An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Mephiston.

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 worn book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Mephiston' scribed in light grey ink.

Author:    Mephiston      
Date:      Sat Jan 24
20:15:04 2009
Subject     Honor Bound...

It was a
glorious day. The aromas of blood and sweat permeated the
dusty
air of the Arena, causing my heart to beat at a rapid pace.
My ears filled
with resonating sounds of battle: Axes and
tridents, crashing against
shields, cheers and heckles drowning
out the cries of agonizing pain. The
combatants were winnowing
down to the last. I had a wager on the axe
wielder, which wasnt
looking good. Not that it mattered, after the last raid
upon the
eastern shores of Nordmaar, our purses were fatter than
those
Palantian merchants we feasted upon. They were an
unexpected treat, who
wouldve known the marketplace would have
been flooded by a merchant caravan.
There is no honor in
slaughtering fat merchants; however the armed escort
and city
guard were fair sport. Meanwhile, the trident wielder had
pinned
the axe to the ground. The trident was about to deliver a
deathblow, when
the ax man twisted his torso and lifted his boot
into the stomach of his
foe. Capitalizing on his opponents
debilitating state, the Minotaur swung
his axe full force into
its skull. By Sargas, my fortune couldnt have been
better. Good
portents for the voyage to come, or so I believed. After
the
games and feasting with my crew, we readied our ship for sea.
Loaded
supplies and gave our prayers to Sargas to empower us to
victory. I stopped
by the temple of Zeboim, to give a donation to
appease the sea witch. Fewer
did these days, although the captain
had kept the tradition thus far. If my
memory prevailed he had
promised her much last voyage. With all readied the
ships oars
dipped into the dark waters of the deep harbor. No one
complained
at the short leave given, all needed the fresh air of
the sea. With all
appetites satiated, we set sail for Jotan a
town on the northern shores of
Nordmaar. The voyage around the
blood sea was eventless. Sailing by day;
drinking and gambling by
night. The crews moral was high, myself included. A
days time
from our destination a strange cloud rose ahead of us, like
a
pillar of wind and water. The crew became anxious. The skies
were blue, this
cyclone wasnt natural. My hands gripped the rails
of the ship with ardent
disbelief. One the deck hands rushed to
the Captains quarters. The Captain
stormed out to see the
commotion. His gaze followed that of the crew, to the
east. The
Captains eyes went wide, his maw dropped; I realized by that
look
he had crossed the Sea Witch. My sword left its scabbard
almost of its own.
I gapped the distance in a few short strides,
arm, hand and sword moving as
one, created a gleaming arc of
steel. Sargas did not approve of treachery,
not one bit. The
Captains face almost seemed to soften as his neck was
removed
from shoulders. The cyclone was close now, even if someone
was
manning the tiller, the ship could not escape it. Sargas help
me, and Zeboim
have mercy. 

Author:    Mephiston     

Date:      Fri Feb  6 07:43:53 2009
Subject    
Summons

 It had been a few days now, his shipped destroy,
his crewmates dead.
Mephiston had woken on the shores of
Nordmaar, dazed and weary. Two Soldiers
had been approaching his
corpse, when he woke. They were armed and not
exactly genial in
nature. He had hoped they were not locals, seeking revenge
upon
him for his kind had been raiding there villages for some time
now. As
it turned out the two were Officers of the Red Dragon
army. After some
parlay, they lowered their guard, if only a
little. With a little
altercation with possession, Tachande ended
up unconscious. Mephiston and
Dante manhandled him back to camp.
Having some discussion about the Dragon
Army, and the future,
Mephiston took Dantes offer of employment, swearing an
oath of
service. 

It had been days since that fated encounter. This day
in particular had been
sluggish; his commander hadnt set a very
rigorous pace. They seemed to be
idle, like the tranquil before
the tempest. Dante appeared preoccupied,
something was amiss. He
had left the encampment quite some time ago. He and
Tachande had
passed the time gambling and swapping tales of
adventure.
Mephiston was not dicing well tonight. He decided to
take a break to tend
the fire, hopeful this could change his
luck. The fire cracked with the
addition of more green wood. The
smoke and steam was noxious to the eyes,
Mephiston frowned as he
leaned in low to stoke the campfire. After
manipulating the fire
to his contentment, he returned to his seat opposite
Tachande.
Mephiston raised his brow and cocked his head, "another game?
I
want to win back some of that gold." Tachande mouth curved in
what appeared
to be an amused grin. He was about to reply when a
booming voice called,
"Tachande, Mephiston! Get up. Break camp we
need to move!" Both Junior
officers jumped at the urgency in
their Commanders voice. Suiting up and
dismantling there camp,
they were prepared to move out with scarcely a trace
left behind.
Dante finished dressing his armor and started out. He didnt
even
turn his head to shout, "Were needed in Neraka and we were needed
there
a week ago. Lets move boys we have a lot of land to cover."


Author:    Mephiston      
Date:      Mon Feb 
9 07:24:24 2009
Subject     The Pickpocket

En route to
the Red Dragon army barracks Tachande and Mephiston were
walking
by the temple of Takisis. Mephiston caught the hand of a thief
in
his pocket. He quickly drew his Axe and began hacking the
infamous worm
known as Ashever. Tachande quick to join the
slaugher drew sword and
engaged. Unfortuneatly the thief rolled
to the side and fled, leaving a
trail of blood behind. The two
pursued and futher injured him, but the
vagrant was too fast a
runner. Apparently the only skill he possessed.
Tachande and
Mephiston laughed heartily as the robber fled the gates
of
Neraka. 

Author:    Mephiston      
Date:    
 Fri Feb 13 07:06:58 2009
Subject     Orders.

The night
air was chill, the sky filled with streamers of smoke
eminating
from thousands of chimneys and fires throught the city
of Neraka. The Red
quarter was busy; troops going to and fro,
some training outside in groups.
The occasional officer running
errands, or commanding exercises could be
seen. Smithies
hammering metal over an anvil and apprentices working
bellows
caused a cacophony unto them selves. them
selves.

Walking the main path through the barracks Mephiston
made his way to the
mess hall. He sat a table by himself, and
began to eat mechanically. He had
many thoughts weighing him
down, he had gone from one life to another. So
much change, one
day a proud Minotaur sailor, the next he had pledged
service to a
human soldier. Life was different here in Neraka, the air
stale
and the streets crowded with human and draconian savages,
or close to it. It
wasnt all bad here however. He enjoyed the
company of Dante and Tachande,
they wereamusing to say the
least.

Mephistons deep reverie was broke by an exaggerated
coughing. He looked up
to see Tachande face peering down at him
with a wry grin. Caught unawares
Mephiston slowly said, Sorry, I
was, he gestured to the seat opposite him,
Reminiscing.

Tachande
settled him self in and signaled a servant for food. His
face
turned serious as he began to relay their orders, "Our
commander has
received word from Lord Verminaard to depart for
Pax Tharkas today. He's
told me to relay that he shall return in
two moons time, till then, we are
ordered to train like real
soldiers."

Mephiston grunted as he looked up from his food and
looked at Tachande, "So,
what shall we do?"

Tachande grabbed a
plate of food and some drink from the servants tray and
set it
down in front of him," right now we eat, afterwards we report to
the
training grounds." This notion seemed kosher to both
warriors, and they
engrossed themselves in their morning meal.


Author:    Mephiston      
Date:      Sun Mar 
8 07:05:13 2009
Subject     Caging the beast to unlock the
beast.

The smell of urine and vomit further intensified
the stabbing pain in
Mephiston's face. He had been recuperating
in this cell now for Sargas alone
knew how long. The days were
hard to track here. Meals here came
sporadically at best, and
made him envy the dogs at least their scraps
weren't rotten. The
jailer made infrequent visits here to update his
situation. At
first Commander Tok had ordered him flogged and displayed in
the
training yard as an example of undisciplined behavior. This
happened
daily, each time the Minotaur howled with rage and
fought his captures.
After days of this torment, Mephiston
learned to curb his wild rages and
took the flogging in silence.
The flogging continued, the flogger harshly
trying to exact some
sign of pain. Mephiston took lash after lash with no
more than
grit teeth, until finally he collapsed into unconsciousness.
After
that the punishment became solitary confinement and minimal
rations,
apparently the torture had lost its appeal.

The ensuing
days were agonizing at best. This cell was made for a
human
occupant, making it a torture in itself to stuff a Minotaur
into it. Muscles
ached, joints cramped. The heat was stifling,
and the cell offered no breeze
to tame the hot air, sucking what
little water he was given out of him. The
sheen of sweat stung as
it covered his tattered back. The wounds from the
whip were not
forgiving. The pain of it all had become mundane to Mephiston.
He
had learned during his punishments to take the pain and forge it
into a
yoke. A yoke to set upon his rage and bestial nature, he
had learned to
harness it into a controllable tool. He would
never again let his rage think
for him, to control him. Woe to
the fool that was on the receiving end of
his newly honed
weapon.

He had a revelation in that cell. He had been taught
that honor, glory, and
vengeance were tantamount to Sargas. But
these were never truly in his grasp
until now. Now he had learned
to disconnect from his flesh and absorb the
pain, consume it
until he was bursting with rage and power. He would not let
these
miserable vermin make a mockery of him, he was a Minotaur,
greatest of
all races on Krynn. These humans would be subjugated
in time, he just had to
bide his time. For now he would wait, the
time was not right.

As if to confirm his thoughts of freeing his
mind, he looked up at the sound
of his cell being unlocked. "Get
up Betsy, Commander says yer cleared to
return to duty."
Mephiston's face was like carved stone. Unblinking he stood
and
kept his gaze locked with the jailers eyes. The jailers face
turned from
cruel arrogance to fear, he swallowed hard and tried
to look anywhere but at
the Minotaur. Mephiston stepped forward
and towered head, shoulders and then
some over the quivering
human. The jailer tried to form words but they came
out in
incomprehensible muttering. Mephiston stood staring at the
pathetic
human a moment more, before striding out of the cell,
ignoring the cramps
and knots his body had become. He wouldn't
allow them the satisfaction. 

Author:    Mephiston    
 
Date:      Fri Mar 20 08:23:47 2009
Subject     To
Mithas.

After recieving orders to return to Mithas,
Mephiston's spirits rose. The
gloom that was Neraka seemed to
lighten. Dante had assigned a small retinue
of red dragonarmy
soldiers to accompany him to Mithas. His orders were
simple. Just
walk into Mithas and inform the most proud and dignified race
on
krynn to bend knee and send troops to assist the Dragonarmies. It
did not
seem a likely senario, however Mephiston had a plan. But
first he had to get
there, and he planned to travel east to
Balifor to catch a ship to the
minotaur isle of Mithas.

The road
east proved to be uneventful, and quick travelling. The names
of
the six humans accompanying him still escaped him. He simply
refered to them
as you. These humans all looked alike anyway,
especially when dressed in
uniform. He could almost recall his
corporals name, something like Keel or
Kyle. Keel halt here and
setup camp.

The Corporal frowned at the repeated error of his
name. Yes Sir, and it's
Kyelle Sir. the man turned and started
barking orders to the soldiers to
make camp and scout the area
for unwanted company. The Minotaur stood there
awhile longer
stroking his chin hair and repeating something under his
breath
over and over again.

After consuming what the humans passed for
dinner, Mephiston retired to his
tent. At least he would be home
soon. He settled in and awaited dreams of
his homeland to take
him out of this place. It seemed he had only just put
down his
head when sound of something breathing woke him. It was outside
his
tent, and looking for something. Mephiston slowly reached
over to where his
axe rested. He held his axe tight in one hand
while using the other to crack
open the tent flap. He could see
three hulking figures going through their
supplies. He could
sneak up on them, however it would be three on one. He
could call
his soldiers to arms, but that would akert the intruders.

He
moved slowly up behind the middle figure. It stood about nine
feet in
height and was an ogre by the smell of it. He himself
wasnt small, and using
that size he drew back his large axe
behind him. The massive arc of steel
curved overhead and came
down into the ogres skull as a woodsmens splits
firewood, after
that everything seemed to happen at once. He let out a war
cry
and jumped toward the second figure. It was prepared and swung
its
massive clubtoward Mephiston's left shoulder. He push aside
the attack with
his axe and using his momentum push passed the
ogre and drove his foot into
the back of its knee. The kick was
enough to drop the creature to its knees.
Mephiston pulled his
axe back to prepare for a killing blow to the back of
its neck.
Instead using his axe to block an onslaught of crushing blows
from
the remaining ogre.

The two coming at him together were
wearing down his defence. The one with
the wounded knee locked
weapons with Mephiston, while the second dove into
his midsection
bringing him to the ground. The ogre had him pinned, however
the
attack from his parter never came. The creature cried out in
agonizing
pain as a sword cut deep into its back, and another
piercing his thigh. Two
more figures, one on each side of it came
around to assail the foul smelling
ogre atop thier leader. Blood
black as Nuitari spewed from its mouth.
Mephiston pushed aside
the corpse and rose to his feet. Looking around the
camp he could
see the two of his guard that had been keeping watch were
laying
at their posts, blood flowing from thier necks.

His men were
also examining the camp to ascertain what had happened.
Kyelle
spoke first, I'm glad you sleep light Sir. His face was
filled with
admiration, and that you almost managed to take them
by yourself. the others
couldnt help but grin at this.

Mephiston
cleared his throat, somewhat uncomfortable at the praise
he
recieved. Yeah well, I'm sure as hell glad you guys got yer
asses in gear as
fast as you did., Mephiston chuckled. 'Kyelle'
he thought, prehaps he could
remember thier names after all. 

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 sighs as he recants 'We saved 869 books from Ansalon from before the great Cataclysm through today.'