An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Lienkai.

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 an enormous book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Lienkai' scribed in black ink.

Author:  Lienkai
Date    Sat Aug 21 19:37:35 1999



Subject  The Ones Who Are Left Behind



As Solinari and Lunitari began their decent into the dawn,
Lienkai
stood on the deck of the Orlouge, her back towards the city of
Palanthas.  The ship itself was like a ghost ship, bobbing
silently
next to Illythorak's Porthouse.  The deck still bore the marks of
cruel fate, stains which would never be truely erased from the
ship.
Though the dead members of the crew had been laid to rest
properly,
their ghosts still haunted the thoughts of their friends.

Lin had been standing unmoving for hours, cursing each of the
gods
in turn for events which had taken the lives of her companions
and
made the Orlouge a threat to the safety of Palanthas in the eyes
of some.  She felt as though she could still here the jeers of
the
crowd which gathered outside the Rusty Rudder, demanding that the
Orlouge be scuttled and the remaining crew members be treated as
dangers to society.  The Rudder hadn't been opened today, and Lin
wasn't sure that she would ever be able to go back, knowing that
the blood of her Captain stained the very ground itself there.

Eventually, as the sun began to brighten the sky to a dull grey,
Lienkai turned away from the horizon, and silently appraised the
Orlouge.  She ran her hands over the surfaces of the ship,
admiring its power and beauty as she had many times before.  Upon
reaching the rear of the ship, she suddenly lost her
self-control,
and fell sobbing to the deck, unable to deal with the reality
that
she was among the few left.

Hours later, she awoke, and with tear-streaked face, prepared to
deal with whatever this day brought her.




Author:  Lienkai
Date    Sun Aug 22 03:14:01 1999



Subject  A Reunion of Sorts



---===Kalaman===---

Lockpick continued to gaze into the stars long after Lin fell
asleep,
pondering the constellation of the Orlouge.  His mind was a
torrent of
memories, of the good times back on the Orlouge I, and of life
back in
Sarkin.  So intent was he on these memories, he felt as if
everything
was back to the way it used to be, before people started dying. 
He
sighed at the happy thoughts, and prepared to examine the
contents of
one of Lin's pouches when a hand came down on his shoulder.

'Lockpick...we must talk' said a familiar voice, speaking common
softly
with the accent of a Silvanesti elf.  Lock gasped, and jumped to
his
feet, nearly tripping over Lienkai, and backed away from the
visitor.
It was an elf clad in the white robes of the Conclave, with long
silver
hair flowing over a flawless and youthful face.  Still, something
was
off, mainly the fact that...'You're supposed to be dead!'

Dealis gave out a soft chuckle, and stepped towards her friend. 
'Surely
you of all people know that death does not mean as much as some
make
of it.  What happened in the Khalkists was just the beginning of
another stage of existance.'  She smiled gently at Lockpick, who
suddenly jumped at her and hugged her tightly, his face sad. 
'They've
all gone, Dealis.  All my friends...and Victor...they've all left
me
alone here.'

She stroked the kender's long hair lovingly, and tried to ease
his pain
as best as she could.  Finally, she let him go, and crouched down
so
that they were eye to eye.  'Lockpick, I'm not just here to help
you
through this.  There's great things brewing, and you must be
prepared.
The massacre aboard the Orlouge is only the start...'  Dealis
began
to fade into the night, her face appearing sad and more aged. 
'Watch
the south, from the mountains.  Thats where it will come from...'
With that, she disappeared, her voice sad and soft on the winds
of the
sea.

--=== ===--



Author:  Lienkai
Date    Sun Aug 22 04:14:01 1999


Subject  The Ties of Magic and Family (part 1)




As Lockpick and Lienkai met with their friends from beyond the
grave,
another reunion of sorts was taking place across the world, in a
small cabin in the outskirts of the Khalkist Mountains.  This
cabin
had been deserted for years, its small garden overgrown, and the
metal fitting rusted shut.  Yet, suddenly an aging man appeared
inside, his spectral body disturbing nothing.  He looked fondly
around his old home, until something caught his eye.  The book
which
he never again dreamed he'd see lay open on the desk, with a new
chapter he had never seen written in.  He sat down in his
favorite
chair, and began reading.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The world goes on, in this new age.  Heroes of the last are near
forgotten now, just stories told by old men in taverns.  Tales of
woe, of joy, tales of life in a town where peace was an illusion
never to be reached.  It is in these new times that I offer you a
story of love, betrayal, regret, and redemption.  I offer you the
story of Dealis.

--Thiena Thunderboro, Student Magus

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

No one can say where the story begins, but it keeps returning to
a
forgotten land, a place of mountains and desert.  It is in this
land
where a fleeing elf collapsed from exhaustion in a strangers
garden. 
Here, a young mage collapsed from thirst, not knowing that her
salvation was at hand.  This is the land of a duel of hate and
lost
love, which cost one man his body, another his soul.  It is here
that
all the tangents meet.  The events of this time started with a
father
and son, walking the burning sands.

"Damn this infernal son!  At this rate, we will never reach the
end
of this cursed desert," Davisson muttered, spitting the words
with a
contempt for life in general.  They had been traveling for weeks,
and
it seemed that the further they got from Sarkin, the slower they
traveled.  It infuriated Davisson all the more that while his
rage at
the land grew with each passing day, his son and travel partner
seemed to sink even more into quiet contemplation.  He looked at
his
son with a mixture of love and disgust, barely believing the the
fruit of his loins was this quiet, introspective lad.  At last,
unable to bear the silence, he spoke again.  "Damn it boy, why
are
you moping.  You're free of that wench, and on the road again. 
What
else is there?"

Startled from his thoughts, Geland looked at his father with his
deep
violet eyes, a gift from the mother who weighed heavily on his
thoughts.  "Its nothing, Father.  I am just trying to remember
the
map of this area I saw once.  We should be out of the desert
soon, if
I recall," he lied, hoping to end the conversation and go back to
his
personal thoughts.  As they drew closer to their mysterious
destination, he couldn't help but wonder why they had to sneak
away
from Sarkin, under cover of night.  Something was amiss, and he
couldn't place a finger on it.

With Geland quiet again, Davisson went back to wondering why he
felt
so compelled to cross this desert.  Must be a whim, he thought
with a
inward smile.  He was startled when another voice in his mind
replied, "No, it is destiny that guides you."

Deep in their own thoughts and worlds, the pair continued through
the desert,
unaware that the end of all their struggles was approaching.



Author:  Lienkai
Date    Sun Aug 22 05:14:01 1999


Subject  The Ties of Magic and Family (part 2)





Dealis stood at the top of the Tower of Wayreth, bored of the
endless
studies that consisted of her life now.  Valeriah and Xyandra
were
off somewhere, and even Vortex was missing.  Dealis longed to be
in
Solace, walking the trees in peace, but she had been neglecting
these
scrolls since she retired.  With a sigh, she leaned against her
staff, watching the gentle swaying of the magical limbs for a
while
longer, trying to forget her woes.
 
At last, she uttered a few words, and was in her study, ready to
copy
more scrolls into another white bound spellbook.  She was about
to
slump tiredly into her chair, when a new scroll caught her eye. 
This
one was freshly written, not yellowed like the others.  She
picked it
up, and unraveled it, expecting to see a scroll of acid blast, or
some other nonsense that an apprentice wanted her approval of. 
To
her surprise, it was not magical, but a message:

D-
I have reason to believe that Geland is in danger
from his father.  I cannot elaborate for lack of
time, but you are needed.  I know you do not trust
me, but have faith.  Wait at the spot where you
almost lost it all, and everything will become
clear.

The message was signed with only a symbol, one Dealis had not
seen in
many years, since a game of chance stripped her of her
belongings. 
She put the letter back on her desk, and turned to gaze out the
window at the setting sun.  "It has to be a trap," she muttered
to
herself.  "The last of that clan died years ago.  But still...how
did
this get here?"  Preoccupied with her own thoughts, she didn't
notice that
she was no longer alone in the room.  A dark shadow stood behind
her, looking
sadly at the old elf.  With an audible *pop*, the figure
disappeared,
startling Dealis.

"Who dares disturb me?" she demanded, looking for the rude
apprentice
who barged in.  Oddly, there was no one there, just a large
parcel on
her desk, wrapped loosely in parchment.  Cautiously, she cast a
spell
of magical detection, looking for a hint of who was in here.  To
her
surprise, the package didn't even begin to flicker.  Upon closer
examination, there was a note attached to the front of the
parcel, in
the same handwriting as the scroll:

Hurry, there is not much time left.  Take this, it
should help.

Dealis carefully removed the parchment, revealing a large
spellbook,
bound in rich green leather, with runes carved into the front. 
At
the sight of it, Dealis cried out and had to lean on her staff
for
support.  When her strength began to return, she hurriedly
prepared
for a magical duel, one which would end in utter annihilation.

On the words of a spell, Dealis suddenly vanished, flying on
wings of
magic into a world she hoped to leave in the past.




Author:  Lienkai
Date    Sun Aug 22 06:14:01 1999


Subject  The Ties of Magic and Family (part 3)




Geland sighed, and slipped off his pack as he sat down on a rock.

The sun was almost gone from the horizon, only leaving a red
light
which fell across the bleak terrain like blood.  Davisson had
ordered
a brief camp to be set, so that he could get his bearings and
they
could have a little supper.  Both moons were to be bright that
night,
and they would travel long into the night.  For now, Geland was
content to rest, and spent time alone with his thoughts.

As usual, his thoughts came to rest on his mother.  She was such
a
contrasting woman, and Geland had never made a real effort to
know
her or love her.  Of course, that was because she was cold to
him, a
child of a relationship she didn't want.  When she took the black
robes, it got worse, immeasurably.  That's when he fled, to find
himself elsewhere, anywhere but the confines of Sarkin.  Yet,
even in
the wilderness family stifled him, for his father took over his
education.

To this date, Geland was unsure of how his father caught up to
him,
looking for peace in the forests of Zahn.  Regardless, it was the
beginning of a new time, a new way of life.  Daily sessions in
tracking, hunting, and swordsmanship, and nightly stories of life
in
Tarsis.  It was almost idyllic, where it not for the nagging
thoughts
of abandoning his mother, and the odd quirks his father showed in
moments of weakness.  There was always an undertone of darkness
in
those years, of something that seemed read to break out at any
time.

As Geland was pondering his life, he had unwittingly drawn his
sword
from his sheath, and was starting to sharpen it.  This sword,
this
was something special, the blade of his grandfather, the
battlemage
Solamarus.  With the blade, many were slain in the name of
Takhisis. 
With this blade, Dealis was scarred for life, and given an
infernal
wound that would cause eternal pain.  Of all the blades in the
world,
this is the one given to him by his father, the one which had
caused
the most harm to his mother.  Geland could feel the rift forming
between his parents, and himself caught in the middle.

Suddenly, Geland felt an incredible surge of anger towards his
father.  This anger was crippling in mind, and empowering in
body,
driving him silently towards his father, blade ready.  It was if
someone else was controlling him, inspiring him to strike down
his
father, and he was powerless to stop it.  Geland put forth all
the
power of his will, and only managed to utter a quiet warning
before
he plunged the cursed blade into his father's spine.

The cry of pain was incredible, and Geland fell, knees weak, to
the
ground, begging the gods to not let Father die.  His eyes on the
ground, Geland did not notice the smoke coming from his father's
wound, which was advancing on him.  Only as he breathed in the
evil
power did he realize that he had been used all along.  His last
thoughts were, "Mother, save me," as he drifted into the sleep of
the
dead, his body now a vessel of evil.

The boy with the spirit of a demon slowly got up, and retrieved
his
sword.  He looked briefly at the prone body of Davisson, still
clutching the map he had been reading, and then marched along. 
He
had an appointment to keep, with his 'favorite' daughter.



Author:  Lienkai
Date    Sun Aug 22 07:14:01 1999


Subject  The Ties of Magic and Family (part 4)




The sun was long gone now, and Lunitari was left to light the
world,
tinting the world with her blood red light.  The mountains at the
edge of the wastelands reflected this hue well, creating the
effect
of a mountains of bloody flesh, as if the result of some hideous
war. 
While this unsettled many, it had no effect on the woman who
stood on
the highest peak now, her robes becoming pinkish in this light. 
She
stood facing the west, watching a man climb the trail that would
take
him to her, and to one of their dooms.

As the man reached the summit, his face was obscured by the
darkness,
as was his armor, giving him an air of living shadow.  The mage
stood 
still, observing him in the darkness as only an elf can, before
calling out. 
"Father!," Dealis cried, "Your games are over.  Leave this plane
now,
before I have to force you to."  As if to emphasize her words, a
bolt
of lightning shot from her hand, and struck the ground before the
figure, illuminating him briefly.

"Surprise Mother," Geland sneered, delighting in the shocked look
on
his mother's face.  "Or is it daughter?  With all this body
hopping,
relations get so screwed up.  It was worth it, though, to create
this, the perfect body.  Youthful, powerful, and there's even a
touch
of magic from dear old mom.  Oh, and what was that you said about
forcing?"  Geland suddenly leapt forward, bringing his sword down
in
a deadly arc, aiming for disembowelment.  Dealis dodged clumsily,
and
blade only nicked the flesh of her hip slightly.  "First blood,"
Geland chuckled. "I believe the advantage is mine."

Thus began a mighty battle, sword against magical staff, spell
against spell.  Solinari had risen by this time, overpowering
Lunitari with his pure light, as if to aid his disciple.  Atop
the
mountain, Dealis was fighting a losing battle.  Bleeding from
many
wounds, she was fast running out of offensive spells, and was
being
forced more and more to take a defensive approach.  Geland's
onslaught was horrendous, mixing over 300 years of sword training
with the dark spells of Takhisis.  It was only a matter of time
before he prevailed.

Suddenly, Dealis make a sweep with her staff, knocking Geland to
a
safe distance away.  She looked sadly upon the body of her son,
filled with the soul of Solamarus.  There was only one way to end
this, one way to make the world safe from them all.  She bowed
her
head, and uttered the words she had memorized such a short time
ago,
from the spellbook of her long dead tutor.  For her, time stopped
at
that moment, as a pure white light seemed to be emitted from her
body.  She did not even feel it as the blade cut through her
neck, as
at the moment the spell was cast, she was with both Davisson and
Geland, the men she had loved and longed for all these years.

Dealis's final spell released every last bit of magic she had in
her
upon the land, completely obliterating the landscape for over a
mile,
and burning it for another mile.  No traces of Geland were ever
found.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=



Author:  Lienkai
Date    Sun Aug 22 08:14:01 1999


Subject  The Ties of Magic and Family (epilogue)




A black figure stood near where Dealis had given her life,
watching
over the world with empty grey eyes.  Suddenly, it was aware that
another form was near, one that needed no physical form.  Wiping
its
mind clear of all former-human emotions and thought, it addressed
its
superior.  "It is done, Lord Zoneseek.  Are you sure all that was
really necessary to get rid of an aging mage?"

The unseen presence responded without moving, disturbing nothing.

"It was not just for the woman I arranged this.  Both the boy and
that spirit had more power than I wished to deal with.  Their
knowledge is gone now, and after tonight, very few threats shall
exist against my plans."  The presence seemed to almost laugh,
though
it was impossible to say for sure.

"What is so special about tonight, my lord?," the figure
responded,
trying to piece together the mysterious way Zoneseek had of
speaking. 
"Do you need me to return to Sarkin for something?  Or perhaps
Solace?"

"No no, my dear.  What will happen tonight is not of my doing. 
The
gods of this world will face a new threat, and it will cost many
mortal lives.  It is best if we return to the Gray for now."

"Yes my lord," the figure responded, preparing to return to her
new
home.  "Will you be needing my services again anytime soon?"  The
enigmatic figure was hopeful, for it enjoyed spending time among
the
people she was once one of.

"Thiena, my dear, you are really quite eager.  But yes, there is
something you are perfect for, an infiltration...."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Geland sat for hours, contemplating what he had just read, and
what
it could mean in the current situation.  Finally, he stood, and
prepared to leave this place.  He looked thoughtfully at the
book,
and thumbed through the remaining pages of the seemingly endless
volume.  Sighing, he stretched, and prepared to return to his
post,
so that he could discuss this with his two companions. 
"Regardless,"
he muttered as he faded from site, "our story ends soon.  The
book
shall finally be completed...."






Author:  Lienkai
Date    Wed Aug 25 07:22:24 1999



Subject  The Book of the Wastelands



Were one to enter the cartographer's store in Gwynned, they would
find a beaten looking book for sale, hardly noticeable among the
fancier atlases for sale.  On the inside cover of this book was a
small note, not even a proper title: "The Journeys of Davis
Taliwright, and maps of the Plains of Dust".  Even the proprietor
of
the story did not know the true value of this volume, having
acquired
in a batch of books sold at an auction.

If one were to flip through the first half of the book, they
would
find expert maps of the Plains of Dust, as well as notations on
where
good camping locations were, and phrases that would be helpful in
dealing with the local barbarian tribes.  While standard fair for
a
travel guide, this book contained more information than any had
ever
expected their to be on the vast tundra.

Even then, the true gem of the book has yet to be uncovered. 
Near
end of the book, the narrative stops in mid-explanation of how to
survive in the foothills of the Khalkist Mountains, and
underneath is
written this phrase:

I have seen the Abyss in this land.  Dear Sirrion, how did this
happen?!

The next few dozen pages are covered in ink spots, as if he had
started to write something, and then stopped.  Finally, the book
begins again, giving a description of a land no man has ever
returned
from.

"What was once a rocky valley is now a barren wasteland for
miles,
where not even the hardiest of plant or animal survives.  The
land
is only empty, and somehow sorrowful.  Every step I take compels
me to weep for whatever caused this.  I no longer desire to be
here,
but I am drawn in further and further.  At night, a brilliant
blue
shines on the horizon, and I must see it.

"I know where I am now, I know I have been here before.  This is
where I found him, my dear son, burned and broken.  Then, though,
the lifelessness wasn't so bad.  Its as if a plague has infected
the
land.  There is nothing, only the rise and fall of smooth and
bleak
grey.  The moons themselves do not shine over this land at night,
and
the stars seem fainter than ever.  Yet, I still journey on.  This
will be the death of me."

The next few pages are filled with sketches of bleak hills, and
featurless landscapes.  Finally, there is a sketch of a
indentation
in the land, from the center of which a large jet of what appears
to
be flame errupts.  Underneath it is written the last words in the
book:
"The last Portal has been opened...the passage is
cleared...Sirrion take us all..."






Author:  Lienkai
Date    Thu Jun  3 19:28:23 2004



Subject  A Difficult Decision



================================================== 
][ The Rusty Rudder Tavern - Palanthas Harbor ][
================================================== 
The first light of the sun crested the Vingaard Mountains,
sending glimmers of
gold across the Bay of Branchala.  The grey hulls of the moored
ships took on
a brilliant color, though few on the docks took notice of such a
site.  As
with every morning, there was a flurry of activity as the
arrivals of the past
night began to offload cargo and crew.  A din of conversation,
curses, and
friendly insults assailed the ears of the patrolling Solamnic
knights as the
diligently looked for Rogue infiltrators attempting to damage the
cargo.

They may have been surprised to know that one such infiltrator
was currently
about 100 yards away, wiping down the tables of her tavern as
morning sun
filtered through dirty windows.  Stifling a yawn, Lienkai
finished the last
table and threw her rag on the bar; it was almost time for the
first sailors
to come in looking for a hot breakfast or some hair of the dog. 
"Nothing
like a few eggs, some bacon, and dwarf spirits," she muttered
as she hurried
into the kitchen to check the fire.  Satisfied with the heat, she
placed a
large iron skillet carrying a rasher of bacon on to fry.

As the meat began to sizzle, she returned to the common room. 
The letter was
still on the bar where she had left it, sealed with wax and the
crest she'd
created for herself years ago.  Lienkai had been up since closing
working on
it, trying to get it just right.  Twice she almost gave up on it
and tossed it
into the kitchen grate, but there it was now.  "I just don't
belong
there," she said quietly, touching a golden bead engraved with
a griffon's
wing she wore in her hair.  "My heart's in a different place
these days."

"Boy!" she suddenly yelled, grabbing a small pouch from her
belt and
tossing it next to the letter.  A young human rushed in from the
back room,
another rag tossed over his shoulder.  "Take this letter and
bag to the
Stormchaser," she ordered, slapping down a steel piece on the
bar. 
"You'll find it near the ferry."  The boy nodded and scooped
up the money,
letter, and bag before rushing out the door.  Lienkai sighed as
he left, then
went to check on the bacon.  "My time with Rogue has ended,"
she said to
herself.  It didn't sound too bad, actually.



Author:  Lienkai
Date    Tue Apr 19 20:46:32 2005
Stamp   1113961592
Subject  An Oral History (Part I)


"I dont know why you want to hear my story, but I suppose I can
tell you a
little bit about myself.  Names Lienkai Nostraus, of the Flotsam 
Nostraus.  Thats really a bit of a joke, though.  My parents were
no
better off then any in Flotsam, just a dockhand and a barmaid
trying to
make a living.  You can imagine the type of childhood I had if
youve ever
been to that mass of wreckage they call a town.  I was getting
antsy to run
away from home by the time I turned seven and at thirteen I
managed to
successfully stow away on a merchant vessel.  Successful meaning
that they
didnt discover me before they were too far away from land to toss
me
overboard, of course."

"I traveled from port to port on different ships, hiring on as a
hand when
I could and stowing away when I couldnt.  I learned the trade
quickly and
soon was as able as could be expected from one barely into her
teenage
years.  Though there were offers, I never stayed on a single ship
too long;
there were certain risks to a young girl on her own that I felt
were kept
lower if I only traveled on certain kinds of ships and never
stayed too
long.  The less familiarity and comfort a crew had with me, the
better.  Of
course, I was young, foolish, and a little naive; it wasnt long
until my
judgement failed me and I ended up on a ship Id have wanted no
part of."

"From the dock, the ship had looked respectable enough: clean
hull, clear
markings, and a professional looking crew.  I knew they werent
hiring on,
that much Id gleaned from the harbormaster earlier in the day. 
They were
bound for Kalaman, a favorite city of mine, and I figured thered
be no
harm in stowing away for the trip.  With the practiced ease that
comes of
two years of experience I managed to sneak aboard and took up a
spot in the
cargo hold away from prying eyes.  Hours passed, and we were
underway.
Confident in my hiding place, I allowed myself what should have
been a
quick nap.  It was only when a swift, firm jab to the abdomen
left me
gasping for breath that I realized I may have over slept
slightly."

"I was slapped into a pair of manacles and hauled above deck
before I'd
even managed to shake all of the sleep from my eyes.  Turns out
the
respectable ship I tried to hide aboard was a well-disguised
pirate vessel. 
I have to say that it was the first time in my life I was
actually
terrified.  Thankfully, the first mate of the ship came to my
rescue before
any of the crew got to have their fun with me.  The first mate, a
rather
ugly woman with a vicious temper, figured that I'd be of more
value as
slave labor then an afternoon's enjoyment."



Author:  Lienkai
Date    Tue Apr 19 20:47:17 2005
Stamp   1113961637
Subject  An Oral History (Part II)


"The first year was terrible.  I was underfed, overworked, and
(the worst
in my mind) underutilized.  They didn't trust me with any of the
actual
sailing or pirating activities and kept me cleaning, cooking, and
moving
cargo.  When the ship docked, I was kept chained in a secret
section of the
cargo hold used to store plunder.  I often thought that throwing
myself
into the sea and letting Zeboim decide what to do with me was a
better
alternative to living a slave.  I guess the Lady of the Sea
decided I'd be
a better sailor than swimmer, because it wasn't long after those
thoughts
started that she sent me an opportunity."

"The storm caught the crew unprepared and several hands were
thrown
overboard by the incredible winds.  There was no time to rescue
them; every
one else was too involved in keeping the ship afloat and in one
piece.  I
helped out wherever I could, getting the sails lowered and
manning the
pumps.  When the storm finally blew past, eight men had lost
their lives. 
In recognition of my efforts, I was selected to replace one of
them.  My
life as a pirate had finally begun."

"Over the next year, I learned a great deal about sailing,
diplomacy,
intimidation, sword fighting, treasure, and languages.  Turned
out I had a
special gift for learning the various languages of the sea-faring
people of
Ansalon.  When we docked to sell our ill-gotten booty I was often
part of
the group sent out to negotiate the best prices.  I also took to
the sword,
once a suitable blade was found for me.  I had a hard time
wielding the
heavy cutlasses the crew favored so I started trying lighter
blades that
would let my dexterity make up for my lack of strength."

"I celebrated my seventeenth birthday as a member of a pirate
crew and was
well on my way to my eighteenth before I began to feel guilty
about my
actions.  I'd known that I was involved with something immoral
the entire
time, of course, but the excitement had overwhelmed the sense of
shame.  As
pirating became more and more routine for me, the guilt began to
become
more then I could handle.  After more than two and a half years
aboard the
ship, I finally couldn't take it anymore. When the ship docked in
the port
of New Thalos I fled into the night."



Author:  Lienkai
Date    Tue Apr 19 20:48:11 2005
Stamp   1113961691
Subject  An Oral History (Part III)


"For the first few weeks, I traveled blindly.  I spent a few
nights in the
town of Sarkin looking for a job and shelter, but something about
the area
didn't feel right.  I traveled further from the see until I found
the
village of Ofcol.  A small farming community, the biggest thing
that Ofcol
had going for it was that the main road passed within sight of
their small
mercantile area.  I ended up waiting tables and tending bar at a
small
establishment known as "The Grubby Inn".  The pay was terrible,
the ale
watered, but it was the first honest work I'd done in ages."

"All told, I stayed in Ofcol for about two years.  Land life, it
turns out,
can only keep my interest for so long.  I missed the sea and was
eager to
try my hand at sailing now that I was older and wiser.  After
packing my
meager possessions and saying good-bye to the few acquaintances I
had made
I headed towards the port of New Thalos to charter passage to
Flotsam.  It
had been years since I saw my parents and it wasn't long before I
remembered why.  I was in Flotsam less than a week before signing
onto the
first promising ship sailing into the Blood Sea."

"Eight ships and nearly ten years later, I found myself in
Palanthas after
a rather profitable position aboard a trading vessel.  I didn't
have any
particular plans for what came next, I just knew that there were
some books
on the Dargonesti language that I had tracked down to Astinus'
Great
Library.  I figured I'd rent a room for a few weeks and enjoy
what was left
of a very mild summer in the splendor of Palanthas.  Hell, that
plan even
lasted a whole week before a rather exciting opportunity came up
- Lockpick
C. Tumbleweed reentered my life."

"While I was still working in Ofcol, one of the few travelers we
saw
multiple times was a kender by the name of Lockpick C.
Tumbleweed.  I'd
spent a night or two chatting away with him over the years and at
one point
in time he offered to introduce me to the captain of a ship known
as the
Orlouge.  Still burned out from my time aboard a pirate vessel, I
turned
him down.  Now, years later, Lockpick was still aboard the
Orlouge III (the
first was a casualty of war, the second a casualty of a kender
navigator
and an iceberg) and was still willing to introduce me to it's
captain. 
These days it was Sansagroth, one of the few civilized Thanoi
I've ever
met.  Two days later, I'd signed aboard as a translator and was
back at
sea."



Author:  Lienkai
Date    Tue Apr 19 20:49:04 2005
Stamp   1113961744
Subject  An Oral History (Part IV)


"I'd rather not recount my whole time on the Orlouge, as it
brings back a
lot of memories of companions long gone.  I lived on that ship
for three
years, eventually becoming the first mate shortly after Cap'n
Sansagroth
met his tragic end.  It was barely two months after that incident
I
resigned my own commission and set off on my own.  Despite a
small incident
with a heretical priest named Vargas and his minions, I spent
most of the
next year relaxing and making plans for the future.  I returned
to
Palanthas shortly after Yule and finished the renovations on a
small tavern
I'd bought just off of the Palanthas harbor.  Once the Rusty
Rudder was
operating smoothly, I took a position on the Vanderkaum, a
merchant vessel
whose crew I was friendly with from my time on the Orlouge."

"It was about this time that I started researching the teaching
of Shinare. 
I'd always felt a kinship to the Lady of Industry and now that I
was
successful I hoped to be able to further her cause in the world. 
I used my
money from the Vanderkaum to renovate and expand the Rudder, and
then used
the profits from the Rudder to help in the community wherever
possible.  I
proposed new trade routes to the crew of the Vanderkaum that made
much
better use of our time and resources.  Eventually, I was given
the position
of captain and sole discretion in the business dealings of the
entire ship. 
Confident that I'd mastered the world of mundane business, I grew
reckless
in my investments and began to ignore the tenets of Shinare. 
High-risk,
high profit - that's what I wanted.  And that's how I sank the
Vanderkaum."

"The details of how I sank my precious ship are for another time,
but I was
ruined spiritually, emotionally, and financially.  I fled
Palanthas and
tried my hand at other jobs for a while.  During that time, I was
attempted
mercenary work, teaching, translating ancient texts, and even
briefly
considered becoming a cleric.  I finally rolled back into
Palanthas and
resumed full operation of the Rudder; enough time had passed that
the old
memories weren't so bad.  I tried signing up with various
organizations,
looking for that camaraderie I had aboard the Orlouge and
Vanderkaum, but
nothing was able to fulfill me on the same level.  The only group
that came
close I found myself forced to leave due to ideological
differences."



Author:  Lienkai
Date    Tue Apr 19 20:54:27 2005
Stamp   1113962067
Subject  An Oral History (Epilogue)


"So that's where I'm at these days.  The Rudder's doing well, but
I'm still
looking for something else," said Lienkai in the coarse language
of the
Minotaurs.  Across the table from her, a burly minotaur sailor
nodded
before finishing the rest of his tankard in a single pull. 
Lienkai's own
mug of grog sat barely touched on the table.  After years of fine
ale, it
was going to take awhile to regain the taste for the powerful and
noxious
brew.

After contemplating his empty mug for a few minutes the minotaur
spoke.
"You're a long way from Palanthas, Miss Nostraus," he said in
unaccented
Common.  "You may have the proper papers to come ashore, but make
no
mistake: you are not welcome on Mithas.  No matter how hard you
try, you
will never fit in with our kind."  Letting out a loud snort, he
grabbed
Lienkai's grog and drained it as well. "So why don't you tell me
what's on
your mind so we can get this done as quickly as possible?  We've
already
wasted too much time with your prattling answer to my simple
question about
your past."

Switching to Common herself, Lienkai stared intently into the
sailor's
bovine eyes.  "I'm here to offer my services to a new captain. 
Tell me
where I can find this Mondraiken and the Orlouge IV."



Author:    Lienkai        
Date:      Tue Oct  3 20:07:03 2006
Subject  Deals - Plenty of Fools

===================================
 ][ The Rusty Rudder, Palanthas ][
===================================

"So I take it the final preparations are to your liking?" Lienkai
asked,
setting a cold mug of Ergothian ale before the cloaked figure. 
The back room of
the Rusty Rudder was deserted except for Lienkai and her guest;
heavy curtains
strung across the walls kept the noise from the common room down
to a low
murmur.  Drawing a mug herself, Lienkai took a place at the
freshly made table,
the scent of barely dry varnish still strong in the air.

"The accommodations of your tavern are fine, as are the passages
on your
property," the figure replied from beneath several layers of
bandages.  The
voice was low and raspy, impossible to identify as male or
female.  A gloved
hand reached for the mug of ale, paused, and then returned to the
folds of the
heavy cloak.  "I am worried about the leaks in the tunnels and
the condition of
the warehouse, but I suppose they will suffice."

Raising her glass in a subtle gesture, Lienkai smiled slightly. 
"To our
partnership," she toasted before draining half the ale.  "The
first ship will be
the Orlouge, I suppose?" asked the strange figure, its mug still
untouched.  "My
contacts tell me you've already signed with Mondraiken and his
bunch.  How many
Orlouges does that make it for you?"

"Three, not that it matters,"  Lienkai retorted before draining
the rest of her
mug.  "Yes, the Orlouge will be first and, per our contract, have
free berthing
in perpetuity.  But you'll get the ships you need in time.  There
are plenty of
fools willing to sell their soul for what you can offer."

"I suppose there are,"  the figure chuckled.  "I was just hoping
that you would
be one of them."  With a groan, the figure rose from its chair
and bowed before
Lin.  "It's time I take my leave of you, Madam Nostraus.  If you
need me, have
your boy deliver your message to the regular place."

Lienkai nodded politely at the figure and watched him exit
through a door
leading far beneath the tavern.  After a few minutes, she reached
across the
table for the still full mug and raised it into the air.  "To the
Mariners of
Krynn," she announced to empty room.  "May we prosper in good
times, weather the
bad times, and never regret how we got where we are!"

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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