The Great Library of Palanthas
An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.
Stories of Ansalon from the view of Sorinjin.
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 'Sorinjin' scribed in faded black ink.
Author: Sorinjin Date Fri Aug 2 23:31:40 2002 Subject Fugitive "You's the only customer I 'ave t'night. I 'ppreciate yer patronage, but ye gotta be leavin' now. This 'ere bar don't stay open fer the whole day, y'know." "Sorry bartender, let me first finish my drink..." "Ye been workin' on that drink fer very long a'ready, lad. How about I get ye an ice cold one, eh? Warm mead ain't good for ye spleen." "Thanks... It might help drown my sorrow" "Aw, hell... not one of you's cats again. Okay boy, let it all out now. What's the matter now, eh?" "You don't want to know..." "All you's "melancholic: types always say that jibber. Out wit' it now, lad. It'll feel better! Let's start wit' ya name" "...Sorinjin..." "....Bloody hell. You?!?!" "I told you... you don't want to know." "Bah... I've heard stories of draconians being Lord Ariakas' bedfellows, I reckon yours ain't as bad now... Aint... THAT bad compared to it... eh?" "Thanks. I guess someone has to know the real truth... Bartender, consider yourself a lucky man. You can keep it to yourself or you can spread the news... but I'm sure it will all fall in deaf ears." ---------------------------------------- Sorinjin... The name still sounds cryptic to me. You think you know everything about yourself. And just when you think you've figured it all out, everything changes just like that. You know the old saying... "you are your worst enemy". My existence brings a whole new meaning to that. In fact, my existence IS the meaning to that. Redken once told me that I'm always being followed by trouble. Everywhere I go, trouble is a step behind. Redken said that no matter how good I am or how noble my deeds are, trouble would make it otherwise. And no, Redken isn't a seer, an oracle or even a raving lunatic prophet... Redken is my fence. He said being my fence is the most dangerous work he's ever been involved with. I'm not really a thief... okay, well I don't act like most thieves do. Ah, who am I kidding. I stole things for money. I'm a thief's thief. It's just that the jobs I sign up for seem to be like signing up for a death sentence. Why I do it? I'm not sure. Even the easiest of jobs can become the worst of nightmares. Lack of skill? Clumsiness? Bad Luck? Doubtful. I would hope that that is the least of my problems, but it isn't. I think it's a curse. Let me tell you why I'm running away... Author: Sorinjin Date Sun Aug 4 00:20:21 2002 Subject Fugitive II Us half-elves probably have it worse that even the Aghar. At least they have a place to call home. Qualinesti shuns me. Ergoth shuns me. Hell, even Kender don't want to hear my stories. I've seen every edge of Ansalon. I've sailed all its seas, walked all its lands just in search of a place to belong. I always end up in little bars like this, drinking my time away. I've been wandering since I was twenty five years old. I'm now ninety three years old. Ninetey Three. That's almost the end of the road for humans. I get to live... no... suffer longer. The sad perk of being half elven. Not all of us can be like the great Tanis Half-Elven, no. So I figured... If everyone thinks they have the right of the Gods to hate me, then I have the right to hate them. You know what's so good about being a ghost? Being someone that doesn't exist officially? Everything is possible. Sorinjin the Bandit. Sorinjin the Scourge. Sorinjin the Renegade Mage. Sorinjin the Hunter. Sorinjin the Predator. Sorinjin the Death Knight. I've even heard Sorinjin the Black Dragon. No one can trace me to where I live. No one can trace me from my family. The only person that actually had any sort of connection to me was Redken. And nobody would ask Redken. Why? Redken is an Aghar. I know, I know, an Aghar fence. It's odd. But I can't help but meet other outcasts. My main trade was thieving. I steal from the rich and give to me. I get jobs from all sorts of clients. Dwarves who lost their goods from Kender. Dragonarmy officers losing their equipment to Goblins. Nobles who are jealous of other nobles' posessions (which sometimes includes wives). I even did a job for a high ranking Knight Of Solamnia. I've done more taxing jobs before. Extortion, kidnapping, assasination... And I could get away with just about everything. Redken said that when he says "trouble follows me wherever I go", he doesn't think of it as circumstance. He thinks the "trouble" that follows me is something else... Some entity. There is always someone who knows what I was doing. Who knows my methods. Someone who tries to foil my every plan, but fails to capture me. Then one day... trouble just happened to walk in the door. -to be continued- (OOC: Some things never change... I still overdo my stories =P) Author: Sorinjin Date Sun Aug 4 19:52:58 2002 Subject Fugitive III Intent. I don't classify them as good or evil, noble or criminal, malicious or gracious. Intent is just intent. What may be good to some people is evil to another. Like say... the Knights of Solamnia wanted to build an outpost in the Qualinesti forests for protection. It's noble of them to watch over their Elven allies, but at the same time they're desecrating the forests. Cutting down the trees and using those as materials for their buildings. At the same time, it becomes a strategic target for the Dragonarmies. And why stop there? Qualinesti is just a few steps away. Intent is intent. I just came back to my shack in the outskirts of Robann, some little city on the border of Nordmaar and Estwilde. Just came back from a relatively easy smash and grab job. But unlike my past jobs, this one was flawless. It went without problems. It was too perfect. I figured I should stash the goods in my basement until I set off the road to Neraka tomorrow to deliver this sword to my client. I'll keep the lights on, just in case. I was staring at the sword for a while. It was a typical longsword, standard length and weight, looked to be of elven design. It had a carved message in Qualinesti on its hilt, which read: By this sword, I've lost my love. By this sword, I've lost my will By this sword, I've lost my sense By this sword, I've lost my home By this sword, I've lost my life If this sword sheds blood, you shall know what you have lost. -Paiathel It sent a chill down my spine. I'm usually not intimidated by messages carved on inanimate objects, but for some reason... the message on this sword screamed the truth. I slipped it back into its scabbard and hung it at my wall of trophies. I repeated the sentence to myself while picturing what the past owner of this sword experienced. The sword has seen war. It has seen murder. It has seen intent. It has seen betrayal. Betrayal. And just like that, bounty hunters swarmed my shack. One of them stuck his crossbow to my chin and said 'you are a hard man to track down, Sorinjin with many names.' Instinctively, I grabbed the sword and hacked his head off. Crossbow bolts started flying in my direction. I took cover, then looked at the sword. Blood slowly crawled from its blade to the hilt, and instead of seeing my own reflection on its blade... I saw Redken. Redken wearing a custom fit dragonarmy officer's armor. Redken sitting on a pile of gold. Redken raising my head high in the air. Betrayal. Who would ever guess that "trouble" was Redken himself. Redken... The only one I trusted. I was alone again. You know what was so good about being a ghost? About being someone that doesn't exist? Everything is possible. Redken's blood stains this sword. Even Aghars have it better than me. At least his suffering is over. At least he's already dead. -Sorinjin Damen-Korin Author: Sorinjin Date Fri Sep 20 03:02:07 2002 Subject To Sorinjin, from House Kirinjiru (or, The plot thickens) By the time this letter reaches you... if it even reaches you in the first place... I'll be dead. It was me who told you to take the Sword from Count Kirinju's keep. I know everyone has let you down at this point, but if I were still breathing, then you know you can trust me. For one, I am your half brother, son of Hurdan Korin. It might seem a little far fetched, but I have devoted most of my life to finding you, my blood. All this... the job, the sword, our family, the curse... It's intertwined with a long vicious circle that you must put an end to. Everything that has happened so far and what it has to do with you, I shall explain as best I can, with what little time I have in this world. Had i the time, and the opportunity, I would help you out myself in the quest, but Alas, my life has been forfeit ever since that crime. There was a known killer around Qualinesti, a man who's gone mad by the voices of Sargonnas he claims he hears wherever he goes. This man was your... our father. Though I tried to turn myself in to the goodness of Paladine, the blackness that Sargonnas tainted in his heart flows within me, and you as well. It's cursed the Korin's blood with many a man's weakness. I for one am a victim of jealousy. I am amazed you were able to live this long without a care about your heritage. Had you have known though, would you have even cared? The sword you posess was once owned by an honorable Knight named Gwathor D'murin. A high ranking knight of Solamnia, respected amongst his peers and his enemies. He once defeated a scout party along with two dragons in an open field with six men, including himself. All without the use of magic, and all with the use of only swords. No casualties. He was a genius in the battlefield, and he is just as strong in his heart as well. A man of great honor and valor. He was my superior. I served under him in thirteen different battles, all of which I'm proud to say we've bested. The sword was given by the father of his bride to be, Paiathel Lieth of Qualinesti, formerly A red robed mage of the conclave. She left the Conclave and gave up on her studies of magic to be with Lord Gwathor. Paiathel's father enchanted the sword so that it would not lose its edge, its lustre and its brilliant glow, yet at the same time, he cursed that very sword to take Gwathor's life if he has once mistreated his bride to be. That very sword killed Gwathor, alright. But not because of the curse that was set into it... It was because of me. I killed Gwathor. I killed him because I was jealous of him. His life, his endeavors, his reputation... and especially his wife. I wanted Paiathel for myself, brother. Yes... But things wouldn't work out so. It seems we Korins are made to suffer from the blackness of our hearts. You became the Sorinjin Damen-Korin you are now, and I became Count Kirinju of Lemish. Yes, you stole the sword away from me for I would not want to see it anymore. For my dishonesty and malice, Paiathel cursed the sword, as she has cursed our already tainted bloodline. I'm sure you have seen the various enchantments of the sword. It flies back to your hand if you were disarmed, it glows brightly in an unlit room and it's blade can reveal various visions if you smear it with another man's blood. But it has gained its own enchantments as well ever since my blood stained the sword. It's a beacon to all of those who hunt you. It visits their dreams and twists their mind to the point that they're driven into a mad rage, with their only focus being you and your death, and them gaining the sword. I want you to take the sword, and find Paiathel. Find her, and kill her with that very sword. Only then, will our trouble be banished once and for all. And another thing. It has one more curse. It can't leave its current owner. If it ever does, it will come back to slay him. Yes, Sorinjin, I'm waiting for you. I want to see you before you take my life. If you're reading this, you probably already have killed me. Author: Sorinjin Date Fri Sep 20 03:11:03 2002 Subject continuation of the letter (or, the plot didn't get that thick, so here's the part that makes it thicker) And you would have had no idea until now. No idea at all. ...Count Kirinju Damen-Korin ...... I don't think I have the courage to do this. I'm not sure why. It's the sword. I've grown quite attached to it. And the dreams... it didn't torment me... it made me feel like I was wanted. Like I had somewhere to belong. Like I had a purpose. Like my existence actually means something... Paiathel. I've fallen in love with her. Madly in love with her. Madly. .. .... ........ ..... Madly. -Sorinjin-
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