An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Ralleos.

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 private journal on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Ralleos' scribed in earth-colored maroon ink.

Author:    Ralleos        
Date:      Thu Oct  1 22:41:49
2009
Subject     Going out into the world.

A young man circles an
older man, a look of pure hatred on his face. The
boy, Ralleos Von Drake, was
training with his father Meric, who was a cruel
man who often beat Ralleos for
the slightest mistake. Granted, Ralleos had
be come a decent fighter because of
this, but he hated his father with a
passion. With a grunt, Ralleos jumps
forward, swinging his wooden sword at
his father in an arc. Meric deflects the
blow and sends Ralleos spinning
with a massive blow to the face. Ralleos hits
the ground hard and curses,
wiping blood off his lip. "Youre Pathetic, boy.
Theres no way you came from
my loins." Meric says as he spits on the ground and
turns to walk away.

Uttering a curse as he stands, Ralleos pulls a dagger out
of his boot and
leaps forward, plunging the dagger into Merics side. He pulls
his father
close. "Tell me, am I pathetic now father?" He whispers as he
wrenches the
dagger back and forth in his fathers back. He pushes the man
forward and
Meric stumbles before falling to his knees, holding the massively
bleeding
wound in his side. Ralleos walks calmly over to where his sword was
and
draws it from the sheath. "You..no good.." Meric starts to say but his
words
are cut off as Ralleos sword passes through his neck. Ralleos watches as
his
fathers head soars through the air and lands face down in the dirt.

He
spits on the beheaded body before turning and walking away. He cleans the
blood
off his blade and sheathes it before moving into the house and
gathering his
belongings. With what he needed in a pack on his back, he
grabs a torch and
tosses it into the house before shutting the door. He was
free now, at least
free from his father. Another had been calling to him, in
his dreams and in his
heart. With a smirk he pulls his hood up over his head
and walks off into the
world, the house up in flames behind him. 

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.'