An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Dauer.

A little gully dwarf runs by and says 'Wordwrap is at 80. 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 pamphlet on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Dauer' scribed in glowing yellow ink.

Author:    Dauer          
Date:      Sat Oct 23 05:38:01
2010
Subject     Exile

Waves swell and break. Foam gathers then bursts
against the smooth wooden
hull, oil-stained, and barnable-covered. A minotaur
stands at the prow-her
body gently swaying in motion with the ship. SHe stands
with legs braced and
arms crossed before her tatterred robes. Her head is bowed
in
concentration-eyes closed. Water leaps over the railing and lightly
spatter
her crimson hide. Nostrils flare every few minutes-controlled breaths.
Scars
criss-cross her hands and twist around her forearms, disappearing into
the
robe's sleeves.

"Ho! Runt. We reach Palanthas soon." Dauer flicks her tail
once. After weeks
on the ship, the crew knew this as a sign of her
acknowledgement. When she
first approached them they nearly threw her
overobard-but she defeated the
captain in a duel, unarmed. Embarassed-they kept
silent and agreed to grant
her passage.

A black shape darts overhead. Swift.
Silent. Dauer's ears twitch slightly.
No one else reacts. A feather drifts down.
It trails the tips of her horns,
twirls above her snout, and hovers over her
arms. Before it sinks further,
she casually grabs i t. Opens her eyes and
glances aside at it. It's a
fairly long feather-probably from plummage of a
large avian. It's black and
gleams a blood-red in the sunlight. She looks ahead
and Palanthas spears the
horizon. Tucking the feather into her sleeves, Dauer
turns towards the
cabins to gather her meager possessions. Her exile begins. 

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.'