An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Balil.

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 a small book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Balil' scribed in dull white ink.

Author:  Balil
Date    Mon May 13 08:30:31 2002


Subject  The Flame




The flame....

Beautiful, destructive, artful, vengeant.

Still a boy in my own right, I was raised in a small village in
northern
Ergoth.  Like most boys, I dreamt of being a warrior just like my
father.

My father, on the other hand, dreamt that I would be something
different.  A
mage perhaps, or a merchant.  Something that would keep me out of
battle.  I,
however, would have none of that and took to training in the arts
of warfare
at a young age

Then the fire came.  Not the beautiful flame of a campfire, not
my mother's
small cookfire, but the hot flames of a torch, setting our homes
ablaze as a
mercenary army arrived in town.

I was no fool.  The odds were stacked against us all.  Our town
in ruins, I
fled with my family, with my friends.  Taking our horses, we rode
day and
night, always looking over our shoulders.

Riding south, we found refuge in a small wagon train that was
bound for the
coast.  Having no real choice, we went along with them.  Always
in my mind,
the fire, the flames, looking over my shoulder constantly, that
was life to
me.

The other children were comforted by their parents, but I knew it
wasn't over.
 As long as I was weak, I would never be able to defend myself
against those
that would try to harm me.  I would have to train harder.

The flame, always in the back of my mind, became more of an
obsession to me. 
I relished the beauty of it.  My parents became worried, seeing
this as
perhaps a bad omen, but I didn't care.  Then came the day I saw
his face....

He was beautiful.  His beard was made of the flame around him,
the campfire
I'd lit.  Every part of him screamed beauty, it was an awesome
site.  No words
were exchanged.  None were needed.  I knew who he was, though not
by name.

He was a two-edged sword.  Part of him was encouraging me, the
other half was
warning me.  I reached into the fire, my hands blistering in the
heat.  Those
around me were oblivious to me, but I knew it was him causing
that.

The hotter my hand got, the more it became uncomfortable.  When I
pulled my
hand back, it was glowing, the fiery redness encompassed it, and
spread around
my body.  I never lost the gaze of the man within the flames.  He
stood there,
not smiling, not showing any sign of emotion, but somehow I knew
I had his
approval.  But what did it mean?  What did this portend? 
Perhaps, I decided,
it was time for me to leave this wagon train and find this for
myself...



Author:  Balil
Date    Mon Jun 10 21:27:13 2002


Subject  Called by the Flame




The flame flickered beautifully inside the cold glass.

Red, yellow, orange, a myriad of colors, all twisting and turning
hypnotically.  To any casual observers, it would mean nothing,
but to the man
holding it, it spoke to him, telling him of what he needed to do.

Reminding him of the words of his God Sirrion that he would never
forget,
burned into his mind.

"The Balance is in danger, my servant," he had said, "You must
take the
initiative.  First seek out those that worship me.  Draw them
together, they
must unite."

His God's face was beautiful, the fire flowed around his body in
a way that
made him not fearful, but exquisite.

"Convert those that would believe, that would become my
followers.  Be weary,
as there are many that will not appreciate your views, but do not
mind.  I am
with you."

And as Sirrion had reached out his hand, the flame seemed to be
drawn into the
vessel he now held, the wonderful fire that lit his path.

Balil sat, his mind pouring over the map in front of him.  He sat
for long
moments, his view flickering from the flame and then to the map,
searching for
some sign.

And then, it hit him.  The Lost Temple of Sirrion.

That should be his first destination.  He packed up his few
travelling
trappings and strapped his sword to his back.  Turning to walk
out the door,
only one thought remained.  "Where is it?"




Author:  Balil
Date    Tue Jun 11 18:42:56 2002


Subject  The flame burns within...




The journey found him seeking shelter from a sandstorm in the
city of Tarsis. 
His journey had seen his body grow leaner on the trail rations he
had carried
and a few people had joined him on the way.  Mostly wanderers,
they had seen
something in the flame he carried...something that they knew that
they had
been missing all of their lives.  Balil didn't promise them
glory, he didn't
give them any reassurance that the decision they were making was
the right
one.  He simply held the Flame to their eyes and let them see
themselves...

Walking into an inn in Tarsis, the five of them sat down at a
table, ordering
whatever the meal was for the night and making the arrangements
to rest for
the evening.

Balil's wandering eye caught the red of a mage's robes and he
watched the man
from afar.

The mage was performing feats of illusion, bedazzling the
children and winning
the approval of their mothers.  He didn't need to bedazzle them
to win that
though, for he was a fairly handsome man, with long black hair
flowing across
the crimson of his robes.

Balil rose from his table and watched the mage, then, as his show
came to an
end, he introduced himself.

'Good sir, my name is Balil, and I'm on a mission.  I have seen
your
abilities, and I am wondering why you are here in this
establishment, when
your illusions can be refined and your powers increased by the
Flame.  Have
you not heard?'

Wearily, the mage eyed him, looking into his eyes.

'What you suggest is punishable by death in the Conclave.

I wouldn't go about trying to convince any other mages to do such
a thing. 
You may find them a bit..resistant.'

Balil chuckled and smiled at the mage.  'It is obvious to me from
what I've
seen that you are a bit...unhappy with your current situation. 
Has the
Conclave grown weary to you?  Have you been ignored or rejected
by the machine
that is the Order of High Sorcery?  Yes I can see it in your
face.  Here in
this inn, it is safe for you to be yourself.  But in the
Towers....yes, I know
all too well.

Don't be afraid, Sir, look into the flame.  There is power
within.  The flame
will embrace you and your mastery of the beauty within it will
know no
bounds.'

Balil stepped back as the mage eyed the Eternal Flame, his body
shaking and
his eyes coming to tears.

Back at his table, he shared the experience with his companions. 
Smiling, he
turned around and noticed the mage listening in.  As he rose to
his feet
again, Balil embraced the red robe, taking the Flame from his
quivering
hand.....



Author:  Balil
Date    Thu Jun 20 22:08:19 2002


Subject  Paradise Found




The sword in his hand ran red with the blood of those that seeked
to hamper
his journey.  Balil was growing in his power because he was
growing in his
faith.  At a few words and a gesture of his dark, Ergothian
skinned hand, the
God of Nature rewarded his servant and caused the land to rise
up, surrounding
the advancing group of bandits, allowing what was left of his
entourage to
wake short work of them.  The mage, Tethen, that had joined him
in Tarsis, had
grown in his mastery of fire magic, and had needed no such
assistance, but was
glad of it.  He effortlessly showed those that were trapped in
the vines that
held them fast the beauty of the chaotic nature of flame, before
he unleashed
it in a deadly torrent, removing their menace.

Tethen turned to the Templar of the Flame, noticing that for the
first time he
could remember, Balil smiled a genuine beam at him.  'Master
Balil, are you
pleased with me?'  Balil turned, his eyes focusing on a spot in
the distance.
'Yes, that is the truth, I am extremely pleased with your growth,
and your
faith in the God that brings you your power.  You will certainly
grow farther
under his care than any of those silly Conclave mages ever dream
of.  If you
must now, however, my smile was of a sudden realization of where
the Flame is
leading us.'

His fiery red and yellow robes seemed to burn around his excited
form, his
gleaming red armor shone in the sun, making his radiant smile and
dark skin
that much more pronounced as he increased his walking speed,
urging Tethen and
the others on.  'Come, we must make haste, the Lost Temple of
Sirrion is near!
 We are expected!'

Tethen organized the other four followers still left, 2 brothers,
half-ogres
the both of them, a Kagonesti elf, and another mage, one that
Tethen had taken
as an apprentice.

Sighing at the group, he scanned them and noticed that their
gazes were not
off in the distance, as Balil's was, but focused on the templar
rushing off to
the north.

Everyone's eyes met suddenly with the realization of where they
were headed. 
Disbelief, almost to the point of humor set in.  Lost Temple of
Sirrion or
not, they were heading in the direction of Kendermore.



Author:  Balil
Date    Mon Jun 24 11:22:06 2002


Subject  The Cave of Knowledge




A group of 50 screaming, curious kender chased Balil through the
streets of
Kendermore.  After having been appropriated of his steel, his
gold, and a few
other odds and ends he carried with him, he clutched tightly onto
the Flame in
his hands and ran towards safety, if such a thing could be found.

"Show us that thing with the neat fire again!" screamed one
kender, excitedly.
 "My Uncle Trapspringer had one of those fire things one time! 
He got it from
a real live red dragon!  Come back and I'll tell you all about
it!"

screamed another.  Looking around, Balil's only hope seemed to
lie in the only
other follower of Sirrion that accompanied him to Kendermore, and
that was
Tethen.

Unfortunately, in their quest to show the kender the wonders of
Sirrion, they
had been more than a little misinformed as to what the statement
'As curious
as a kender' really meant.

Rounding a corner, they found a nice, small hole in the earth,
rising from the
ground.  Neither of them knew exactly what lay inside, but as
they looked at
each other, they realized that nothing could prove quite as
fearsome as a mob
of kender that were extremely interested in what you were doing. 
Running at
top speed, they dashed into the hole, leaving any thought of
caution behind
with the mob that raced past the hole, strangely oblivious to it.

The Flame lit the way in the dark of the cave, almost urging the
duo on.  As
they walked deeper inside, Tethen began to feel a bit uneasy and
urged Balil
to stop now so that they could regather their bearings and
continue the search
for the Temple.  Seeing the logic in his words, the templar slung
his pack
down from his shoulders to try to take note of everything that
the kender had
handled from him.  As he dropped his mace, the Eternal Flame
flickered a bit,
and it seemed to Balil as if it was threatening to exstinguish
itself. 
Frightened, his hands clenched it once again, feeling the
familiar power and
warmth course through his veins.  He smiled and began to feel
reassured until
the Flame flickered again.  This time he felt the wind that
caused it.  The
crystal surrounding the Flame seemed not to be able to stop the
strange wind,
causing the Flame to throw strange shadows upon the wall of the
cave.

Balil whirled around as he heard an ear-piercing scream from
Tethen, and saw
the disturbance's source.  A great winged creature towered over
them both, its
eyes red, gazing at them both in disdain.  Its lips curled into a
snarl,
revealing sharp, white teeth against its dark greenish-black
skin.  'Who
disturbs the Guardian's rest?' it screamed interrogatively. 
'Those who wish
to enter must first pass the Test that He designed.  I will not
allow anyone
to disturb their work.' Balil swallowed hard, his hands clenching
the crystal,
drawing blood.  The warm feeling dissipated from his body and all
of it seemed
to draw back into the Flame.  The crystal leapt from his hands
suddenly, and
in a ball of flame, disappeared.  The creature smiled at Balil
and snorted in
derision.  'YOU!  You are the one He chose and sent to us?  Pah! 
You don't
look as though you could lead a merchant to steel!  I will see
now if you are
truly worthy!'  The creature drew in a breath and then swooped
down upon the
two red-robed figures.....

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.'