An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Kesh.

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 book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Kesh' scribed in dark brown ink.

Author:    Kesh           
Date:      Wed Dec 16
10:25:06 2009
Subject     Palanthas, Born and Bred


On
the day of Soldai, 17th the Month of Bran, Gerrard Kesh Greyhem
was
born unto Atael and Brine, a young and optimistic couple.
Today Brine
Greyhem, a bright and intelligent shipping captain,
became both a proud
father and the head of a newly formed
business venture. Greyhem-Palanthas
Incorporated, then a single
ship company, was born just hours before the
infant. 

Today, the
Greyhem-Palanthas Shipyard is a prominent company, a
respectable
and money-generating operation that is, in the eyes
of some, largely
responsible for a new rising middle class. Just
as Brine lovingly raised his
son, so did he lovingly nurture his
fledgling enterprise. Kesh and the
shipyard grew up together, and
the young master Greyhem was often found (and
scolded by his
worrying mother) around his father's warehouse. Kesh loved
to
watch the hustle and bustle of the warehouse, the gruff and
weathered
sailors hauling and loading boxes of every product and
luxury imaginable. 

And as the boy and shipyard grew, so did the
fortunes of all Brine Greyhem's
friends and employees. Just the
right combination of luck, determination and
manageable setbacks
allowed for steady growth. And perhaps, if Brine had
played his
cards correctly, the Greyhem could have been swept off to
rub
shoulders the smug and haughty nobles of Palanthas.

But
Brine had no interest in standing around idly, chattering on
about
weather and fashion. Without any noble lineage whatsoever,
they Greyhems
would have been forever doomed to a miniscule
status. Instead, Brine
gathered to himself men of action,
philosophy and literature. Contemporary
thinkers and common-born
gentlemen were always welcome at Greyhem hearth.
Perhaps the
Solamnic nobles of Palanthas were jealous, hating to see a
common
family prosper, but a rift grew between the old families and the
new
rising wealth. And young Kesh grew up being told by great
men, tutors and
mentors that he symbolized a new wealth in
Palanthas. 

And Kesh believed them, growing in a strong,
charismatic leader. He is well
known throughout Palanthas,
especially amongst the maritime population. And
slowly, he has
begun to gain influence in other spheres. 

Author:   
Kesh           
Date:      Wed Nov 17 18:45:44
2010
Subject     Skipping town.



Kesh Reveliere leans
against an unlit lamppost, shoulder propped against the
cold
metal stem, intently grooming his nails with a slim file. He is
the
only visible figure on the lonely Palanthian avenue,
uncommonly cool in the
descending darkness. In the distance, a
small flame ignites as the
lamplighters begin their nocturnal
task. 

Like the constellations of the gods, the lamps of
Palanthas begin to outline
the glorious city. In a few moments,
the entire city will be emit a soft
glow through the fog, a
beacon of light through the night. But it is a
fleeting metaphor,
for the lamplighters guild know it's business well. By
the birth
of dawn, the lamps will be but smoldering wisps.

And by then,
Kesh Reveliere intends on being a richer man.

He waits
patiently, watching the line of lights march onward like
dutiful
ants. But he frowns, wondering if his man will come
through. He files slower
now, less interested in his fingers. And
finally, a sequence of three lamps
are suddenly expunged. They
leave a gap at the edge of Central Palanthas,
home of the
wealthiest residents of the
lordcity.



************************************



Dancing
through the shadows, Kesh makes his way across the rooftops
of
Central Palanathas. Ducking and weaving, he stops only at
irregular
intervals; behind chimneys or high vaulted terraces or
inside window sills.
Upon reaching the end house, he swiftly
swings down the side with
arm-wrenching drops. His limber arms
and legs allow him to navigate various
holds; the odd brick, more
window sills and deco placed by pompous
homeowners. 

"By the
now, the slain servants would have been discovered" Kesh thinks
to
himself, his heart racing against his chest. "How could they
have known
exactly where I was to enter! And armed nonetheless,
I've been betrayed!"
Indeed, it seemed that the two servants,
now lying in a pool of blood, were
expecting Mr. Reveliere.


Finally landing down, Kesh ditches his bloodied file into some
bushes. He
himself was badly cut, deep red seeing through his
shirt and cloak. But the
servants are worse off, their eyes
brutally slashes out by the dull file. 

Now heading straight for
the docks, Kesh races along as fast as the shadows
allow. Not far
behind, he hears the shuffle of armored guards and the rattle
of
swords in scabbards...A boat! Dark and seemingly uninhabited,
Kesh has no
other option for escape. He quickly scales the
outside rigging and slips
onboard.

He's safe, or so he prays. 

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.'