The Great Library of Palanthas
An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.
Stories of Ansalon from the view of Dyranel.
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 beautiful hard bound book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Dyranel' scribed in rich yellow ink.
Author: Dyranel Date Mon Dec 19 22:02:29 2005 Subject Dark Ambitions Shadows crept across the land as the sun dipped slowly behind the horizon, the red moon shaded the land a light red as Lunitari appeared as nothing more than a crescent. Dyranel slipped through the moaning trees as the wind creaked through the branches and breezed lightly upon his face. Upon reaching a valley, Dyranel knew he was getting close to his destination. Peering through the darkness he could barely make out the end of the mountain range southeast of bloden, near the border of Silvanost. Knowing he must keep a wary eye out for would be elven watchmen, he stands behind a tree staring out for many moments just scanning the field. Finnally, Dyranel ducks down and charges into the tall, waving grass. Having not seen anyone he moves quickly hoping to reach the shadows of the mountains before it is possible for anyone to see him. Needing to reach an outpost as the watches begin, knowing that would be his best chance to see the elves in the light of a fire before they ventured out to make their hourly rounds. Certain traits must be seen before he can complete his quest he has set out to complete tonight, a quest that he has completed many times, and has only gotten harder because of his diligence. The shadows of the range washed over him, and he arose from beneath the cover of the grass, looking around he spotted a flickering glow near the base of a foothill rolling beside the mountain range. Moving quickly in its direction it did not take Dyranel long to reach a point where he could see figures moving about the embers of a large bonfire. Creeping as close as he dared, so as to not create a noise for the elves to hear and cause alarm, he stooped down low and rested upon a knee leaving his eyes just above the height of the grass and waited for his oppurtunity to arise. Looking closely he could see that there were only two elves that he had deemed unsuffice for his plans, as his luck it looked as though both of them would be staying at the camp. Although, instead of sending out one of their number at a time, they were sending two of them out to do the watch round. Uncommon for the usual night, but they must be attempting to stop the disappearances of their watchmen. Pulling a long dagger from his belt, he gripped it tightly in one hand. The cords wrapped about the handle of the dagger gripping nicely in his great palm, he watched the elves walk away from the camp and become encompassed by the darkness. Quickly glancing back at the camp before he made his way to follow the two elves. They walked slowly, bantering to each other heartily, as though they lacked worry about the disappearances previous to that which would soon be their own mishap. Waiting for the perfect moment, Dyranel quietly padded along behind them until finally one of the burst out in laughter apparently at what the other had said. Dyranel quickly lunged forward thrusting his dagger through the neck of the elf that had been laughing so happily and wrapping his enormous hand over the mouth of the other elf. The laughing had become nothing more than a distraught gurgling as blood rushed warmly down the blade and over the hand of Dyranel. The other elf squirmed in distress, trying to scream through the giant paw that nearly smothered his face. Slightly twisting the dagger before wrenching it from the bleeding elf, he raised it above his head and gave a good swing knocking the elf atop the head with the hilt, knocking him unconcious. Looking down he saw that the elf he had stabbed was still looking on in terror, Dyranel smiled at him before lugging the unconcious elf up over his shoulder and walking back toward the forest from whence he had come...
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