The Great Library of Palanthas
An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.
Stories of Ansalon from the view of Anze.
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 large tome gilt in gold on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Anze' scribed in dark green ink.
Author: Anze Date: Fri Nov 13 20:53:24 2015 Subject Sithelnost Falls.
Silvanesti is burning. The smoke is already beginning to fill the skyline, and in the distance the flames can be made out, they are finally trying to do what even the Cataclysm could not. "Mom, I dont care that the house has been in our family since before the Cataclysm, and neither do the marauders." He pleads even as he drags her out of the building, into the village streets where a handful of Protectors are screaming at the villagers to move as the panicked denizens of Sithelnost fled to the arranged horses and carts. "We have to move, everyone has to go south." "But this is our home, this is where you were born, your Starlight Ceremony was so close.." "It doesnt matter now, mom, we have to go." He was trying his best not to panic, but it was hard when the smoke was visible to the north. The Protectors were out in force in a way he had never seen before, and they didnt seem any calmer than he did. Much of the village was already on the road, leaving quickly, he was one of the few stragglers. Tradition was important, but tradition was going to get his family killed if he didn't force his mother to move. She fought back, a little, but enough sense remained that when she looked back towards their family home, she accepted their new fate. The flames could be seen in the distance. The screams and shouts of the marauders and their terrible forces could be heard. It was as if the end times had come for the Silvanesti. They, who had weathered the Cataclysm, were now being attacked by the lesser races, humans and goblins? This could not be, this was only temporary, it had to be.. Finally, she was on the horse, and he mounted his own. The Protectors either with them or right behind them. And, in that inglorious way, is how the marauders took Sithelnost. A town older than whole nations, which survived the Cataclysm itself. Lost in a day to fire and steel and the chants of goblins.
The next town wasnt prepared to handle the influx of a thousand new residents. Sithelnost had been the largest population center for miles, and now everyone who had lived their was arriving in a town not even a fourth of its size. The Protectors had made some arrangement for supplies, but clearly this whole invasion had taken them off guard. Many of the refugees turned and continued moving south, most would attempt to make it to Silvanost he imagined. "I want to go home." she muttered, for the dozenth time today. "We cant go home, mom, if anything we should keep going, to Silvanost, where it's safe." "The Protectors will stop them, they defended our borders from Ogres and all sorts of monsters for millennia, they will stop them." He wanted to agree, but it seemed different this time. Or even if they did succeed, it was going to be at a terrible cost. The Protectors seemed to know this as well, they didnt seem their normal confidant selves, instead they seemed like the rest of them. Scared. The Silvanesti had moved quickly, but the marauders still werent far away. A day, maybe two. Already the people of this village were gathering their things to move on as well, perhaps the whole of north Silvanesti was making their journey south as they spoke. Towards the safety of Silvanost. "Im sure they will mom, but for now we have to keep moving, the Protectors need to make sure we are all safe, thats their job." That lie seemed to suffice, in truth though, he was just scared. He hadnt even considered death before, it seemed impossibly far away before now. He wasnt even sixty, there were still hundreds of years to go, he wasnt an adventurer or a warrior, just a simple citizen. How could this be happening, it didnt make any sense, Silvanesti was -safe- it was the only safe place on Krynn, how could this be happening? It was happening though, the smoke on the horizon proved it, Silvanesti was burning. He couldn't get that thought out of his head as he tried to sleep that night, flames licking in the distance.
They had been moving since dawn, the marauders were moving quicker than anyone expected. There had been rumors. Rumors of dragons. They had to be unfounded, right? Dragons had been gone for, for longer than his parents parents lives, a time beyond comprehension really. No way could there be dragons, those were stories, Just like ELi was a story, dragons didnt exist, and if they used to they were gone now. Still. There is a certain terror, when running, with your ancestral homeland burning behind you, that made him think maybe dragons were real. The idea of death had stuck with him in his dreams last night. Terror wasnt an emotion he, or probably most any Silvanesti was really used to. They lived here, in their forests, and the -others- lived out there. Away from them. "Im tired" she muttered on the horse next to him "I know mom, but its only a couple more hours until the next town, and the Protectors said its safe there, that we won't have to run anymore" "I just want to go home, where is your father?" Hes dead mom. Is what he wanted to say, but there was only so much he could get away with even if she was losing her memory. "Hes probably just out running some errands" he mutters, looking over his shoulder once more. The Protectors looked tired, and the sky in the horizon was black with soot and smoke. He didnt know you could be that frightened. He didnt want to die. It was hours of tense riding. They finally did make it, and what the Protectors said did seem to be true. This town seemed a fortress. Teeming with Protectors, its walls a mangled fortification of magically grown trees. He was sure that the enemy would falter here. Even now he heard the whispered tales of scouts cutting into the enemy's ranks with arrows and traps. The Silvanesti had existed since the beginning of time, some upstart band of humans wouldnt possibly be able to end their civilization. For a moment, as they took rest for the night so they would be ready for tomorrow, the fear dissipated.
Screams, he couldnt believe the screams. No one knew how, but they were there, the village was supposed to be a hard point, but the numbers. ELi bless them, the Protectors were falling and the village was burning. The people were in a panic, everyone was fleeing as fast as they could. The sky was filled with arrows on both sides, flashes of fire in the sky as burning arrows hit the buildings. Hundreds of villagers streamed into the forest, hundreds of Protectors fought at the village walls. Thousands and thousands of goblins and humans poured over them like a tsunami. Mom. He had her by the shoulder, they were running. Please, ELi dont let me die. They were running, fire, arrows, screams and carnage all around them. Was she screaming? He couldnt bear to look, to see if the woman who gave him life was in fact screaming and crying for her life. He saw Theros take an arrow in the back. Theros had been a scholar in the Sithelnost library for his entire life. Now he was gone. Nothing more than a lifeless body stained in blood that we ran past. Fear erupted inside him. He didnt want to die, everything in his body was willing him not to die. A flaming arrow impacted the tree next to them, its shaft exploding into fiery pieces. The whole forest was filled with the impacts of warped arrows. Where were they even running? He wondered, they had just run for it, were they even going south? Did it even matter? A new volley. Pain shot through his body, something ripped into his shoulder. He fell to the ground in pain. It was hard to think straight, his vision was filled with the leaves and brush of the Silvanesti ground. He shifted, trying to crawl. Mom, mom where are you? he cried into the woods.. Silence. He looked around in panic. There she was, on the ground, mouth agape. Littered with goblin arrows, her clothing stained with blood. He couldnt hold back the tears even as he stumbled forward. Please, just let me live through this night, gods, all he wanted was to live through this. His vision was blurring, he had to keep moving, away, away from the fire and the screams and the terror. Fear kept him moving onward, even as he bled to death slowly. Please gods, just let me live.
He stumbled his way through the woods. It was all a noisy blur. Screams. Shouts. The sounds of steel and arrows. Smoke and fire. It was all around him, and overwhelming him. All conscious thoughts stopped, he was just on instinct, moving as best he could away from -them- from the violence. From death. Gods the thought popped into his head Just dont let me die, please. He wasnt even sure if he was conscious for the bulk of it. He knew he was moving, putting one foot in front of the other, but he didnt know how long he had been at it. His whole body ached, blood still flowed from the wound in his shoulder. Consciousness was hard. Running was hard. He had to keep moving, he had to get away from them, the monsters, the violence, anywhere that he could be safe. Eventually he stumbled too much, and hit the ground. Hard. Gods, no, gods.. he said to no one. Please just help me, I dont want to be here He was still crawling, trying to move, but it was hard, so hard, so much pain. He stopped for a moment, to catch his breath, and glanced up. It was quiet. Silent really. The cries, the screams and the sound of battle, they were all gone. Had he really gone that far? How, how had he escaped? He couldnt make himself look backwards, the thought terrified him, that there might be someone there, coming to finish him off, no he had to continue forward. He kept crawling, the woods were becoming darker, more wild, almost misshapen. The clean forests of Silvanesti seemed warped somehow. Darker. It didnt matter, it was safer here, the further away from them was the further away he was from death. Thats all that mattered, keep moving, keep moving forward. It seemed like hours, in reality it was only minutes, but he couldnt go any further, he had to stop, his arms wouldnt work anymore. Face in the dirt, gasping for air, everything about his body aching, vision blurring. He just keeps whispering to himself, to the forest and the gods themselves. Please just let me live, over and over. Whispering it as the soft padding of elven feet approached him slowly.
He awoke in fits and starts, each time he saw the face. Rakishly handsome, an elf, his eyes darker than the night sky. You are dying, boy. He stirred again, darkness, the other one is so dark... Please, I dont want to die, I dont want to die.. Vision blurs, fading out, where was he? It seemed as if this was someone's home, deep in these woods. Why was he here? Where were the marauders? You are dying, Anze. His name, it almost hurt to hear it. Do you have any last words? He reaches upwards, trying to grab the man. His hands find nothing, just air, was there anything even there? I dont want to die, please, help me There was silence. Terrible silence. He could feel it slipping away, the nothingness surrounding him. Anything. He would give anything to stop this. I cannot save you, Anze. His name again, why did it sound so painful coming from that mouth? There is one who can, the only one that can save any of us. He knew the answer somehow. Somehow. There was a name, rippling through his mind on the very edges, he could almost hear it, it was there and not at the same time. Please, im so scared, I... I need help... his voice was fading. The world was fading. He was losing hope, there was just... something, something on the edge of his mind, he went to grab it. His hands grab nothing. Yes, Anze, he sees you. He can help you, Anze, dont you see? He is the answer, it is through him we have hope, that we have true life. Everlasting life. Please, I he sees it for a moment, a flash, just barely visible. The elf suddenly in his vision, staring down at him, his face gaunt, almost as if, a skull was watching him. Those eyes, so dark in the mans head. The name rung out in his head, his vision was clear, clearer than it had ever been. Then it was gone. The clarity was gone. In rushed once more, pain, hunger, fear. Mortality. But also hope. There was only one thing that gave hope, only one thing that could help him, or anyone. He awoke. The forest floor, still face down in the dirt. The elf, the house, the rotted woods, all gone. Was it a dream? No, it couldnt have been, because he still felt it, deep in his heart, that spark, that tiny black glimmer of hope. His body throbbed, pain, the wound in his shoulder still ached. He slept.
It was real. Somehow, he knew that, to the very core of his being, that it was real. He had dreams before, nightmares, but it had never been like this. This dream wasnt fading away, the details werent being obfuscated by the sunlight like most nightmares. This, he knew, was real. Waking up was unexpected, it was quiet, he couldnt hear the screams anymore, the fires were gone, the soldiers were gone, how long had he been asleep? He was alive though, and in his whole short life, this may be the first time he realized it. Others were dead, dozens, maybe hundreds, but he was alive. Life. It had a different meaning somehow, that he knew. He stood. That was the first moment he realized it really was different, the pain was gone. The injury in his shoulder was healed, just a hole in his shirt to show something had once pierced it. It was odd, suddenly having the answers, calming, and at the same time filling him with a drive unlike any other. The conflict, war, the villages and armies, it all seemed so pointless now. There was only one thing he needed to do, the world needed to know. He began walking, picking a direction that seemed like it would take him back to where he came from. Everything seemed so much easier now, the fear was gone, all the dangers and troubles of a mortal's life dissipated in the wind. Arriving back at the town was a welcoming sight. It was ruined, buildings battered and burned, the ground littered with arrows and bodies. The marauders were already gone, chasing the Silvanesti further south. It didnt matter. He still had a mortal body, there were needs to be taken care of, as unfortunate as they were. Food. Water. Clothing. Picking through the looted remains of houses and bodies, he finally managed to scrounge himself together enough to survive on. Replacing his tattered and bloody clothing with with new ones. Simple clothing, robes, things made for a traveler, thats what he was now, a traveler with a message, the most important message. The village though, was a pleasing sight, bringing a grim smile to his face. He looked across the smoldering remains before leaving, thanking the only god that mattered, and then moving on.
Time didnt seem to mean much anymore. Neither did anything else other than the cause, really. Sure, he had needs, sleep and food, but, those were distractions to the cause. To hope. The forests of Silvanesti once seemed so large and welcoming, now they were just trees. The people who had spent so much time revereing and molding them were idiots who had wasted their time. The other races had something right, just chop them down and built a house, "the living wood" was an illusion, all things must die eventually. It took some amount of time to leave Silvanesti, how much he didnt know, or care, it wasnt important. His old self would have been terrified to leave the forest, but now? He had the hope. So he ventured forward, looking for something he could only wordlessly feel in the back of his mind. It wasnt much of a village. Barely a gathering of huts surrounded by rough farmland. It was an odd meeting, terrifying for them, and mostly useless for him. These people were simple. Uninterested in the hope he had to offer. They knew so little, and even though they were afraid, and he had the answers, they refused to hear. They were unimportant. He moved on. Westward. It all seemed a blur, forests faded to plains faded to desert. It didnt matter, the elements might matter to some people, but they didnt matter to him, not anymore. He had the hope. Somehow he always managed to survive, always managed to have water and food. It wasnt conscious, it was a silly mortal necessity, and through faith it was fulfilled. Eventually he made it through the desert, to the mountains. Dwarves. He had never expected to actually meet one before, and unsurprising they were consumed with their petty mortal concerns. Fear and mistrust, they didnt know, they didnt want to hear the truth, they were too focused on old grudges, about stories their parents parents had told them. Ignorance, their ignorance was astounding, and such a waste of time. Didnt they realize? This was holding them back, they needed to realize that there was still hope that life didnt have to be consumed by their petty nonsense? He was shunned. The message was shunned. They would meet their fate, as everyone must, but they would do so without hope. It didnt matter, he moved on, northwards now, to the humans. Humans were always afraid, they didnt know any better, they would hear the message, they would know of the truth he spoke of.
These were the people he had been looking for. They too were simple, but they understood their lot in life. Elves would never accept their true fate, the dwarves still clung to their traditions, but humans? Humans understood. They, who had borne the brunt of the Cataclysm. They who understood disease. Understood fear. Understood Death. Villagers on the newsea coast, if any of them had seen an elf it had most likely been from a distance. They too were scared, why would an elf come so far east, to such a place? He had come for them, in His name, didn't they understand? The village tore itself apart when he showed the truth for the first time. Hope scared these people, they didnt want to accept what they already knew. The man begged, just as he had, he begged for life, to be saved. He was granted the bargain, the truth flowed through him and he rose, the sickness gone, his health restored. These poor villagers hadnt known the truth, it had been gone for so long, and its return shattered their lives. Half the villagers wanted to know about the hope that was offered, the other half wanted him burned alive. It didnt matter, his work here was done. They knew now, it was up to them to accept or deny it, in the end He would have them, one way or another. And so he continued on. His truth will be known.
This land was poisoned. There was a falsehood here. The man he met on the roadway had not only denied the truth, but claimed a false one in its stead. Liars. These creatures would not be allowed, and so this one was sent to Him, his fate sealed by his own admission of falsehood. It was a simple touch, once the falsehood had been understood, His power had flowed through him, and the man lied there, gone. In a different life he would have been disgusted, ashamed, terrified at what he had become. But he had the truth, and blasphemers to the truth must be removed. There was no doubt anymore, nothing to be disgusted by. Even the cults name had been offensive, Seekers, what is their to seek, when His knowledge surrounds us, is with us every day? No, this land was poisoned to the truth. Didnt they understand? He only wanted to show them the love and hope for them, that there was another way. They would not listen. Fools. So he continued. Abanasinia this land was called, wild, overgrown with trees and creatures. It teemed with disgusting life. Life that didnt know hope didnt know love. It was a new vision, that dusk when he gave thanks to Him. He hadnt been spoken too this directly since he was first shown the truth, and there it was again, the words flowing over him. Anze the voice called to him once more, the name still hurt, like needles down his back, flashes of the handsome man once more, eyes pools of darkness. You must go. He knew, east again, back towards his homeland. This had been a test, he had needed to grow, learn more of the truth, and now he had. He was ready. They must see the hope I have for them. The truth. The love I have to give them. Of course. To the east, the Many Headed Dragon was rising again, but her servants didnt know, they didnt understand. They needed to know Him. Even -Her- servants deserved salvation. This land was poisoned, false gods and old gods prevented them from knowing the truth. They werent yet ready. But in the east, they would accept the love He had for them. He woke from the vision. Once again he didnt know how much time had gone by, and once again it didnt matter. There, to the north, Crossing. In this place they would have a ship, it would take him there. They would know. They would know hope.
The man was dying. This much was obvious. He waited patiently over him as the man drifted in and out of sleep. The fever was ravaging the man, sweat drenched through every piece of clothing and the sheets of his simple mat. He can save you friend, you just have to accept. The man's eyes opened, trying to focus on him. Wha? the man questioned, he was obviously confused. Tired. Dying. He smiled down at the man. He can save you friend, I am here to offer you His hope. he reached forward, wet cloth cleaning the mans forehead. All you need to do is accept it. I dont.. I dont understand the man trembled, still weary and confused. But you do understand, friend, we all understand. He brings you his hope, salvation from this, He wants to help you, but you have to accept his help first. Who.. who is He? Who are you talking about? You know who He is, friend. We all know. We were all born with him watching us, and it is Him who guards our souls when we pass. He offers salvation to those who desire life, love and hope to those who are willing to accept. He loves us all, friend, each and every last mortal. You just need to accept the love. The man reaches up. Weak hands trying to grab onto his cloak. Please.. Please help me, it hurts so bad I cannot help you, friend, only He can. You must speak to him. I.. I dont know how.. I dont.. I dont understand. You do know, friend, we all know how but most choose to ignore Him. But you are at the doors now, you see what lies before you. The emptiness, the despair, only He can save you from oblivion. Only His love can save any of us. Accept it, friend, and his hope will be yours. I.. the man swallows, there is a palpable fear in his voice. Im so afraid.. He only smiles in return. The man knows what he must do, now it is up to him to accept it or not. I dont want to die, please.. gods.. please.. the man begs. Still he waits. The man must give himself fully, otherwise this will not work. Only by giving yourself up completely can one be helped. I.. I want to be saved, I want to live There it is. He smiles, once again brushing the man's forehead. He hears you, friend. He lays his hands on the man's chest now, looking upwards Father please bless this man with your love, he wishes to be saved His hands glow. Energy flows through him to the dying man. His energy. The fever breaks instantly, the damage caused by the disease begins to fade away. Moments later, the man is whole once more. You have received His love, friend, now it is up to you to make the best use of it. You have pledged yourself to Him and now you have become saved. The man was speechless before sitting up. The sickness had ravaged his body for days, a feeling as if he was burning with cold. And now it was gone. The man was healthy again. Not just cured of the disease, but the aches taken from his bones, filled with a vitality once more. The man looked up. The man's eyes were wide open, and in them could be seen the faint glimmer of what the man had lost. His soul, pledged to Him in exchange for life. I.. dont know what to do.. He smiled at the man. You will learn, friend, it will come to you in time. For now, leave this place, and enjoy what his love has brought you. The man nodded, smiling weakly. Eventually he stood once more and did leave, back to his home and family. Another one he thought happily. And there will be more, one by one they will accept His truth, his hope, his love.
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
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