The Great Library of Palanthas
An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.
Stories of Ansalon from the view of Lorcan.
A little gully dwarf runs by and says 'Wordwrap is at 80. 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 small volume on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Lorcan' scribed in vibrant yellow ink.
Author: Lorcan Date: Tue Dec 2 02:11:49 2008 Subject Lorcan uth Dukar Lorcan was raised at a small Solamnic outpost in the Vingaard mountains, the son of a Solamnic knight and a local noblewoman. His mother is a descendant of Lord Dukar, honored blacksmith of the Solamnic knights. As a young child, Lorcan showed an affinity to the clerical arts, and was placed under the tutelage of the Solamnic cleric stationed at the outpost. As a young man, he put what he had learned to use when shadow cultists infiltrated the outpost and contaminated the food and water supply with plague. Men were dispatched on horseback to seek help from Vingaard, but were quickly slain by cultist road agents. Lorcan watched as his mother, as well as many other people who he knew and loved, succumb to the plague and its horrifying effects. He helped to tend to them the best he could, but there was little he and his tutor could do with such limited resources. By the end of the first week of the cultist siege, half the population of the outpost lay dead. His grief-stricken father and the remaining knights at the outpost rode out into the wild in a last-ditch attempt to defeat the cultists. They never returned. Stubborn as only a young man could be, Lorcan had been adamant that he would ride out with his father to avenge the death of his mother. However, after his father appeared to relent and said he would allow it, he was knocked unconscious from behind shortly before the men were to ride out. He awoke in an outpost cellar that was boarded up from the outside, and found himself amongst a stock of uncontaminated food and drink. His pounding on the cellar door and screaming elicited no response from the other side, and it wasn't long before he gave up hope. He passed his time with meditation and breathing exercises that the outpost cleric had taught him, and he ate and drank frugally. There was no way for him to tell whether it was night or day, or how much time had passed, but it seemed to him an eternity before he heard the voices of men from above the cellar door. The men who let him out were Knights of Solamnia, a band that had ridden from Vingaard to investigate after there had been no communication for weeks. As Lorcan was led out into the sunlight, he could see through squinted and tearing eyes that the knights were tossing bodies into a firepit. One knight laid a mailed glove on his shoulder and with a sad gaze told him that the cremations were necessary, and that no one else had survived. He rode with the knights to Vingaard where he found shelter with his mother's noble relatives, whom he had never met. He soon discovered that his mother was quite estranged from her family. Even though they gave him a place to stay in the interim, they treated him quite coldly and made clear that the arrangement was to be temporary, and that he was on his own. Several days passed, and after gaining a stamped letter from his mother's brother affirming that he is indeed of noble blood and a descendant of Dukar the Smith, Lorcan bought a limping saddle horse off a one-armed dwarf with the last of his gold and struck out for Palanthas - to enlist with the Knights of Solamnia.
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 868 storytellers on Ansalon pen their epic stories here for all to read.'
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