An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Alenth.

A little gully dwarf runs by and says 'Wordwrap is at 65. You change? 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 an elegant book bound in elf-skin on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Alenth' scribed in grey ink.

Author:    Alenth         
Date:      Sat Jul 19
05:06:50 2008
Subject     Alenth

Dusk fell slowly, the
daylight dragging its fingers reluctantly accross
the dead
landscape as winter crept closer. 

Alenth sighed as he watched
the light hang on the tips of the apple trees
outside the modest
ergothian house that had been in his family for
generations. From
inside the house, a servant called:

"Master Alenth? It's
time." Alenth turned slowly, his youthful face carved
from
stone. "Indeed" He walked inside, pushing aside the rough
curtain.

Inside, lying prone on the bed, her skin streatched and
thin, lay an old
woman. Wasted away, at first glance she looked
dead, but as he watched
closely, Alenth saw that her chest still
slowly rose and fell, as her body
struggled to live. It wouldn't
be much longer.

Alenth knelt beside the bed, grasphing one of
the claw-like hands in his
own.

"Mother, I'm here." 

The
woman turned slightly, looking at him with unseeing eyes.


"Jarod? Is that you?" Alenth winced. His father had been
dead for several
years now. If she believed him alive, the end
must be near. "No mother, it's
me, Alenth. Your son." Her
eyes seemed to twitch a bit at his voice.

"Oh Jared, I'm so
sorry. I wouldn't have, but he was so handsome...the
knight from
Solamnia....uth Kein, his name was. I was so lonely while
you
were away....I'm sorry Jarod...At least now, we have our
son...Alenth is a
fine boy, and there's no reason for any of the
neighbors to know...."

Alenth froze, hearing his mother's
impossible words. With a final shudder,
her body lay still. 

He
rose and left without a word, saddled his horse, put on his
sword, and
headed East, towards Solamnia. Somewhere, his father's
blood called to him. 

Author:    Alenth        

Date:      Thu Aug  7 03:54:38 2008
Subject     Alenth: 
The quest (pt 1)

Alenth sneezed as the dust from the
faded manuscript floated past his
face. Another barely readable
lineage chart, dating back almost to the
cateclysm. He rubbed his
eyes with a dusty knuckle and glanced at the candle
set on the
side of his desk, safely away from the documents. He had
already
been looking for over two hours after he should have been
asleep on the
uncomfortable cot allocated to squires. The room at
least had a desk now,
one of the priviliages of being a Clerist
in training, but not much else in
the way of comforts.

He sighed
as he looked at the candle again, mentally calculating how long
he
would have to sleep. One more hour shouldn't be too much of a
problem. The
halls of the clerists were empty now, and the
knighthood seemed sometimes to
be shrinking. Alenth was alone in
these empty corridors more often than not,
a matter of some
concern, what with the rumors of armies to the East. 

He turned
back to the faded manuscript and began to trace the
liniage
inscribed there, searching for the name of his father.


The line ran through various names, but there was no mention of
uth Kein
anywhere. It was as if the name had never existed.
Perhaps he had heard his
mother wrong. He moved the document over
and started on the next stack, not
noticing as the candle burned
lower and lower. 

Author:    Alenth        

Date:      Tue Jan 25 05:30:31 2011
Subject     The
Return

An evening gust blew in through the windows of
Alenth's study. Situated
by the sea, his estates overlooked the
ocean and the sea air held a chill.
Alenth, no longer a young
man, pulled his fur-lined cloak around his
shoulders as he looked
out the window. Below him, his workers were bringing
in the day's
catch of fish in their reed boats. Alenth watched them work,
an
untouched mug of mulled wine on the desk behind him. He turned
as the door
opened behind him, watching the slim man who
entered.

"My Lord, I have news. Your information was correct.
The Knighthood has
fallen into disorder, and there is stirring in
Sanction. Word is that they
have crowned a new emperor. No one is
sure who it is but there is talk of a
magic-user."

Alenth
sighed as he sat down at his desk, sliding the mug of wine to
the
side, and gesturing for the man to go on.

"My Lord, there
is no word on who it is, but my sources indicate that that
he was
once a Red Robe."

Alenth looked up at that.

"A red robe now
leads the Armies in the north? That seems...unlikely. Are
you
sure?"

The man looked Alenth in the eye.

"I am, my
Lord."

Alenth nodded. 

"Very well, Samuel. Gather my
guards, and ready my armor. Saddle Daven. He's
old..." He
smiled ruefully, "But we are, none of us, as young as we used
to
be. Hurry now, Samuel. The Knighthood needs us."

Samuel
hurried from the room, and Alenth strode quickly to the
fireplace,
where a large iron flail hung above the mantel. He
lifted it down, and read
the inscription hammered into the
well-worn handle. It read only
"Redemption" and it fit
perfectly into Alenth's gnarled and knotted hands.
He lifted the
flail and looked again out the window, knowing in his heart
that
while this had been a place to live, it had never been his home.
He
strode from the room without a backwards glance, flail
clenched in his hand.

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