An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Kaine.

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 leather bound tome with glowing glyphs on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Kaine' scribed in earth-colored orange ink.

Author:    Kaine          
Date:      Sat Mar  7
04:29:50 2009
Subject     A Warrior Born.

The wound
stung terribly, but it helped clear the daze in my head a
little
at least, it was something to focus on. The man was heartless,
he
would not relent his attacks until I began to form some
semblence of a
defense. As soon as I did he simply struck me
somewhere else, throwing me
back into another moment of confusion
and creating even more openings, which
he gladly pointed out to
me in that nasal filled voice nobles often adopt...
Shaking the
blurring tracers from my head and vision I did what any
perfectly
inadequate swordsman would do. I bumrushed him and tried to
tackle
him to the hard-packed dirt.

To my obvious relief he
accepted the charge, and immedietly relief turned
into more pain
as he turned my own momentum against me and forced my
hand
somewhere between my own shoulderblades. Followed by trip to
face the dirt
nose down. The man relented his grip and jump back
into a defensive
position, thinking I was beyond reason by then.
I simply dragged myself back
to my feet and dusted my clothing
(and face) off. I saluted his ability
before I took up the stance
he showed me, and started the routine from
the
beginning.....


The eyes stared back at me but there was no
recognition in them, they saw
nothing anymore... I snapped back
to the present abruptly. Staring down at
the corpse of the man
who had trained me all those years was rough on me.
Sighing I
went back to burying him and the several others who died that
day.
I survived the raid by hobgoblins and their smaller cousins,
more out of
luck than skill. I didn't freeze up, I faced them
with all of the skill I
had at my command, others weren't so
lucky... My family's old retainer
joined the battle as well, but
he was well past his prime.. Knowing the love
Kiri-Jolith held
for those of my family who listened to his stern voice, I
spoke a
simple prayer for him to guide the fallen for this day,
albeit
quietly. My father supported the Knighthood, but he was no
member. He was
scared we would be hated like they are, he was a
coward. He felt his large
contributions to the Order would buy
him their gratitude, but his support
was lacking in sincerity.
Just another plot to gain favor with those who
traded with him.
To speak of ancient Gods long thought lost to Krynn was, to
him,
madness. Not to mention bad for business.

A month after, I left.
I travelled to Solamnia in hopes of finding the
Knighthood well
and thriving... I saw instead, the remnants. Noble men
forced to
keep to their own, the talk in all of the cities towards
those
with Knightly bearing was disheartening. The masses hated
them, they hated
the ones who in history's past defended them
from evil, from people who
wished them harm... 

It was then I
decided my quest had changed, I knew there were others out there,
once I found them I would offer them my support.
They had to know
the Gods were with us still.  As such we could not let this
glorious order fade from memory.  I had no idea what to expect,
but I continued looking anyways...

Author:    Kaine   
      
Date:      Sat Mar  7 22:28:04 2009
Subject    
Walking the Path.

My journey had taken me to from
Sanction to Caergoth. The people of
Caergoth were more giving
towards my questions of the Knighthood, it seemed
some prominent
families still retained their status, in the services they
gave
freely to the community. Solamnic families. I was invited to
attend an
evening supper with one such family, as my family
itself had a solid
standing in the trades of this city as well.
It was a polite supper, though
lavish in the spread they offered.
Having seen so many lowered to the dirt
and begging for coppers
in the past, I ate lightly, not having the appetite
as I thought
of the comparison. Certainly they did help others, but more
could
be done.


After the repast was over we took brandy and spoke of
the troubles that
seemed to be expanding across the entire
continent. At one point I spoke of
Kiri-Jolith, though they
smiled politely and nodded, they obviously took me
for a fool. I
ignored the obvious disrespect and changed the subject to
the
Knighthood itself, seeking to learn of the political standing
and their over
all status. Apparently the Knighthood was in the
works for rebuilding
itself, a council was set in place but the
Grand Master was considered
missing, no one could verify or
explain why that was, however. As it was
growing late I exchange
words of thanks and promises of sending their fond
wishes to my
father. Always it seems that the political side of things
walked
hand in hand with those of the military... 

I continued my
journey the next morning, they told me where I could seek
a
meeting of the council. My petition would be heard soon enough,
I was not
due for another month however. I decided then to expand
my travel to the
outlying towns, I was told there were bandits
and goblins in the area. I
decided the best course was to give
them aid, in the name of Kiri, and
perhaps even the Solamnic
Knights. Working the gears of the political
mindframe, I decided
the Knighthood could use the good standing in the
process of
rebuilding. Plus who else would help those people...? 

The Storytellers of Ansalon, The DragonLance MUD

Astinus points to the massive wall of books behind him and bids you to make a selection.

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Astinus mentions 'We have had over 869 storytellers on Ansalon pen their epic stories here for all to read.'