The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Devlynsyde.

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 gorgious hardback on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Devlynsyde' scribed in glowing maroon ink.


Author:    Devlynsyde     
Date:      Wed Nov  1 21:11:37
2017
Subject     Devlynsydes beginings.

Are we born evil, or do we simply become? An age old question that delves into the recesses of the soul. I believe that it comes down to the idividual themselves and will tell you a story of one such creature that roams the land of Krynn. Devlynsyde was born to normal enough parentage. His father Drakz was a blacksmith blacksmith, known for his fine steel, even keel and skill with hammer and blade. His mother was High cleric to a local Minotaur clan. Devlyn was taught many life lessons as a youth. His proclivity for battle was noticed early and he was singled out to be trained by the village master warrior. During training it was clear that Devlynsyde was a once in a generation warrior. He began besting his trainers within a year of training. Soon his skill spread beyond sword and hammer. He learned the shield as well. One day, training complete a young Devlynsyde was walking to the hut that he shared with his parents. His sword scabbard banged against his leg as he walked "i really need to get a better strap on that" he thought to himself. As he approached his home, something seemed different. The thick hair stood erect on the back of his neck and a shiver ran down his spine. A muffled scream came to his ears. Dev's breathing quickened, and his sword appeared in his hand almost immediately. He raced ahead and threw open the flap to the tent. He was not prepared for what lay inside.... As the flap lifted the first thing he saw was blood, lots of blood. He looked to the left with a darting glance and saw the lifeless body of his father lying on the stag rug that they had made from his first deer. The blood was still running from his fathers corpses, showing that he was breathing mere moments before. Devlynsyde stifled his emotions as best he could, for a young man, and proceded to look about the rest of the hut. Again, a screamming moan struck him. Like the wail of an inhuman banshee it was hideous to behold. Dev rushed outside and found his mother. She was surrounded by goblins, bleeding, broken, and wailing. The goblins noticed the intrusion and looked up from their fun. one of them, appearing to be the leader, screamed, "KIiiiiiiiIiilllll" A swarm of goblins rushed towards him, clawing through the dirt on all fours, coming from all sides. Devlynsydes sword flashed, with a life of its own. Goblin heads flew from bodies. From the side of his vision he could see his mother gasping, choking on her own blood. He knew there was only one chance to try and save her. He needed to cleave these fiends and run to her aid. His sword struck again and again, like lightning in a summer storm. Goblin after goblin fell. The sea of bodies began to break and he rushed to his mothers side, cradling her broken frame in his strong, young arms. Devlynsyde could see that she was done for. Blood gushed from her wounds, staining into his training armor, creating a shiny bloody color all its own. Dev reach his hand up to his mothers face, attempting to comfort her in the final moments of life. She choked, sputtered and gasped as the last of her breath left her body. Devlynsyde felt something snap, deep in his chest. Something broke, beyond repair. He lifted his head to the sky and a feral roar emerged from his throat. Rage, seething, burning hatred. Rage shook his body. He dropped the lifeless corpse to the ground, it made a wet, dull thud. Grabbing his blade in one hand he stampeded in the general direction that the largest pack of goblins went. He did not have to search far nor long. No more than a hundred yards from his families brtual murder he found his prey. They had regrouped and were coming for him. Devlynsyde swung his blade with all the fury he could muster, screaming imcomprehensibly, overcome with emotion. No longer able to hold back emotion, tears crept from this eyes. His vision blurred as his eyes welled with tears. "no! not now" he thought. "i need my eyes"

Author: Devlynsyde Date: Wed Nov 1 21:16:58 2017 Subject Dev's beginnings pt 2.

To little to late as often it is in battle. Before he could clear his emotions and rub the sadness from his eyes, he saw a flash of silver coming for him. Instictively he lifted his sword to block the blow. He felt the blade caroom off of his, biting deep into his hemet in the process. His own strike ended in a another goblin's chest. He could feel heat on his face, sticky bloody heat. Lifting his helmet off, he slumped to the ground, blood running through his fingers as he lifted them from his face. Black circles started to form in his vision, the world went dark as the ground came up to meet him. THUD Devlynsyde strained to open his eyes. Light rushed in, he felt...different. Before him, dressed in black, was a priestess. She looked at him a somber expression and bright, glowing, green eyes. "you are lucky to be alive," she said. "You shall wear that scare for life, as it is beyond even my healing powers" Dev reached a hand to his face. His fingers touching, probing his wound. A clean slice, running from the top of his eyebrow clean down, through his cheek. It felt cold to the touch, and dry. He gazed at the cleric. "hhh hhoww" he stammered. Confused at how he was still alive. She grinned evilly. "Takhisis provides" she said "if you are willing to listen. Come with me, i will show you the ways of darkness" From that moment on, Dev knew that he would be a force for evil. Fighting in the name of Takhisis, with honor, From that moment on, Dev knew that he would be a force for evil. Fighting in the name of Takhisis, with honor, difference. It could help unite the scum of the world into one force, it could help control the chaos, the madness of the hordes, the humans, the kender, the good and evil alike. He had found....His Purpose, his Calling.

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