An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Brulk.

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 'Brulk' scribed in brilliant yellow ink.

Author:    Brulk          
Date:      Sat Sep  4
11:16:38 2010
Subject     making of a monster pt
1

Gentle breeze to stir the heavy sail, the gentle lap of
water upon small
boats hull. Deep grunts and groans as massive
muscles bulged and rippled
with the strain of fish laden net. Fur
dark as night time waters glistened
with the sweet sweat of heavy
labor, eyes soft brown in brutish short
muzzled face. Horned head
downturned as with a wet plop the net cleared the
rail and fell
to the boats deck. A grin split that short boxy muzzle, with
it's
touch of sea foam fur. Laughter deep and bellowing carried forth
across
the water as sea spray leaped to grace the hulking form.
Brulk laughed deep
and rumbling as he looked at his haul his mind
toyed with the delight lil
sis would find in todays catch Surely
even that old sour, and hateful dock
master would smile and leave
off with picking on the clanless and seeming
dim witted minotaur
that set about putting catch into the hull. standing
finally at
last finished his brown eyed gaze swept the waters,
before
closing to better feel the gentle rocking of his tiny
fishing boat. To enjoy
the crisp sea air, and feel the awesome
power that for the moment seemingly
dormant. yet only a fool
would forget the horror of a swift sea storm, would
forget the
ragin water. Slow to act or react, patient and calm young
Brulk
was many things but foolish was not among them. Nor
dim-witted lacking in
any education but that of the sea, of the
places to catch certain fish, and
weather. Of how to rig a sail,
and mend his nets, these where what he knew
and his fathers
before him. knowing nothing of gods or goddesses he still
dropped
a carved figure of a leaping fish over the rail and turned his
boat
to land. Of how to rig a sail, and mend his nets, these
where what he knew
and his fathers before him. knowing nothing of
gods or goddesses he still
dropped a carved figure of a leaping
fish over the rail and turned his boat
to land. Grinning and
whistling Brulk smiled far broader as the peaceful
cove and his
little shack lay. at sight of gaint ship the smile
turned
downwards, one thickly calloused and scarred finger rose
to scratch his
head. His voice like distant thunder rumbled forth
from his cavernous chest
"ey now who be dats I wonders... Hopin
lil sis be havin nuff left overs fer
me." he spoke still wearing
his slight frown. Angling his boat to the tiny
dock, he was soon
walking in his slow lumbering fashion to the shack he and
lil sis
called home. Shrill scream of some tortured beast rose forth
upon
the wind near ear splittting and heart wrenching to hear.
Word barely
intelligable one single word from a voice that
brought forth a roar to equal
any dragons. Roaring in sheer and
utter rage, in mindless black fury that
usual slow and lumbering
gait turned into a reckless stampede. One stride,
two and shapes
could be seen around his shack shapes both great and small
tall
and short. Various forms that where turning slowly to regard
the
roaring maddened minotaur. Like him many had horns unlike him
broad grins
split there muzzles in twain. "Hey now seems we gets
to play with da wenches
lover while boss has his fun." The
largest spoke laughing as he slide a
rusty notch bladed cutlass
from his sash. striding easily he made to cut off
the roaring
beast that charged towards him, those that had seen the
rage
unleashed would of warned him, those that had seen the
hurricanes aftermath
would have ran. There was no pause, no
break, no slowing down the cutlass
sailed backwards as one thick
hand slammed into the pirates throat. In
seconds he was upon them
roaring and spitting froth from nostrils and mouth,
once brown
eyes burned with hideous delight and murderous intent. Words
a
stream of such foulness to have the most hardened sailors
covering their
bleeding ears erupted from brulks soon blood
dripping maw. Spitting out part
of a once breathing pirate Brulk
whirled in time to see another minotaur
glide from the shake,
naked crimson stained blade held casually in one hand.
In the
other a white furred head, large blind eyes staring unseeing at
the
hulking brute. A smile spread it's way across the captains
face as he saw
what he thought was shock upon Brulks face. A
twitch a slow tremble that
grew as scarlet orbs gazed upon lil
sis's face, the mind was full of cold
fury went blank, and still.
The world itself exploded into darkness lit
briefly by flashes of
silver light. few would of thought one so large could
move so
quick, his earlier charge was nothinng compared to what now he
did.
Muscle memory alone guided him, and sudden euphoria of
knowing he would kill
again. It came swiftly a flash of blade
that flew to low for the suddenly
flying form, horns long and
sharp slammed into the captains stomach through
the kidneys and
erupted out his back. Twisted and sick smile curled the
left
corner of brulks lips, curled only the left as he landed
hard upon one knee.
Standing to his full height thick neck
muscles bulging, he roared in
euphoric glee as life water spilled
down horns and head. (to be continued) 

Author:   
Brulk          
Date:      Mon Sep  6 23:19:39
2010
Subject     making of a monster pt. 2

Pain distant
memory in a sea, of emptiness. Crack of rigging and sail
merging
with the sound of the cat o nine, as it slashed its way across
flesh
and muscle. A grunt soft as lovers kiss denied passage into
crisp sea air,
eyes half glazed, empty of life stared forth from
the seat before the oars.
The head a huge boulder with a short
boxy muzzle tilted to one side,
lifeless eyes stared out over the
decking out to the rippling ever moving
world. Deaf ears failed
to hear the rage as the first mates arm snapped back
and forward,
the whoosh of the cat-o-nines brought no response. Not even
a
wince from the huge form. To brulk nothing matter his mind was
a vast hole,
filled only with a brief flicker of white, of beauty
withing a blind womans
face, and soft words now only a memory.
All else didn't matter, not the
cruel bite of the first mates
weapon, not the boots that smashed his most
tender areas.Not even
the oar that was held uselessly in his heavily
calloused
hands.

yet there to was the soft seduction within the sea, the
beauty within the
liquid surface mesmorizing movement. A strange
faint echo, perhaps a voice,
or perhaps insanity seemed to
whisper to him within the sounds of sea. "Bah
this bloody
half-wit, is worthless. can't believe he kilt the old cap'n.
Look
at him bloody useless steer just stares out at the sea till we
beat the
stroke." the mates voice was a harsh guttaral thing
coming from the thin
humans twisted lips. Many amongst crew, and
slaves nodded, some glancing at
the massive form and roaring in
laughter. "oh but that woman now...." the
rest was lost within
the mates screams, as once motionless form exploded
into motion.
Once blank eyes flaring with scarlet death, huge hand
smashed
viscously into the junction of the mates crotch, even as
the other snapped
chains that should of held even the large
minotaurs impressive strength. yet
few could of guessed the beast
within the gnawing ever present hunger for
blood and revenge.
Fewer still would of known the swift and deadly mood
swings that
had gripped Brulk his entire life. happy one second he could
be
involved in a brawl before one could blink an eye. Now a brawl
it was as
sailors lunged many swinging weapons that were readily
available, striking
viscously the seemed little more then a ball
of swinging arms and feet. All
sorrounding an avalanche, of
viscous fists, feet, horn and teeth. Lack of
food, and vilest
abuse soon became apparant as even the berserker rage did
little
more then add a faint trace of xtra strength. Soon
staggering
backwards glowing eyes rolling backwards showing white
as the foam that
spewed forth from thick lips. Back he was driven
the largest part of former
mate swinging within his hand, barely
keeping back the clubs, and staves.
Wood smashed against back as
he backed into the railing. Back he was driven
the largest part
of former mate swinging within his hand, barely keeping
back the
clubs, and staves. Wood smashed against back as he backed into
the
railing.

Pain flared as stave cruel end smashed against his
sternum, twas a grunt
that escaped his lips an ommfff of
bellowous air that toppled him backwards
and into Zeboims
arms.


Author:    Brulk          
Date:      Fri
Sep 10 17:08:29 2010
Subject     Green makes Brulk
smash

Soft swells like virgin breasts danced within
silken the silken
moonlight, lovers whispers lay within the
genlte lap of water and rock. The
gentle mist of salty spray a
fair maidens kiss upon furred form, and the
faint breeze that
carressed his dark form. Raucous calls, and drunken song
far
distant from the seductive lure of his beloved seas. Yet still
the fires
of hate and rage filled his eyes, his form trembled as
with the rythmic beat
of the surf massive hands opened and
closed. Gone was the stillness brought
forth from some faint
remanant of inner peace, gone was the calm that danced
within him
at the sight of the mother. Strange one would think upon
seeing
those eyes, seeing not the roaring, raging forestfires
that was his norm.
Nay oculars of fire as cold, deadly and
unforgiven as the lands of ice
starred out from his dark form.
His face frozen into a mask of disbelieving
rage, and contempt as
words spoken in his booming, and ponderous way escaped
his
muzzle. "Not right, this not right at all. Water no green, yet
there it
is green as slime on side of ship."

Movement came then
swift and sudden explosive like the attack of a predatory
shark,
soon lost within the silken embrace of darkness save for the
rythmic
thumping of heavily calloused feet. The stops he chose
that night where few
and as diverse as any adventuring group had
ever been. A tavern loud, with
roaring songs threating to deafen
everyone within the city. Soon though he
was once more upon the
move, leaving behind the brawling sailors

The next stop strange,
mind boggling for like a nightmare he swept into the
library. His
eyes burning for revenge, yet his voice was silken soft a
whisper
as narrowed eyes continually swept the shaking scholar. Soon
though
he was lead to yet another scholar, who soon was closeted
into a readign
room with the massive minotaur. Dawn had come and
gone before brulks feet
dealt the ground successive death blows
again. His face, and eyes had yet to
change, and still his hands
opened and closed with lethal intent.

but one more stop did he
make more outrageous and would of had every crew
that knew him
rolling in laughter, then hanging someone that dared utter
such a
lie. For indeed his hatred of those he deemed lil robes was
almost as
bad as his hatred for the one behind his sisters
murder. Yet there within
the city of palanthas the massive
minotaur gained audience with a mage that
he had fought beside.
Long did these two talk, long did they like discuss
Brulks
questions about the strange disturbance at the harbor. Like a
bulldog
with a bone, Brulk picked the poor mages brain like he
did for the previous
people apart. Searching trying to glean the
faintest hint of any clue,
indeed going so far if anything
similar had ever happened. As with the two
previous the mage was
left shaking his head at the retreating back, his
words where a
bare whisper. "Talks like a daft blubbering steer. Roars like
a
dragon with a kender in his treasure chamber, bout as couth as a
half
naked savage. yet perhaps there is a brain within that
oversized horned head
of his." shaking his head yet again the
mage turned and was soon involved in
digging up scraps searching
for answers to the questions poised this day. 

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 mentions 'We have had over 869 storytellers on Ansalon pen their epic stories here for all to read.'