An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Knom.

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 thread-bare book bound in cloth on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Knom' scribed in dull grey ink.

Author:    Knom           
Date:      Thu Aug  6
14:24:15 2009
Subject     I must be dyslexic!

Gasping
for breath with his lifeblood pouring from his chest, the
burly
minotaur stared up at me with sadness in his eyes. We both
knew his time was
coming, but he had one last surprise for me.
"I would be honored if you told
me how. So much time has
passed, give me closure brother." 

How could I not grant this
request? My mind drifted back to a time where my
mind and body
were troubled, before I found Sargas and the discipline that
I
was trying to master. "It happened because of you. You were
successful, big
strong. I was always the runt, still am among our
kind. The abuse that
rained down on me gave me the strength to
strike back. So in the end I must
thank you." This brought a
smile to both of us, for although there had been
much between us,
the blood that flowed in my veins was the same as his that
was
spilling onto the deck. That would never change no matter
what
happened.

I was about to speak again when I saw that his
smile was etched on his face,
his eyes glassed over. I prayed to
Sargas for safety of his spirit. My own
mind was chaotic and the
memories of my own exile and training came back.
Being short and
thin had given me nothing but grief and so I fled to the
own
sanctuary I had left, the temple of sargas. We were all equal
under that
roof, and the training they gave was to prepare us to
serve in a world of
chaos and hate. This trip was the first since
I completed my training and
yet I had failed before I reached my
destination. 

Memories raced forward to a couple days ago, when
I had returned to the real
world, heading to the harbour and my
brothers boat. A hood kept my face in
shadows as I boarded, my
brother staring at me quizzically, not quite
understanding who I
was. I must admit my blood runs hot and I don't forgive
easily
and so I thought my final cut from my family was to cross the
blood
sea with my brother none the wiser, although fate had other
ideas. Again my
memories raced forward to just an hour ago when
we were attacked and boarded
by raiders. Racing to the deck,
wearing only my breeches, my eyes red with
bloodrage. They were
not skilled but they were many and we cut through most
of their
lines like a scythe to wheat. I ended up fighting back to back
with
a minotaur. We turned to face eachother and it was my
brother, his face one
of shock, his mace held in the air above my
head. The shock was replaced by
agony only a moment later as he
fell into my arms. The axe buried into his
back spelled his doom
as the raiders were being driven back. I layed him
gently down
and shed a tear for the times I've lost due my temper. 

My mind
raced forward to the present, as the fading sounds of battle rang
in
my ears. The first officer's shadow passed over me and I
looked up at him.
"We need to get moving, I'm sorry for your
loss. He was a good captain". "He
was a good brother" I
replied. My journey to Ansalon continued. The disciple
of the
lord of Vengeance was coming. 

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 869 storytellers on Ansalon pen their epic stories here for all to read.'