The Great Library of Palanthas
An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.
Stories of Ansalon from the view of Lars.
A little gully dwarf runs by and says 'Wordwrap Off 65 80.'
The gully continues 'Want color back? Turn Color Back ON!!
Astinus says 'Enter the main library here to view only the author list.'
Astinus gently places a heavy platinum-covered book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Lars' scribed in brilliant orange ink.
Author: Lars Date: Wed Dec 17 08:55:19 2008 Subject Lars Ognash Lars stood against the wall - a blank stare across the arena. His opponent, a puny dwarf, stared back at him from the other side. As the flag fell, Lars had already begun to move towards his opponent. His mind was clear...it was always clear. All he thought was the task at hand. All that mattered was the money. The dwarf, seeing a 7'8" minotaur coming at him, began to step back. As Lars moved within reach the dwarf tripped over a stone in the dirt and fell on his back. At this moment Lars thought to himself, "Why would anyone put this puny dwarf against me.." As the dwarf fell, Lars spoke some some quick words softly to himself and grabbed the dwarf's leg. The dwarf yelled in agony as Lars clutched is stubby legs and begin to lift him into the air. He held the dwarf upside down, his other leg kicking the empty space, and unsheathed his blade. He glared straight ahead just before delivering the dwarf from his worldly body and sending him back to his creator. He dropped corpse and lowered his head and spoke softly to himself... "For you Lady of Darkness... for the strength you have given me over my opponent... I make this offering." Lars raised his head and, without looking at a single person in the crowd, moved and exited the arena. He headed straight back to the tavern to collect his winnings. Lars counted the coin and left as swiftly as he had arrived. He was off to find the next opponent - the next mark. As it turned out, the dwarf wasn't just an opponent but a foe of the drunk in the tavern. For Lars, this is all he knew. This is what he did...and did it well. Author: Lars Date: Wed Aug 11 12:14:25 2010 Subject Memoirs of a Kender Yes Lars?", Miss Foxglove had been annoyed at him all day. "Can we go out to battlefield ruins today?" "No!! I have told you this 4 times today already, and I will not answer that question again." Lars' wanderlust had come at a much younger age then the rest of the young ones in his class, prehaps earlier than any kender in all of Kendermore. A "normal" kender, if there is such a thing, has a irresistible desire to wander the cities and countryside in search of... anything they can "find". Lars already possessed a number of holding pouches, but none were as fascinating as the one he is holding for his fathers brother. He acquired it when his uncle was visiting his parents for a time back in the summer, while he was rummaging through the man's backpack. He waited until they were completly passed out in the wee hours of the morning when he began his search for what he called trinkets. After close examination of the contents, and much thought as to what he'd keep for himself, there were only a few item remaining in the pack when he came across the Patchwork pouch and a small carved figurine. He tried numeous times to untie the pouch but the leather straps securing the knot heldfast against his prying fingers. He rushed and put everything back into the pack, except for what he kept for himself. Among the things he kept, a Patchwork pouch, small jade figurine of an unknown woman, leather-bound journal, bone flute, and a toothpick sized dagger. He took all the item and burried them in the yard where no one would suspect to look for the 'lost' items. His uncle never mentioned the items, or the disarrayed backpack, but Lars thinks he knows what happened to them. After only a few days of keeping the items hidden from everyone, he digs them up. "Son, where did those trinkets come from," his father ask him one evening after a meal. "I been holding paps, gnome friend at school was afraid someone might try to steal them, so he gave em' to me to keep safe." His father looked at him strangly but kept silent and took another drink of ale. To be continued...
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
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