An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Wygz.

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 brief catalogue on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Wygz' scribed in burnt black ink.

Author:    Wygz           
Date:      Thu Apr  5
14:41:25 2018
Subject     An Odd Arrival

The harbour
master sits on his stool in front of the writing desk holding
the
mooring manifest. He lets out a heavy sigh, then looks up to the
sinking
sun. A smile crosses his face as he realizes his shift is
nearly over, but
the smile turns to a frown as another small boat
sails into the Bay of
Branchala. Clearly an elven ship, which was
odd these days, but this one is
very peculiar. Its sails are a
dark grey with a white quilted pattern.
Interconnected in that
pattern is a symbol that looks like an open book. The
hull itself
is of elven make, but there are odd runes about the entirety
of
it.

The heavy set man watches as the boat comes closer,
seeing the pilot is the
only person on the boat causes his
eyebrow to rise. As it approaches, the
sails seem to furl
themselves. The boat comes into moor and stops just shy
of
touching the dock itself and the elf pilot steps off in a single
fluid
motion. It is at this time that the harbour master realizes
that the elf has
been reading a book the entire time.

The man
stands mouth agape as the elf casually walks by, his head in his
old
book. The pilot is peculiarly dressed with a sort of matching
jacket, vest,
and trousers. He holds the book in one hand, and in
the other he has a sort
of parasol held along with his luggage.
The man comes back to himself and
calls out to the elf, "Sir,
excuse me, sir." Then again louder to break the
elf's
attention, "Oi, elf!"

The odd elf stops, then seems to
finish the passage he is reading before
looking up with a
pleasant smile, "I am sorry, sir, how can I help?"

The
harbour master finds himself swallowing his annoyance as if
unable to
remain frustrated at the elf, "There is a mooring
fee, sir."

The elf starts at this, then looks back at his
boat. "My goodness, thank you
for reminding me, I had
completely forgotten."

The human finds a loss for words as the
pilot walks right past him again
towards the boat. The suited elf
sets his luggage down then waves his
umbrella at the boat a few
times and suddenly it is no longer there, or so
the man thinks.
The elf then walks to the edge of the dock where the
ladder
stands. Then, setting his book and umbrella on the dock,
he climbs down the
ladder. When he climbs back up, he is carrying
what looks like an identical
model of the boat. He opens his
portmanteau and tucks it inside, despite the
obvious lack of
space based on the bag's dimensions. The peculiar elf then
takes
up his things and gives a broad smile to the man.

The elf walks
up to the man, the large man's mouth agape once more. The
elf,
still smiling, presents the old book he has been reading to
the harbour
master, "For your troubles, and would you mind
pointing me in the direction
of the great library?"

Without
saying a word, the harbour master points towards the direction
of
the library and watches as the elf begins the walk down the
docks then into
the city, reflecting on the peculiarity of the
encounter. After the elf
disappears from sight, he looks down at
the title of the book, 'The Wonders
of Istar, and Other Reasons
to Visit the City of Virtue'. 

Author:    Wygz    
      
Date:      Tue May  1 19:58:45 2018
Subject     A
Declined Request

The Aesthetic makes her way through
the hallways of the Great Library at
a brisk walk. She reverently
holds a folded sheet of paper in her hands, its
edges fluttering
slightly as she makes her way back to the entrance of
the
building. She slows down and collects herself before turning
the corner and
entering the large entry hall. In a corner of the
room, sitting in a
cushioned chair and reading an ancient book is
an elf in peculiar garb.

She gets within a few feet of the elf,
expecting him to react to her
presence. Instead, the elf
continues reading the old tome as if he was
completely unaware of
his surroundings. The Aesthetic clears her throat
once, then
twice, then finally speaks, "Sir?"

"Oh, excuse me,"  the
elf says, as he plucks his bowler hat off his knee and
stands,
"It seems I was lost in my book. Shall we go see him?" The
elf gives
the Aesthetic a delighted smile as he peers deep into
her eyes.

The woman breaks the elf's gaze and looks down as she
reaches out her hand,
presenting the slip of paper. "The
Chronicler will not see you now. He is
much too busy at the
moment."

"Oh, of course,"  the elf says, unphased by the
declining of his request to
see Astinus. He opens the small sheet
of paper and reads its contents, a
small smile crossing his face.
"Tell him that I understand, and will
return,"  he says as he
refolds the piece of paper and places it in his book
before
snapping it shut.

As he shuts the book, the Aesthetic is able to
make out the title, 'Sir
Loren Soth, Protector of Pilgrims'. She
eyes the elf as he tucks the book
into a pocket inside his odd
jacket. As she eyes his clothing, she notices
the open book pin
on his lapel and her eyebrow rises.

The elf reaches down and
retrieves his luggage from beside his chair, and
with a nod
states, "Well, thank you, Miss. I hope to see you again
soon." He
turns on his heel and makes his way to the exit. He
opens it, then stops as
he notices the rain outside. He replaces
the bowler hat on his head, then
pulls out a black umbrella from
between the handles of his portmanteau. With
luggage back in
hand, he looks back and gives a wave for the Aesthetic,
then
opens his umbrella and steps out into the rain, disappearing
into the haze. 

Author:    Wygz          

Date:      Fri Jan 11 16:20:40 2019
Subject    
Conversation on High, pt. 1

The freezing wind whips
through the mountain range as a figure trudges
through the deep
snow, seemingly unphased by the cold weather. The high elf
merely
reaches up to insure his felt bowler hat is not lifted off of
his
head. He finally puts away the book he is reading as he finds
he is no
longer able to keep the pages from rustling around. He
stops a moment to
fish something out of the pockets of his
overcoat, leaning heavily on his
blackthorn walking stick.
Finally, his hand emerges holding a pair of
theater glasses, and
after speaking an arcane word, puts them up to his
eyes. He scans
his surroundings before a slight smile crosses his face and
he
tucks the small binoculars back into his overcoat.

Changing his
direction, he makes his way directly for a rock outcropping
not
far from his location. After a few moments he reaches the
rocky area, and
with a chuckle, steps through the hard surface
and into a small cave. The
curious elf glances around before
setting down his large portmanteau and
opening it up. He digs
around within the suitcase, his entire upper body
nearly
disappearing into the extradimensional space.

After a moment of
searching the portmanteau, he pulls out a full-size,
standalone
coat rack. He sets the coat rack in the corner of the cave
then
removes his overcoat and places it on a hook before brushing
it clean. He
then removes his bowler hat, revealing his undercut,
and places the hat on
another hook. Finally, he leans the
blackthorn walking stick on the rack and
and straightens the
edges of his odd grey suit. He begins to walk deeper
into the
cave, swinging his umbrella forward before letting the tip of
it
fall to the ground with a tap.

With his book open in his hand
once more, the elf makes his way through
tunnels, some natural
and others dug out, deep into the mountain. Even with
the pitch
blackness surrounding him, he seems to find his way without
any
issue and still read his book. Finally, he reaches a large
open cavern that
is permeated with a magical light that appears
to have no source. In the
center of the massive cavern, sits a
small cottage that would fit better on
the Plains of Solamnia
than deep inside a mountain.

Despite being engrossed in his
ancient tome, he heads directly for the
cottage door that has
been painted a brilliant gold. He stops just short of
the door,
but does not turn his gaze to it immediately. Instead,
he
continues reading the section of the book in his hand.
Finally, he closes
the book, then after taking a deep breathe, he
raises his umbrella to rap on
the door. Before he can knock on
the door, however, its latch clicks and the
door slowly creeks
ajar.

The peculiar elf raises an eyebrow at the door, then
reaches out with his
umbrella and pushes the door further. It
swings open to reveal a space
significantly larger than the
cottage itself. With a whistle of
appreciation, he steps into the
cottage and takes a look around.

The entryway would feel more
appropriate in a Solamnic castle's great hall.
Several fires burn
in multiple fireplaces throughout the room. Other than
the
fireplaces, the room is virtually unlit, leaving large swathes
of
shadows. As the elf takes a few steps in, a large shadow
shifts at the back
of the hall, "It has been sometime since I
have had a guest."

Out of the shadows steps an ancient looking
human, and though his features
would make him seem as though he
were close to death, the way he holds
himself is like that of a
younger and stronger man.

Upon seeing the man, the elf stops and
waits for his host to approach, then
lowers himself into a deep
bow. He holds himself nearly folded over for a
moment before
standing straight, his head still bowed, "It is an honor to
be
the one to pay you a visit, Mister Glister. I am Wygz." The
elf opens the
book he was reading and pulls out a slip of paper,
then presents the tome to
the old man, "Please accept this gift
from my own collection." 

Author:    Wygz       
   
Date:      Fri Jan 11 16:25:59 2019
Subject    
Conversation on High, pt. 2

For a moment, a greedy
grin crosses the man's face as he reaches out and
takes the book
from the elf and reads the cover. The human gives a large
belly
laugh at reading the title, 'Of the first Inhabitants of
Krynn'.

"An excellent gift, to be sure. Please, make yourself
at home, Master Wygz,"
 Glister indicates a pair of overstuffed
chairs sitting next to a lit
fireplace, "Would you care for an
elvish wine? I have forgotten its vintage,
but it is from a time
before Kith-Kanan."

A delighted smile touches the elf's face
and he nods as he approaches the
chairs, "That would be lovely.
Thank you, sir." The high elf takes a seat in
one of the
overstuffed chairs and stares into the fire as if remembering
a
time long ago, "It has been sometime since I have had a good
elven wine. The
older vintages are becoming harder and harder to
come by."

"All too true, friend. It is good to see that some
have not forgotten how to
visit one of us. I suppose you could
say the older vintages of people are
becoming harder and harder
to come by,"  the man says with a warm smile,
"But, I expect
you did not come here just for a visit. I chose this location
for
its distance from civilization." The man looks over the elf a
moment
then smiles, "You are here for a book, no
doubt."

"Not that I would appreciate the conversation, but
yes, I have been sent
here by the Chronicler."

With a grin on
his face, the human sets the wine, cork already removed, and
two
glasses on the small table between the two chairs. He then walks
over to
a bookshelf that takes up much of the long wall. As he
goes straight for a
particularly old tome, he replies, "There
is no reason you cannot stick
around after our business is done.
I would appreciate the company of one,
such as yourself." He
pulls the old, but well preserved tome from the shelf,
"I
presume that you are aware there are very few of this title left
on
Krynn, and that this is the oldest."

Wygz smiles and nods
and he pours a small amount of wine into each crystal
glass, "I
am well aware. I make it a point to ensure the delivery of
every
book in the same condition in which I receive it."

"I
believe that you are speaking the truth, and I have not met
another in
this age that I would entrust this to,"  he says as
he returns with the book
and holds it out to the elf, "And it
doesn't hurt that the Lorekeeper sent
you."

The mage
graciously accepts the tome, then checks the title. With a
smile,
he whispers something under his breath then taps his index
finger on the
book before tucking it next to him on the chair.
"Thank you, sir,"  he says
as the human sits down in the
chair on the other side of the table and pulls
out a pipe and
lights it with magic. "I do not suppose, you have a spare?
I
seem to have lost mine."

With a smile, the man opens a box
on the table to reveal an elegantly carved
meerschaum pipe. The
carving is made to resemble an ancient elf lord. "You
may have
it, friend. It was once a present from one of your clan, and it
is
only fair it return to its heir."

The elf reverently
removes the pipe from the box and inspects it, a look
of
recognition crossing his face. He then turns to pose the man a
question, but
before he can get a word out, he gets his answer,
""Yes, sir. It is."

The elf looks at the pipe for a moment,
before retrieving a leather pouch
from his jacket and packing the
bowl and lighting it with his own magic,
"Well, I suppose if
you have the time, I would like to hear about why it was
you
decided to seclude yourself up here in these mountains, if you do
not
mind."

The man smiles and nods, "Well, I suppose it was
about an Age ago..." 

Author:    Wygz          

Date:      Fri Jan 11 16:27:31 2019
Subject    
Conversation on High, pt. 3

The two continue to
converse for quite some time over topics from Ages
past to
current events, both appreciative of the information
shared.
Finally, Glister stands with a yawn and a stretch, then
looks to the several
wine bottles on the table, "Well, I do not
know about you, but I am tuckered
and must get some sleep. I have
quite enjoyed this talk, Master Wygz. If you
find yourself in my
neighborhood again, you are more than welcome to drop
in. Give my
regards to Astinus, if you see him. There is undoubtedly a
late
fee for that book, so, please take this to the Great Library
and make sure
it is put to good use." The man drops a sizable
pouch that jingles as it
lands on the table.

"It has been my
pleasure, Mister Glister,"  Wygz says, standing from his
chair
and proffering a bow for the being, "And this will go to good
use." He
retrieves the pouch from the table and hooks it to his
belt before grabbing
the book and his umbrella. He makes his way
to the door, and once there,
looks back a final time to see the
man's visage shudder as he steps into the
shadows at the back of
the room. A large shadow settles itself down to rest,
and the
mage exits the cottage with a smile, the door shutting and
locking
itself.

Wygz pulls up the book that Glister had given
him and looks at the title
once more, 'The Story of Three
Siblings'. Very carefully, he turns it to the
first page and
begins to read as he walks back to the entrance of the cave,
his
umbrella making a tapping noise all the way. 

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 mentions 'We have had over 869 storytellers on Ansalon pen their epic stories here for all to read.'