An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Malen.

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 dirty book showing much wear on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Malen' scribed in vibrant brown ink.

Author:  Malen
Date    Wed Jan  9 19:31:33 2002


Subject  -=The Call Of Morgion=-



Malen lay asleep in his small cot in the middle of a run-down warehouse in
kalaman, he could not sleep. He coveted sleep yet over the past few days he
had feared it Reoccouring dreams of a strange robed figure came to him
offering him power, he loathed power, but many say that power comes with a
cost.

Power always comes with a cost, a sacrifice, so he resisted the calls of the
beckoning hand of his dream. His ancestors were great warriors of takhisis and
he knew this could be no call from takhisis for he had forsaken all thoughts
of joining that order long long ago due to the fact that his he wanted to
forge his own name in history, he would not be promoted because of his fathers
or grand father's achivements. There for he took up residence With a large and
powerful group of miscriants known as "Rogue" his reputation as an assasin had
in many times preceded him he had even recieved contracts on the lives of
renegades From the Conclave. His hopes of Advancement had peaked and were
looking good But Advancement also has a cost, yes that cost is TIME. He
Strived for Leadership and Power, but it came so slowly at its most prominate
time it would take him a million years to gain the power he craved.

He began to consider the dreams that had come to him,(a cleric knows a
spiritually influenced dream when he dreams one) consider the pros and cons if
you will.

Sacrifice versus Time, Choosing time could mean his dreams would never be
realized in his time, but sacrifice could mean a million things starting with
his ideals and possibly ending in death He chose Sacrifice and that night
while the hand beckoned to him again he accepted, took hold of the hand. A
small hooded figure stepped out of the shaddows that once only a small
beckoning hand reached from the figure approached him and said "I know your
dreams". (Malen)"You certainly do, you are my dreams".

he then preceded to tell malen that his name was morgion bringer of plague and
that he sought to fofill malen's dreams of power if he would devote himself to
the god.

Malen agreed and the figure made a motion with his hands and malen suddenly
broke out in plague sores. His skin was on fire it itched it burned a fever
came with it as if the intense pain were not enough and the dream ended with
him writhing on the floor in convulsions.

For Months Malen disappeared the cause was unknown but it is speculated that
he had joined a cult of morgion in the remains of southern ergoth to learn the
was of the plague.

When he Re-appeared again He was a changed man no longer lively and swift but
dark, solmn, and evil. He joined the holy order, his goals are unknown.


Malen Escu.



Author:  Malen
Date    Wed Feb  6 19:06:03 2002


Subject  Bayne's Punnishment.



Malen and thearn sat and watched their troops training. They talked of how
best to take the city that had seemed to be so far from their grasps, yet so
close.

A horn blew in the Distance, it was thyrix, and soon he had sent a messenger
with a report.

The two nodded and hurried to catch up to thyrix. As it turned out the mage
had detected him and the two (bayne and thyrix) were already plunged into
battle.

The messenger: " Thyrix has caught sight of a traveler, he is alone dons
robes of the conclave." The mage blew fire from his staff bairly missing
thyrix who ducked, rolled aside, and thrust his dagger into the mage's side
bairly missing his vitals.

The mage stagered back droped his dagger and began chanting to himself. Thearn
and i had begun our own spell and soon the mage droped to the ground writhing
in pain before passing out as plague sores uruped over his skin.

Malen to Thearn: "Shall we kill him ?"

Thearn back: "Nay but we must be more careful future though, this could
have ended badly. Besides the plague is a gift, much more worthy than death eh
?"

Thearn to Thyrix and Malen: " Make sure he knows nothing of his location
when he wakes we cannot have him 'squealing'."

They carried the body to a place near the banks of the Vingaard river dumped
it and walked away.


Malen [  Shadow  ]  Arm of Morgion



Author:  Malen
Date    Sun Sep  8 16:57:07 2002


Subject  Message of Destruction




The city of Palanthas a bustling center of comerce and social activity,
today this activity was doubled because of the beautiful weather.

So many people from different walks of life, and exotic lands clouded the
streets. The day was so beautiful that the knights mingled among the people of
the land.

A voice rang out from the crowd "Thief thief ! That man took my purse!"
The large lady shreiked as a small bulging eyed dwarf pushed his way through
a cloud of bodies.

The small dwarf made a dash for the eastern gate before he was tackled by the
regiment of Solamnic knights who was set to patrol the gate and a stout hylar
dwarf who had been following in the theiwar's wake.

While the dwarf was being handcuffed and the purse retured, a man wrapped in a
torn cloak appeared shambling in through the gate and avoiding detection
because of the confusion.

The man knocked on the lead knight's shoulder to which the knight replied
"Not now, wait your turn."The poor man was a mess and he practically
pleaded with the knight for help, on his knees he clasp't the knight's leg.

The knight shook the man's feeble hands off like a childs. Enraged the
scraggly man threw off his cloak revealing bleached white skin which was
strewn with enflamed boils which seemed to double and redouble themselves in
the short amount of time it took him to unbuckle his sword. Placing a hand on
the neck of the lead knight the man wailed hoarsly his eyes, red around the
whites and vicious shot about like flies as he screamed.

The lead knight fell to the floor as plague sores soon began to spread acrost
his body. The cloaked man spat at the solamnics as they converged on him, more
than one falling to the ground tearing off his armor.

The Solamnic company was completly obliterated before they came near him, and
the people began to scatter in all directions. The cloaked man staggered
nearer to the theif who was about to be arrested but stopped his advance as a
white robed cleri c approached stepped through the crowd. The cleric was one
of mishkal's and as he approached the man's cloak begain to grow heavy around
him as it filled with sweat. His eyes darted back and forth as he looked for
an escape rout.

Finding none his eyes grew wide as if he observed death and he fell to the
floor crying and whining like a child. The cleric knelt beside him and asked
"what happned...to you?" The man screamed as the plague threw his body
into convulsions, and he wimpered something inchoherant about "A dark
mist" and the diseased brothers of his caravan which had been carrying a
load of food stuffs from the country to be sold.

As the Cleric of Mishkal considered this the Theiwar theif rose from behind
the poor abomination of a man and plunged his dagger deep into the cloak.

The poor man breathed a final prayer barely audible asking his god for
freedom from his curse in his next life, knowing that it may not be. The
Thiewar escaped through the gates into freedom, knowing that his was still
intact.

Malen (this was about the lowbie quest morgion ran)



Author:  Malen
Date    Thu Dec 26 21:53:51 2002



Subject  Call to The Chosen.



Malen turns restlessly in his bed his face sinks deep into pillow drenched
in his own sweat. Four fruitless nights of sleep, four nights which had
followed four full days of fast and prayer to his chosen god.

The night's sagas before held horrors, and triumphs in his dark god's name.
The first nights dream retold vividly the death of his friend Thearn.

He relived the scene of the executioner's axe falling on the neck of the most
revered cleric of morgion.

In that moment, Morgion's Dream faded as his followers dispersed themselves
acrost the land, forgetting the glories of old and those that could have been,
or siding with armies who's politics undid their efficiency.

The dream continued to recall and recount the faces of those who had lost
their lives to further Morgion's will. The sequence ended with the
dissappearance of Zlik, who was avenged at the cost of war.

Malen, shaken by the rememberance would not sleep that night.

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.'