The Great Library of Palanthas
An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.
Stories of Ansalon from the view of Lisciarant.
A little gully dwarf runs by and says 'Wordwrap 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 pamphlet on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Lisciarant' scribed in dull maroon ink.
Author: Lisciarant Date Sat Apr 30 03:35:52 2005 Stamp 1114850152 Subject The Scent of Darkness The trees provided little shade in the piercing sunlight of mid-summer, the blistering heat beat down upon the dusty path. Lisciarant felt as though his skin was on fire, while he stood at the outside the city of Jelek. He was heading south towards the city of Neraka, overhearing about a certain gathering that was happening there had caught his interest. Though Lisciarant was not sure if this so called gathering would be of any interest to him, he still thought he would make an unnoticed visit. He made a slow pace as he strolled down the path, the sun would soon be fading behind the horizon, allowing him to move much more quickly in the coolness of night. Knowing full well that he verily should not make his appearance known to most persons moving towards the city. The stench of his rotting flesh would alert even those deprived of a sense of smell. His cloak could only cover his deathly appearance, it could not possibly hide it in this threat of hot weather. The gathering itself was not to be held for another week, Lisciarant intended to reach his destination much later. The path of travel had treated him well, as it seems, for he had only wished to reach Neraka with 2 days to spare. Merely to scout the city briefly for the location of the meeting and wait for the proper time. Now he had to move entirely too slow to pass time, and even in doing so he will still have to wait outside the city for at least a day or two. As the sun went down and the light of Solinari and Lunitari shone down, Lisciarant removed his heavy cloak, allowing his dark and tarnished armor to shine in the light of the moons. As he removed his cloak two nightblooming flowers given to him as a symbol of loyalty and servide, opened from their place upon his shoulder. The scent of the amaranth flower mingled with the scent of his mangled flesh, creating a sour sweetness to the air around him. Author: Lisciarant Date Sun May 1 02:34:42 2005 Stamp 1114932882 Subject The Words of Empty Souls (part I) The gathering was set to occur at dusk and the light of day was quickly fading away. Lisciarant was preparing himself to make a quiet visit to this gathering, wrapping the chains attached to his wrists and ankles around his arms and legs, keeping them from constantly jingling as he moved. Taking the chain attached to his unbroken horn and twisting it down around his horn, he was no longer clinking with every step he took. Creeping through the shadows of buildings he arrived near the end of an alley that opened into a large culdesac where a large tent with only 3 sides stood. The open side of the tent faced the alley, the large flaps of the tent held back by thick ropes. No one had yet arrived inside the tent, Lisciarant moved into the outskirts of the culdesac still hidden by the depths of shadows. Lisciarant had only waited a few more minutes before armored men had began to arrive at the tent and form conversations about the meeting. Lisciarant stood quite some distance away, but he could hear everything that was said very clearly. As he suspected it was a meeting that would present itself as interesting to him, but he needed to hear more for it to make it what he is hoping for. Author: Lisciarant Date Tue May 24 03:54:55 2005 Stamp 1116924895 Subject The Words of Empty Souls (part II) Various different soldiers arrived, warriors of no known affiliation as well as robed figures with strange etchings done along the edges. As soon as people stopped arriving two pairs of sentries walked out to the entrance of the culdesac and stood side by side, apparently prepared to bar the entry of anyone else. Lisciarant smiled to himself, amused at the fact that they had no idea he stood within the shadows listening to their every word. Someone inside the tent had begun talking, Lisciarant turned back to his listening and waited for what was being said. The words delved into his mind, he absorbed all that was being said by everyone who spoke. Their words hollow, specious words flowing endlessly, the will of his dark lord pulsing within him he felt as though their words were in need of something. Something more meaningful, eternal. After about an hours time had passed the sentries returned to the tent and most of the various armored and robed people began to leave. Hearing all that he needed to hear, Lisciarant walked along the dark shadows back out into the alley. Reaching the end of the alley he looked up to the star filled sky and saw the constellation of his lord, glowing slightly brighter than the rest. The chains that he had wrapped up fell lightly from their place and began clinking about once more, grinning once more he pulled his cloak about himself and headed in the direction of his deity's temple. Author: Lisciarant Date Thu Jun 2 23:05:37 2005 Stamp 1117771537 Subject The Lord of the Dark The color of day was barely visible from the gates leaving Neraka, the trees framing the distance also obscured it. He had wanted to reach his lords temple before the sun could manage to brighten the land. His cloak fluttered, slightly pulling at the knot tied about his neck, reaching with a shackled hand he gripped the rim of the cloak, pulling it closer about him. His broken shackles clanking about him as he moved, he remembered the day he managed to snap the links that maintained his restraints. As he walked he made a quiet prayer of gratitude to his lord once more, not wanting his great deity to think what he had done for him had been forgotten. He arrived at before the temple doors just as dawn had begun stealing away the calming darkness. Birds could be heard chirping within the trees, animals had started rustling in the underbrush. The dirt underneath his feet was soft, the guardians of the temple were aware of his presence. He walked towards the doors, murmuring the words of allegiance to the lord of the dark in his native tongue, the magically locked doors quietly lowering their barriers so that he could push them open. He lightly ran his fingers over the bright white rams head as he pushed open the door, being granted the blessing of Chemosh...
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.'
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