An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Rhibbl.

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 journal on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Rhibbl' scribed in glowing yellow ink.

Author:    Rhibbl         
Date:      Sun Jul 15
19:27:31 2007
Subject     Rhibbl Background

A small
village is quietly nestled under tall, dark pine
trees.
No light shines forth from any window, no fire is
seen in the pits,
and no citizens can be seen moving around the
streets or alleyways.  In fact, 
the entire village is cursed,
and it all has to do with dark magic.
It happened quite early
that morning.  Three dark cloud wraiths swept
down upon the
village and swallowed with their gaping mouths, anything
alive.

An old, withered hag with wiry gray hair looks down at
the cursed village.
She is standing on the crest of a large, snow
covered mountain.  The strong wind
makes her bony frame sway to
it's violent rhythm.  With an evil grin, she
cackles, while she
proceeds to crick and contort her entire body.  Her long,

green robe whips in unison with the wind.

She has travelled
a long distance to be here, and a vision has brought her to
this
point in time.  The old hag also has no idea why she should seek
out a
small child.  The old hag only knows that the village is
cursed and that
all the town inhabitants are gone.  Her god,
Morgion, asked her to complete
this task, or face certain
death.  

The old hag mutters quietly to a monkey bird
hovering beside her.

"Fly down to that thar village.  Seek out
the weeee one and bring it back to 
me, all in one piece.  It
will be wrapped in a dirty red sash, and hidden
in a
chicken coop.  Do not come back without the child AND the
sash."

The hairy, brown monkey-bird cocks it's head to one
side, and begins
to chatter loudly.  After a quick hover in a
wind stream, the monkey-bird
dives down in search of the
not-yet-named humanoid, Rhibbl. 

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.'