The Great Library of Palanthas
An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.
Stories of Ansalon from the view of Gorin.
A little gully dwarf runs by and says 'Wordwrap 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 gilt in gold on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Gorin' scribed in light red ink.
Author: Gorin Date: Wed Mar 25 06:30:28 2009 Subject Gorin's Travels The wind whistled through Solace, causing the great Vallenwoods to groan under the onslaught. Gorin peered at the sign at the base of the wooden walkway that read: "The Inn of the Last Home" "Hrmph. Well, let's hope they have a decent glass of ale." He glanced up at the walkway that still swayed in the evening breeze. "Bloody trees. A dwarf belongs on the damn ground." He sighed and began to trudge up the long walkway. As he eased open the door to the inn, a wall of light and sound struck him an almost physical blow. The common room of the treetop inn was filled with people. Gorin forced his way through the throng, towards the bar. "Ale, " He said, slapping a coin on the bar as the overweight man behind the bar stepped over. The man nodded and made the coin disappear in the same motion that he set a mug of dark ale on the bar. He had been sitting at the bar for a few ales before a hand clamped on his shoulder and he was spun around, to face one of the ugliest Neidar dwarves he had ever seen. "Well, if it isn't a Theiwar! And look at that boys, he's drinking our ale!" Laughter echoed around Gorin, and he saw that there were several Neidar dwarves standing around him. His head was only mildly fuzzy from the ale, but it had been a long day of travel, and he didn't like being in this treetop inn. He slammed his right fist into the laughing Neidar's face, shouting words of magic as he did so. His hand struck the laughing dwarf, and apparantly burst into flames. Both his hands now apparently on fire, he turned and started striking out at the other Neidar dwarves. The flames were just an illusion, and he didn't even believe that any of the onlookers had gotten a good look. It was a small trick, but all he had been able to think of. The rest of the evening was a bit of a blur for Gorin, but he woke up the next morning outside of the town with a ringing headache, and brused knuckles. His lips were both smashed to a gory mush and his right arm wasn't working quite right. "What a day to meet some mages." He managed to get out through bloody lips before turning, and walking away from solace, onward.
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 868 storytellers on Ansalon pen their epic stories here for all to read.'
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