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 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 gorgious hardback on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Lars' scribed in dull blue 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

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