The Great Library of Palanthas

An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Halieth.

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 concise treatise on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Halieth' scribed in orange ink.


Author:    Halieth        
Date:      Sun Oct 26 18:33:42
2008
Subject     A new world order


"NO." I wrestled myself from the
nightmare and sat up in bed, beads of perspiration
covering my forehead. Many
years since the noble elven house of Dru'Elian was 
brutally murdered by
power-hungry men, the bloodied scene still continues to haunt me.

My mother, a
high elf, found herself becoming fond of a human warrior of Paladine who

rescued her from rogues during one of her travels. She was a cleric of Paladine
and had 
decided to traversed Krynn to bring aid to the suffering, much to the
consternation
of her father. It was during one of her most arduous journeys in
the Khalkist mountains
that brought together the forbidden matrimony.

I don't
remember, and probably don't allow my subsconscious to remind me, much of
my
childhood. We were pariahs and permitted to live only a distance away from
the Dru'Elians 
so as not to risk any undesirable association with them.


Still, from the distance, we could see the smoke that rose from the hearth of
the Dru'Elian
homes that day. As we fled, my hand held tightly in my mother's,
we stumbled over corpses
of valiant archers, swordsmen, children, and their
mothers. Suddenly, my mother's hold 
loosened and she cried out loud as she fell
to the ground beside a fallen warrior. 

My father, starjewel clasped tightly in
his hands, was no more. I tripped over a broken
shard as arrows flew through the
air, missing me by the hair of my neck, at the only
moving figure left on the
battlefield. 

As I tried to silent my anguished sobs and played dead, I prayed
to Paladine, the only 
God I knew as a child. Heavy boots trampled on my limbs--
I stifled a scream as I press 
my face deeper into the armor of a dead soldier.


When all fell silent after what seemed like days, I pulled myself up and ran
as far as my 
legs could carry me. I finally came to rest at a tranquil lake. I
was washing my tear- 
and blood-stained face when I felt a sting. Staring at my
reflection in the waters, I 
noticed there was now a deep cut in my right
brow.

Ten years passed, I have dedicated myself to Paladine as my mother did
and much desire
to be a cleric within the ranks of the Holy Order. I can only
now hope that I be deemed
worthy. I tucked the starjewel back under my sash and
fell back to sleep.

(OOC) Am petitioning Holy Order Light.

Author:  
 Halieth        
Date:      Sun Oct 26 18:40:37 2008
Subject     A new
world order


"NO." I wrestled myself from the nightmare and sat up in
bed, beads of perspiration
covering my forehead. Many years since the noble
elven house of Dru'Elian was 
brutally murdered by power-hungry men, the
bloodied scene still continues to haunt me.

My mother, a high elf, found
herself becoming fond of a human warrior of Paladine who 
rescued her from
rogues during one of her travels. She was a cleric of Paladine and had 
decided
to traverse Krynn to bring aid to the suffering, much to the consternation
of
her father. It was during one of her most arduous journeys in the Khalkist
mountains
that brought together the forbidden matrimony.

I don't remember, and
probably don't allow my subsconscious to remind me, much of my
childhood. We
were pariahs and permitted to live only a distance away from the Dru'Elians 
so
as not to risk any undesirable association with them. 

Still, from the
distance, we could see the smoke that rose from the hearth of the
Dru'Elian
homes that day. As we fled, my hand held tightly in my mother's, we
stumbled over corpses
of valiant archers, swordsmen, children, and their
mothers. Suddenly, my mother's hold
loosened and she cried out loud as she fell
to the ground beside a fallen warrior.

My father, starjewel clasped tightly in
his hands, was no more. I tripped over a broken
shard as arrows flew through the
air, missing me by the hair of my neck, at the only  
moving figure left on the
battlefield. 

As I tried to silent my anguished sobs and played dead, I prayed
to Paladine, the only 
God I knew as a child. Heavy boots trampled on my limbs--
I stifled a scream as I pressed 
my face deeper into the armor of a dead
soldier. 

When all fell silent after what seemed like days, I pulled myself up
and ran as far as my 
legs could carry me. I finally came to rest at a tranquil
lake. I was washing my tear- 
and blood-stained face when I felt a sting.
Staring at my reflection in the waters, I 
noticed there was now a deep cut in
my right brow.

Ten years passed, I have dedicated myself to Paladine as my
mother did and much desire
to be a cleric within the ranks of the Holy Order. I
can only now hope that I be deemed
worthy. I tucked the starjewel back under my
sash and fell back to sleep.

(OOC) Am petitioning Holy Order Light.

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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