An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Jarfi.

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 massive tome bound in dragonskin on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Jarfi' scribed in deep purple ink.

Author:    Jarfi          
Date:      Fri Nov 10 01:45:43 2006
Subject   Jarfi

From the past the history of his people was forgotten in all but
myths
and stories told amongst the ogre people late at night.  The one
given the
name of founder of this off shoot of the great race of ogre's
Treloran,
shielded himself and his followers partially from the curse that
plagues the
rest of the great ogres.  For all the years since our numbers
have dwindled
to the point where, the rest of the ogre people do not believe we
survive,
it has been many years lost with the death of the elders elders
that we
walked amongst our brethren.  Though we are also our own people
we long for
the unification of the ogre people.  As it should be, we shall
one day rule
the ogre nation again, and bring glory back to our people that
was taken
away by a jealous god.  We have remained hidden, my people
spreading
themselves all over the world learning what they can of the other
races, and
what it is that as a people we can do to regain our position as
the top of
the mortals.  It is rare that when we of the ogre-magi all come
together to
pass along the information each of us has gathered.  For now we
try not to
bring attention to ourselves while we slowly build upon our
magical powers,
our information growing yearly.  It is now nearly 400 years since
the event
of the cataclysm, and I have begun my journey, I am one of the
ones who is
traveling the great waters to find distant lands, and possibly
other ogre
villages to bring into our power.  And of course to find any
locations of
the hated idra, who soon shall paint the very ground red with
their blood. 
It is from deep within the mountains of Relgkthas that my journey
begins. 
Even for one of my power this journey before me alone will not be
the
easiest I have to make, nor will it prove to be the most
difficult.  For if
I do die, I do not deserve to be amongst my brethren.  High into
the
mountains I climbed, for many days which turned into weeks and
then into
months I climbed to the peaks of the mountains.  Each time I saw
nothing but
land before me.  It was many months later that finally the sight
that I had
been searching came into the view, to the north very slightly I
could see
the shimmering of the a great body of water.  During these many
months that
I spent within the mountains, living in the caves fighting off
the animals
who wished to make a meal of me, though these were few and far
between.  It
was the dwarves who caused me the most discomfort and annoyance. 
Several
times their patrols had almost caught me.  Somehow they had
defeated my
spells of protection around my campsites, I think somehow they
dug in from
underneath and came at me while I slept with the mountains caves.
 Had it
not been for a wolverine that I had made to be my familiar, I am
sure I
would not be wandering the docks of Palanthas today looking for a
ship to
join.  Once the dwarves had found me, they pursed me endlessly,
and though I
may hate them almost as much as Idra and elves, I do admire the
determination that the rock dwellars showed in trying to place my
head upon
a pike.  Though the pursuit ended when I entered into the
foothills.  I
travelled only at night from then on, letting the light of
Nuitari guide my
path, I reached the port city of Kalaman quite quickly and was
able to
secure passage upon a small merchant ship headed to Palanthas.  I
knew that
within the bars and taverns of the famed city of Palanthas I
would be able
to find a ship that would suit the purposes that fit into what I
was
required to do. 

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.'