An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Nathan.

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 concise treatise on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Nathan' scribed in deep blue ink.

Author:    Nathan         
Date:      Thu Jul  3
20:58:28 2008
Subject     Makarth PK

Evil thrives when
good men do nothing. This evening, as I the path of my
old
patrol, remeniscing over the many times my feet had trod these
streets,
I felt a charge in the air. It felt like battle. I
quickly scanned around,
but saw nothing, and yet, the air hung
thick with divine energy. I quickend
my pace, searching for the
danger. 

It wasn't long before I stumbled accross the source of
the disturbance. The
dark cleric Makarth, standing by the
fountain at Imperial Square, urinating
into the pure waters.


With a yell, I drew my swords and charged. As I ran, he quickly
prepared
himself for battle as well, and unholy energy struck me,
slowing my muscles.
However, my faith in Kiri-Jolith was strong
and the Gods were with me this
evening. One of my blades smote
through his unholy curse, and struck him a
glancing blow,
stunning him. I quickly knocked his head a few times against
the
flagstones and dragged him outside the city, where I left him as
a
warning to those who would cause evil in Palanthas.

I resumed
my stroll through the city, my heart lighter. 

Author:
   Nathan         
Date:      Thu Nov 19 04:22:31
2009
Subject     A rainy day

The rain seemed endless.
Nathan stood under the cover of his tent, arms
crossed, while he
surveyed the terrain. To the south, his scouts reported
massings
of troops, though the Dragonarmy Forces aparently had little
idea
of the location of the solamnic encampment. 

Nathan smiled
slightly as he thought back to his days as a recruit. He
never
would have thought he would be leading this many men into
battle. The smile
disappeared as he wondered how many of his men
would die. 

He turned to watch his men as they ate, excercised,
or simply rested. They
were good men. Honest, and brave. The very
image of the knighthood. But all
young. All untried. Nathan
looked to the horselines and winced as he saw a
beardless boy in
the garb of a paige tending to the horses. Nathan wondered
if the
child would die when they marched. 

He turned back into his
tent, where piles of paperwork sat: Maps, supply
reports, injury
reports, recruitment reports. It seemed endless. He sighed,
the
boy outside almost, but not quite, forgotten.

Outside, the rain
continued to beat against the tent. 

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 868 books from Ansalon from before the great Cataclysm through today.'