the Month of Reorxmont I returned to the camp to check the knight's wound. I did not see him, but did see another. I spoke with him. He was resting. I found out his name, but will not put it in writing for fear that this fall into hands that do not follow the manners these knights do. We spoke for a bit. He knew of my father, and it made me happy. I was able to find the first knight and checked the wound again. The infection had gone. I again treated it with Black Barony and wrapped it again. This time when he called for his armor, the other knight took it and would not allow him to wear it. I was glad to see this. On the side note, the first knight was willing to talk, but also a bit cautious. He seems to need an outlet for the frustrations he has, but, without knowing me, he seemed reluctant to talk to me about it. Knowing what has happened, I know that he needs what he has to be able to do what needs to be done. Cryptic, yes, but with reason. I know what needs to be done, but others do not need to know. ***** Author: Zanra Date: Sat Jan 30 03:24:02 2010 Subject First day of training She limped slowly back to the tent in which she slept, her muscles aching from the training session with Lord Railen. She said nothing as she ducked into the tent. Flipping the tent flap closed, she dropped the practice mace to the ground, took two steps, then fell to her knees. Holding her stomach and her arms to her, she groaned as she sunk to her side. "Damnit, why didn't I think that this would NOT hurt as bad as it does," she asked, grasping at the strap to her bag. Not being able to grasp it, she forced herself to her hands and knees, crawling to the bag in the corner of the tent. Rummaging through it, she dug out what she needed and, with tears in her eyes, she started a pot of water to boil. When the water was boiling, she dropped what she thought she would need into the pot, starting to attempt to heal her aches and pains. An hour passed as the water and herbs seeped. With a startled snort, she awoke. She stretched carefully, trying to avoid overusing the muscles that were sore. "For the love of Paladine..." she started, stopping just a fast as her fingertips tingled. She shook them, a bit afraid that she had pinched muscles. Not feeling any lack of feeling, she looked at her hands. "That's strange. I have never felt that before," she whispered, pouring a large cup of the tea from the boiling pot. Author: Zanra Date: Sun Jan 31 13:32:00 2010 Subject Moonlight Zanra listened, carefully straining to see if anyone stirred in the camp. Not hearing anything, she picked up the dreaded weapon from the morning and made her way into the nearby forest. There, with no one watching, she tried to remember what she had learned from Railen. She remembered part of it, but other pieces slipped out of her mind. After an hour or so of working, she dropped the weapon, much to the relief of muscles that seemed to cry out for peace. With an escaped moan, she fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around her chest. "Father," she whispered. "If this is what it takes to be what you were, I'm not sure that I'm ready for it," she whimpered, a bit of sorrow in her voice. Carefully, and slowly, she looked around to make sure that no one had followed her into the clearing. Seeing no one, she slowly laid down on the cool ground and closed her eyes. "I don't know if you can hear me...I've never talked to you before, but if you are there...Paladine give me strength," she whispered. Again, she felt her fingertips tingle. With painful movement, she touched them to her face, feeling a strange warmth come over her. She felt strength flow back into her arms and the exhaustion that she had been plagued with flow out of her. She lay there for a while longer, wondering if this was actually what she thought it was...then sat up and bowed her head. "I still don't know what this is, but if it does come from you...blessings to you Paladine," she whispered as she stood, picked up the weapon and continued to practice. Author: Zanra Date: Wed Feb 17 12:55:59 2010 Subject Skeletal remains Zanra walked quietly through the skeletal remains of the camp on Sancrist. Once there had been Knights of Solamnia as far as the eyes could see. Now, only a handful remained. She knew little of where the others had gone, only that she remained to do what she was told to. Smashed fingers, broken toes, bloody nosesall she became fairly familiar with as she helped out on the docks. She sat under the shade of a tree, healing those who had incidents with crates, oars, and other obstacles that lay in the way of progress. Occasionally her eyes would drift, looking for others that she knew, but none of them were still on the island. Each of them had their own orders and would soon meet somewhere else. Zanra could only hope and pray that each of them made it back with the minimum of injury. When he stepped around to watch, she felt the need to slink farther into the shadows of the trees. It still bothered her that she knew what she did. She hoped that he didn't know of her hesitation, but knew that the word would get around. She laughed a little, thinking that she could possibly be left behind of the peaceful island, but knew that wish was impossible. She had taken the vow and given her oath. She now had to follow orders. He looked her way, his eyes knowing that her thoughts had gotten back to him. With a roll of her eyes, she stood and dusted herself off before walking to him and saluting him. He merely looked at her. "Are you ready?" he asked. She shrugged. "As ready as I can be...considering." He nodded. "And of your other plans?" he asked. She shook her head. "I have not considered them. I had asked before joining the Knighthood, but everyone seemed too busy to answer me. Those plans are now gone," she said, surprised that the sorrow that she once felt was now gone. He merely nodded, turning back to watch the activity on the docks. "Have you practiced your mace today?" he asked without looking at her. "The day is still young," she answered. He seemed to laugh a little, turning his head to her. "Not that young," he replied. She sighed. Saluting him, she turned and walked toward a clearing in what was left of the tents to practice the new forms that he had taught her. Author: Zanra Date: Wed Feb 24 00:37:23 2010 Subject The crossing The dock workers seemed haggard as the finished loading the last of the cargo. They then walked up the gangplank and waited for the last of the passengers to board. Zanra shrugged her shoulders, settling the still unfamiliar armor on her shoulders. The strap of her pouch crossed the breastplate, looking rather funny as it settled at her waist, along with the mace and things on her belt. She glanced around, waiting for him. He came down the beach, heading for the ship. She caught the slight movement of his hand, beckoning her to his side. She nodded, following him up the gangplank and aboard the ship. The captain greeted him warmly, nodding as he gave the orders to head for the mainland near Palanthas. Zanra merely stood at the rail and watched. "You know there is a cabin you can rest in," a dockworker said quietly to her. She nodded, feeling the boat rock under her feet. She tried to smile at the dockworker, feeling her own stomach flip and flop with the motion of the boat. Night fell soon after, Zanra making use of the once empty bucket in the cabin set aside for her use. The dockworker who had spoken to her had already emptied to bucket three times, sighing each time. He came to see her the next morning, seemingly amused at what had befallen her. All she could do was glare at him over the rim of the bucket as she continued to empty the contents of her stomach. The dockworker entered after he left, shaking his head. "The bloody bastard should not harrass you so much," he said, helping Zanra to her bunk. "He should have a bit of a heart at seeing you this sick. What's his life gonna be like if a healer such as yourself doesn't survive the crossing?" She barely shook her head as the man replaced her full bucket with an empty and left the cabin quietly. Night passed into day. The sun had barely risen when Zanra rolled herself out of the bunk and hit the decking on her knees. A mere whisper was all she was able to manage, but with it she called out for relief. And with her whisper, soft blue light seemed to filter in with the coming dawn, bringing with it a healing sensation that seemed to take all sense of the meaning of the term 'seasickness' from her. From her knees, she looked out the circular window and praised the help of Paladine. The dockworker arrived soon after. He knocked and was surprised at the call for entrance. He found Zanra sitting in a chair, attempting to clean herself up. He smiled and bowed his way out of the cabin, returning a bit later with a large basin of water and towels. He nodded as she thanked him, telling her to drop the dirty clothing outside the door. He left, chuckling as she blushed and stammered her thanks. Zanra sat for a moment longer, looking at the clean water. With a sniff, she made a face and went to her pack, pulling out fresh clothing for herself. She quickly cleaned herself, donning the new clothes. Remembering what the dockworker had said, she dropped the soiled clothes in a pile outside the door and quietly made her way, without her armor, to the deck of the boat. She saw him there, but made way to avoid him as she walked toward the front of the ship. With a shy smile at a deckhand, she leaned against the railing and watched the blue water slip by. Author: Zanra Date: Sat Sep 25 11:27:49 2010 Subject Night sky The night air was just a bit crisp, crisp enough that Zanra pulled her cloak tighter around her. She looked up, finding the Platinum Dragon among the stars and felt just a bit better. It seemed like the weight of thousands was on her shoulders and she was unfamiliar with it. She could feel the tension in the air from her vantage point. Some of the troops seemed ok, others were scared, not knowing what was coming. She started when the Grand Master walked by her. He looked toward her and nodded. She merely returned the nod and stood, walking away from the safety of the camp, yet not far enough away to leave herself open to attack. There was a lot of uncertainty, things that she wasn't ready for. Her past flooded back to her, causing her to remember things that she had hoped to keep buried. All would come out in the future, she was afraid, but knew it would. Lord Railen acknowledged her as he walked by, making the rounds of the camp. She nodded, turning and heading a different direction. Tonight was not a time for conversation. Tonight, she had to make peace with the demons of her nightmares. And that was for no one but her to figure out. Author: Zanra Date: Wed Sep 29 01:59:04 2010 Subject Meeting things along the way It all seemed sureal as she rode along with the troops following the GrandMaster. The trees even seemed quieter than normal to her. Usually she could read and see things as she traveled, this time there seemed to be nothing that would reveal anything to her. Still, she rode, following orders given to her by the leaders of the Knighthood. Her orders were clear; she was a healer and that was her job. Something strange caught her attention, as it did the others in the group. Just a mere turn of her head and she found herself laying on the ground with her head aching. The fighting knights, as she called them, gathered with their friends, and together, they attacked. In the end, the friends and allies stood together with the knights and, with what she could do to help, the creature fell to the ground. She started to walk away to round up the horses that got scattered in the process, but stopped short, almost running into the GrandMaster. He had watched her efforts and her success on the field of battle and, then and there, ordered her to kneel. He took the still bloody sword, and with her oath, she stood a shocked look on her face. The GrandMaster merely smiled and walked away to gather his thoughts. Author: Zanra Date: Fri Oct 1 13:42:21 2010 Subject Grief for the past Even where she stood, the news of the happenings in her homeland hit her hard. People she knew were gone or captured, and she could do little but mourn them where she was. She didn't really know exactly what had occurred, only that the people around the forest had been overran and beaten. One part of her just wanted to open a portal and step through to see if she could find any survivors and take them to safety, but another part knew her duty to her oath. It was now that the reality of what her father had gone through seemed to dawn on her. He too did what he knew was right, forsaking everything else. And as his daughter, she too had to make the difficult decision to remain where she was. It wasn't only the elves that she had grown up with and had played with as a child that mattered, the safety of others who looked up to those like her was at stake. The walls were really the only things that seemed to know her pain and her sorrow. She would not show it to anyone else, that was not her way. Instead, she barred herself in a lonely room and grieved, pouring out her emotions. She finished late into the afternoon. Clearing her face of emotion and locking her pain and grief inside her, she exited the lonely room and made her way to recieve orders from the leaders. Author: Zanra Date: Sun Oct 24 15:02:14 2010 Subject Pushing forward The land was different than how she remembered it. The trees were no longer happy. Instead they drooped and almost seemed angry and sad in their appearance. All together, Zanra was angry and saddened at what had happened to her childhood homeland. The atmosphere, too, seemed familiar, but the same from her youth. With a glance over her shoulder at the GrandMaster, she dismounted and walked into the forest. She found what she searched for. With careful hands, she lifted the old box from it's resting place and emptied the contents into an unused pouch. With a silent prayer to Paladine, she lit the old wooden box on fire and watched it burn. Once it was completely destroyed, she returned to the rest of the Solamnics and mounted her horse. With another glance at the GrandMaster, she followed them back to the camp. That night seemed cold and eerie. The battle ravaged land was quiet. The darkness had dwarfed even the hottest bonfire. Yet, from the forest came a sound that only Zanra knew. She rose from her fitfull sleep, donned her clothing and a cloak and followed the noise. A sheltered fire burned inside a well concealed cave. She was met at the entrance by Qualinosti elves, their weapons pointed directly at her. Reluctantly, they lowered their weapons when she gave the passcode that made her known to them. Their leader sat near the fire, his arm broken and bloody. Near him, others fared little better. Zanra approached them with caution. "Quenta solari nen heth y mori Firthing D'l'athil. Droviala Zanra d'Zaradene," she said to him. He glanced at her and glared. "Is your true heritage so degraded by your human blood that you forgot your true name and who you are?" he asked, attempting to rise. She beat him to it, kneeling next to him. "I've forgotten nothing Firth. I know exactly who I am," she retorted, lifting his injured arm and starting to unwrap the bandages. He merely looked at her with a hooded glance. "Prove it, Zanralansana," he said, the challenge ringing in his voice. She dropped the bloody bandages to the ground and drew on what she knew as a healer, healing the break and closing the open wounds. He merely watched her, his gaze still challenging her. With Firth's gaze still on her, she moved around and healed the others who were hurt by the battles. When she'd finished she stood up, heading for the cave entrance. Firth stood in front of her, his battered sword brandished. "Firth, move aside," she said, stepping to one side to pass. Instead, Firth moved in front of her. "Does the blood of the Caladon line run so cowardly that you hide behind armor bound oafs who use you? Or do you still possess what you once did? " he said, dropping the sword in challenge. She merely stepped back. "Firth, they need you to lead them. I am in no position to do that anymore," Zanra said. "I gave my oath." Firth laughed. "Gave your oath to those who took you from us to begin with. You should have stayed here instead of turning Valth like your mother," he said. Zanra dropped her cloak behind her before she even realized she did it. She reached for a weapon, realizing that she had not brought one. Firth laughed. "Do you rely on steel like them?" he taunted, grabbing her arm and flipping her over his shoulder. Zanra hit the ground, rolling to her feet. She stood, watching him. He circled her, taunting her with the names she was called as a child. When he insulted her mother a second time, she stepped toward him, lunging at him, only to land on her back again. She rolled, finding a crude dagger at her throat. "You've gone soft Zanralansana. Did the armor wearers not test your skills, or did they merely hand you gear and say fight like they did to traitors like your mother?" he asked, pushing on the knife. With a growl, Zanra grabbed the hand with the knife and flipped him. She rolled, coming to her feet. "You know nothing Firth," she said, moving carefully. They fought, each of them seeming to take advantage, then the other turning the fight around. A rustle brought the fight to a halt as a sentry came rushing in, blood streaming from a large cut on his shoulder. Zanra healed him as he delivered the message of a fight nearby. Firth tossed Zanra a knife. "Prove your skills or be branded traitor like your mother," he said as he left. She needed no other encouragement. The fight was mostly one sided, the newly healed elves outnumbering the intruders. Zanra and Firth finished off the last few, then stood and looked at each other. "You haven't forgotten what you once knew," Firth said, his voice now normal and calm. Zanra handed him back the knife she was given. "I haven't forgotten, and I won't ever forget who I once was. You made this my home, even when my mother did what she did to make sure that we could get weapons to the others. On the outside, she was HIS whore. Never on the inside, " she said, dropping her head. Firth walked to her. "I know. I was just seeing if you were still hot tempered," he said, laughing. The cave was much more friendly when she entered it this time. The fighters included her in the jokes, making her laugh. Firth sat for a while, watching. Finally he stood up, raising one hand. "At one time, you stood with us and led part of us against THEM. Something happened and somehow one of THEM got ahold of you and you left us. I saw when you took your box out of it's hiding place, burning the box, but not the contents. That says something for you. That box could have gotten lots of us in trouble. I trust that you will not use the contents of the box against us," he said, looking directly at her. Zanra nodded. "The contents are safe and will be used only by me. THEY have no need for what was in there, nor will the items fall into the hands of THEM," she said, nodding. Firth smiled. "Although you are one of the armor wearers, I name Zanralansana, daughter of Aileansana Ravensister, one of us." The elves cheered, showing their approval. Zanra merely nodded. "The secrets of us are safe. I must return before I'm missed. Quenta solari nen heth y mori my brothers and sisters," she said, leaving the cave. The sun was just beginning to rise as she slipped back into her tent. Mere moments later the call from the sentries was made to rise and make ready for travel. Zanra merely smiled and put her armor on. As the Solamnics left the forest, Zanra heard the sound from the night before and smiled, following along. Author: Zanra Date: Wed Nov 3 20:13:06 2010 Subject Re-awakening The travelers moved only as fast as the horses pulling the wagons with supplies. Zanra sat on the horse that she had been given at the head of the lines, just behind the GrandMaster and the Lord of the Crown. She listened to everything around her, her elven ears straining to hear what could be around her. Nothing sounded amiss. In fact, everything sounded like it should. She noticed that the fields seemed greener than normal as they traveled. With a shake of her head, she wondered why plans had changed, but then again, she had been privy to little of the planning as she had just recently stepped into her current assignment. The young half-elf heard something strange and turned her head to look. As soon as she did, her vision was filled with blood. She slipped off her mount and stood her ground, for mere moments. She was thrown off her feet by a blast from a nearby enemy. She landed hard, dropping her shield in the process. She managed to rise to her feet, dazed and fighting as well as she could. Zanra looked around her as she fought, trying to find which direction to go next. Yet every direction seemed awash with the enemy. Her training and practice with the skills that defined her as a cleric were not answering her prayers and her faith in Paladine was seemingly non-existant. She couldn't seem to actually heal anyone or anything around her. It seemed to her tha Paladine had forsaken her in this time and place. A voice in her head belayed her thoughts. "I have not forsaken you, young one," the male voice said quietly. She darted one way, then the next in her attempts to fight, but the numbers were overwhelming. She dropped to one knee, only to roll out of the way of an incoming attack. Yet it wasn't enough. She saw her end before her eyes, and dropped her mace at her side to recieve the killing blow... Brilliant light enveloped her. The blow seemed to pass through her and she blacked out for moments in time. The light disappeared, and she was on the sand where her journey all began, water lapping nearby. She tried to stand, but her legs buckled, refusing to hold her weight. She managed to make her way to her knees and turned her head from side to side. Instead of the bloody battlefield, she saw others who had stood on the battlefield beside her, all of them struggling to rise, and a good many more struggling to make sense of it all. The rush of feet from nearby, brought her head back toward them. Squires in Solamnic clothes and the healers who were their allies came toward them, anxious of all the commotion. Inside her head, the voice seemed saddened. "That was unexpected and unwarranted, youngling. I gave you a gift. I won't be around to help all the time. Use it a bit more wisely this time," it said before Zanra's eyes rolled back in her head and she fell to the ground with a thud. The sensation of flying was the next thing she felt. Pure and total weightlessness, followed by an excrutiating pain in her shoulder and neck. She managed to force one eye open, glancing around her. She was being carried on a stretcher by squires who had been left for defenses. She tried to sit up, but a light hand on her shoulder had her dropping back to the cloth beneath her, exclaiming in pain. "Rest Lady Knight. You need to be seen by the healers," a voice said from beside her. Zanra shook her head, again attempting to sit up. This time she managed it, hissing in pain and frustration. Around her, similar scenes were being replayed. A nearby healer knelt beside her. Zanra heard the prayers to Mishakal as a feeling of content and the healer's prayers were answered. Zanra felt her body lay back down. She closed her eyes, bringing darkness to her mind. Author: Zanra Date: Sun Nov 7 04:54:46 2010 Subject Healing the wounded Stiffness and a throbbing ache was the first thing that Zanra noticed as she slowly wakened from her healing sleep. She opened her eyes. The lights around her were dim. She raised a hand and lifted it to her neck. She felt the light bandage there. With a careful probe, she felt under the bandage, assessing her injury. The cut ran from just under her ear to under the light tunic she wore. She turned her head, looking around at the other injured people in the beds, all of them bandaged and being cared for. Another glance showed her that all around her clerics and squires moved meticulously, their efforts to make the injured better, apparent in their actions. A nearby cleric noticed her movements and quickly made her way to the bedside. Zanra lowered her hand to the bed, letting the woman look her over. After a cursory check, the woman nodded. "How do you feel today, Lady?" she asks, her fingertips lightly probing the bandage on her neck. Zanra hissed, but remained still. The woman shook her head. "There's nothing we can do for the scar that wound is going to leave." Zanra nodded. "It can't be helped," she said. With some effort, she managed to sit up. Again she looked at the cleric. "I'll heal." She sat back as the cleric checked over her. When the cleric finished with her ministration. "You can move around the camp, but please, don't cause more injury to yourself," the cleric said, a stern look on her face. Zanra smiled shyly and nodded. "Tell me, have all the survivors been healed?" Zanra asked, glancing around again. The cleric sighed and shook her head. "We have healed everyone who has allowed us. The only one who has refused anything we can do has been Lord Lanfer. To this day, he sits outside or in a small room nearby and refuses to let us heal his wounds," the cleric said. Zanra shook her head, sighing. "I'll talk to him. He needs to be seen," she said quietly. The cleric nodded, standing and returning to healing. Zanra rose to her feet, taking a few moments to gather her balance. With an unsteady center of balance, she made her way to an area where warm water steamed in pools. With unsteady hands, she slowly slipped into the water, biting back the cry of pain as the steaming water hit the sore muscles and open wounds. Once she got used to the water, she sat back in the highback tub and closed her eyes, resting and letting the water help with the sore, stiff muscles. She rose from the water before it got cold. A young squire brought her a cotton clerical robe. With a smile, she donned it, as well as simple footwear before she set out into the daylight. Seeing the building that the cleric had mentioned, she carefully made her way to it. Author: Zanra Date: Wed Nov 17 15:37:15 2010 Subject Seeker The tent city was held by a strange eerie silence as the sun peeked over the horizon. Very few people moved in the early rays of the morning. Zanra sat quietly on a tall tree branch, her back braced against the bark of the large tree. She merely sat and watched as the sentries changed and new ones took their places. One glance back toward the main healing area showed her that the doors to the buildings were still closed and, perhaps, those who needed sleep still grasped the healing that it could do. Her own wounds were all but healed, still aching if she overused the muscles that had been pulled and injured. She carefully climbed down from the branch, landing back on the ground. With a sigh, she walked quietly to her tent and entered it. Allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light within, she picked up an empty backpack and started stuffing things that she should need into it. When she finished, she pulled a piece of parchment from nearby and quickly penned a note. Her armor tucked under cloth, she quietly made her way to the GrandMaster's quarters. With slow, deliberate movements, she slid the note under the door and made her way out of the tent city and into the forests nearby.
The Storytellers of Ansalon, The DragonLance MUD
Astinus points to the massive wall of books behind him and bids you to make a selection.
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