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 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 heavy platinum-covered book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Mephiston' scribed in faded blue 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

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