An Aesthetic shows you to the private room of Eleena.

Eleena's Abode

The scent of rose petals and sea breeze assails your senses as you enter the humble personal abode of Eleena Estarius. An odd leather bag filled with beans forms an amazingly comfortable chair in the corner of the room next to the lively fireplace. Several small statues of minotaurs and wood carvings of elves sits on the mantelpiece. You light a white candle and carry it with you to the bean bag, adjusting yourself comfortably in the seat.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Eleena.

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 large tome on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Eleena' scribed in vibrant green ink.

Author:  Eleena
Date    Thu Nov 25 04:42:19 2004



Subject  Winds of Change



Dawn finally came.

At the first hint of light, I jumped up from my bed, neat and not
laid in.
Slumber eluded me las night as thoughts of my homeland recurred
endlessly in
my mind.

Silvanost, I am coming home at last.

I tightened the laces of my breeches, tucked my money pouch
firmly into the
woven sash around my waist and picked up my blades. I wore my
trusty blades in
their sheaths secured to my back with simple leather straps, the
Blade of
Eventide crossed over Requiem. Picking up my suede sack, I step
noiselessly
out of my room in the Bloody Talon, the inn I have been putting
up at since I
arrived at Palanthas. Treading lightly on the stairs down, I made
not a single
sound. I tossed a couple of pieces of steel on to the counter,
startling the
innkeep:

"Geebers! Where in the name of Reorx's beard did you come from!
I told you
to quit scaring me like that..." he grumbled

"Heh," I chortled "No more of that from now on, at least
until I return.
Is that steel enough to pay for what I owe? Or do I owe more
than I
thought?"

"'tis 'nough to pay for double your stay!" The innkeep's eyes
lit up as he
counted the steel pieces "Now, where the hell did you get all
this money
when you were broke as hell last week? I swear....." He
looked up to see
that he was talking to the air as I had left him to his own
mumbling once I
made sure I paid the right sum.

I stepped out into the streets, almost drenched by the damp dew
hanging in the
morning air. I looked up at the sun, peeking shyly over the roofs
of
Palanthas, the stars still visible in the brightening nightsky.
Soon, I would
see these same stars through the roof of the beautiful Tower of
the Stars in
Silvanost.

I care not now for what the elves will say when they see me. They
will not and
cannot bar me from entry. The shadows is my friend, my 'magic'
pathway past
the doors and battlements, even the strongest ramparts cannot
stop me for as
they cry 'Intruder!' I shall be past and at the side of my
beloved and benign
Speaker and mother. I return to Silvanost to see the ones I love
before it's
too late. News have it that the Speaker is ill, some say deathly
ill. The
Speaker was kind to me, in spite of my birth, my blood. He loved
me like his
own, but the other elves will not stand for it. Bad enough that a
bastard
child live amongst them, but to be adored by their leader, the
elves were
nearly livid. By fifteen, I had enough of all the name-calling
and
hypocrisies. I kissed my teary mother goodbye and bade farewell
to the
Speaker. Trembling slightly, he took me in his arms for the last
time, 'My
child, this circlet will protect you from harm. Keep it with you
and may it
someday remind you of us and bring you back to me."

Some weeks ago, I met some mercenaries whom I used to travel with
around the
isles of the Pirate seas. I spoke of my desire to visit Silvanost
and I was
immediately offered a passage with them, set to sail along the
Turbious Ocean,
onward to Northern Courrain, past the Blood seas of Istar, and
southward to
Silvanost.

Now, to my beloved land, I will return.

Author:           Eleena
Date    Thu Oct 13 12:25:33 2005
Subject  A tribute to the wind

Sailing on the pirate seas, I looked out to beyond the horizon. 
What do
the days to come hold?  Just this day I heard rumours of Basher's
suicide. 
I lament that I never knew him well, and I wondered at what his
life was
like before he so abruptly ended it.  Brave tales are now being
told in the
wake of his death, perhaps legends that one day be writ unto the
pages of a
journal in Astinus' collection; or perhaps a trace of ink
scarcely upon the
parchment before it fades.

I shut my eyes, the song of the seas in my ears. "May Kiri-Jolith
bless your
passage in the afterworld", I softly uttered a silent prayer to
the wind.  

Pulling a pouch of rose petals from her rucksack, Eleena
scatters them upon
the sea in a tribute to Basher, all the while humming a pirate
song.

Softly as the willows sway,
Softly as I'm on my way,
The further from home I would to stay,
softly my heart whittles away.

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.'