An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Xandros.

A little gully dwarf runs by and says 'Wordwrap Off 65 80.'
The gully continues 'Want color back? Turn Color Back ON!!

Astinus says 'Enter the main library here to view only the author list.'
Astinus gently places a small volume on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Xandros' scribed in rich grey ink.

Author:    Xandros        
Date:      Sun Nov  4 22:33:45 2012
Subject     Arrival

Xandros es-Kormar was born on the island of Mithas, on the day of the
great circus. During the bloodiest, most furious battle, it was decided that
it was his time to enter the world. He emerged from his mother amidst
screams and sprays of blood. His first breath was taken along with frenzied
cheers and frothing mouths all around him. He first touched soil among
myriad stomping hooves and the passionate cries of spectators and combatants
alike. The entire clan had a hand in hoisting the new born high into the air
proclaiming him alive, born of battle, and blessed by Sargas. 

During his formative years, he was tought the ways of battle, cunning, and
wit, as all minotaur children are. He excelled at everything he put his hand
or mind to, and managed to impress everyone around him. He made several
close friends, and led them around as they grew together, causing mischief,
and living through good times and bad. During this time, one of his
clanmates, Nibar, grew jealous of him and plotted against him behind
everyones back. 

Nibar found a group of travelling mercenaries looking for jobs, and gladly
took the job he offered them. Only two nights later, the mercenaries managed
to catch Xandros alone on the outskirts of a nearby wood. Xandros killed one
of them before the other four took him down and beat him within an inch of
his life. They would have killed him, but Nibar had been watching from
within the treeline, and never asked for Xandros to be murdered, just tought
a lesson. 

The mercenaries took one look at the corpse of their comrade, and as Xandros
watched helplessly, they each drew daggers and began to stab his treacherous
clanmate to death. Xandros' head swam from the beating, and his body was
only now beginning to respond to his urgent commands to get up and lay waste
to these men. But several of his bones were broken, and he had a massive
headwound. Death would have taken many a lesser creature, but Xandros was
strong, and refused to die in such a disgra ceful manner. 

He knew he could not save his clanmate, nor did he really want to. He did,
however, need these men to die for what they had done. He clenched his jaw
and summoned every bit of strength he had, and as he did, he heard a faint
whisper. He dismissed it as a breeze in the grass at first, but it grew
louder, though no more discernable. He couldn't make out any words, but he
knew he heard a voice. A female voice, speaking to him. 

He shrugged it off once more and clenched dirt into his hands as he pushed
himself up off the ground. He saw how much blood he'd lost and he swayed
briefly on his feet, but he shook his head and found his composure within an
instant. He threw his arms back, thrust his horned head out before him and
let out an immense roar, which startled the mercenaries, who had at that
point, assumed him dead and had been taking turns mutilating Nibar's
corpse.

They all turned as one, just in time to see Xandros's bulk of muscle, horns
and teeth upon them. He impaled one with a horn and swiped at another with a
massive backhand. They went down like ragdolls as the other two brandished
their weapons, taking swipes at him, which he easily dodged. He waited for
an opening and with uncanny quickness, reversed one of the mercenaries
thrusts back and stuck him in the neck with his own knife. 

The man clutched at the wound as Xandros' hoofed foot slammed into his
stomach, ridding him of all but one last man. The man looked around
frantically, sweat beading on his brow as he began to see his doom stalking
toward him with clenched fists. In a desperate attempt he threw his knife,
but the hulk just dodged to one side and the thin blade sliced nothing but
air. The man began to plead with Xandros, begging for his life and
apologizing for everything going so wrong. 

Xandros heard nothing but the soft female whisper as he clenched the mans
throat and crushed his windpipe. The man's eyes bulged momentarily before
the battle-born minotaur's hand tightened it's grip, tugged and quickly
jerked to the other side, causing his neck to pop loudly before his eyes
rolled back into his head and he went limp. 

Xandros fell to his knees and let out another anguished roar. So much had
happened so fast that he wasn't sure if he was awake, or dreaming. The
frenzy began to wane as the whispering voice softened and gave way to a loud
pounding in his head. The pain was starting to surface and he grit his teeth
through it. His vision clouded and his mind screamed as his body gave out
and everything went black. 

A woman came to him then, surrounded by darkness and dressed in glorious
onyx armor, and he heard the whisper once more. He knew he was dreaming but
it seemed like something more, the thought, however, wouldn't form and he
couldn't make sense of anything. The whisper was still incoherent, but he
knew someone was speaking to him, trying to tell him something, and he
didn't know who this woman was. 

Perhaps his mind had made her up to put a face to the voice he now heard?
Was this woman a manifestation of the gruesome battle that had just taken
place? Nothing was certain except the darkness that began to creep in on the
woman. The voice began to echo and fade as if it were receding into the
distance, and as the darkness encompassed her form, so too did it encompass
his mind, and he fell into oblivion once more. 

When he awoke, he was still lying in his own blood, right where he had
passed out. He didn't know how much time had passed, but in a haze, he felt
drawn into the woods. He wandered in, leaving his clan and his life behind.
All he knew was there was a desperate need to put one foot in front of the
other, and heed the wordless whispers in his mind. For countless days and
nights, he just walked on until he passed out, only to awaken and once more
resume his trek. 

Even when he was awake, he was only really conscious for bits and pieces of
the journey. Most of the time, he wandered mindlessly, unable to pay heed to
anything but the voice. He simply followed the whispering call to whatever
unknown destination lay before him. Along the way, he found just enough food
and water to sustain him, whether it was a day old carcass or some small
game that had met it's unfortunate end right in his eventual path, and mere
hours before he happened upon it. 

Somehow, he arrived at the gates of Palanthas. The sight of the massive city
caused him to sober up a bit and he had enough sense left in his fog laden
mind to tuck in his coinpurse, which was fairly full, and head for the
nearest inn. He ate, managing to keep most of it down before the pounding in
his head combined with the ceaseless whispers finally drove him to find his
room, and sleep again. He awoke some time later, the whispers having ceased
as far as he could tell, and made his way into the city proper to try to
clear his mind and figure out what had driven him there so strangely. 
 
 

Author:    Xandros        
Date:      Tue Nov  6 13:09:59 2012
Subject     A Glimpse of Fate

After spending a few days in and out of fitful sleep, plagued with dark
dreams that gnawed at his troubled mind, Xandros couldn't help but question
his own sanity. He got out of the small bed that he barely remembered paying
for, and paced around the small room, slowly. He stopped by the window and
looked out at the city. It was beginning to dawn on him that he had simply
watched his clanmate die, and despite his betrayal, he had avenged that
death. Treacherous or not, Nibar was family. He grit his teeth at the
memory, and vaguely recalled being filled with a rage and hate he had never
known before, and he remembered how powerful it made him feel. He forced
himself to remember the pain, the blood, the death. He stared out the window
for a moment, before he heard a loud SNAP. 

He blinked and looked down at the source of the noise, and saw pieces of
wood from the windowsill in his hands. He snorted and tossed them to the
ground. He needed to remember what caused him to black out, and travel so
far with no logical motivation to do so. He shook his head and grunted. "I
must be losing my mind... The battle that night must have caused me to go
berserk and my will was simply too weak to reign myself in. I need to get
home to the clan and explain what happe..." 

The thought was unable to form before searing hot pain exploded in Xandros'
head. His vision went blurry and his head swam. The whispers crept back in
and he found himself lying on the floor, gripping his temples, and shaking.
He tried to make them out, but just as he tried to focus on them, at the
edge of his mind, they were gone. He exhaled and went limp, rolling onto his
back, his arms spread wide. Uncontrollable rage coursed through his veins as
he rolled over and stood up, the pain completely gone now. "WHO ARE YOU?!
WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?!" He shouted, and as he did, he turned to look out
the window once again, and saw a curious sight. There in the center of the
broad cobblestone streets of Palanthas, walked a lady in exquisite armor,
and beside her, walked a majestic blue dragon. 

The sight inspired much awe in Xandros. His rage ebbed, and his pain seemed
to melt away. To see such a great and powerful beast travelling with a
human, and a woman at that, was almost enough to make him forget everything
else. His eyes were fixed on the pair as they made their way past the
window. He never paid much attention to events outside his own clan, unless
one of his elders told him otherwise, and he had heard a couple of rumors
about dragons and humans coming together and fighting as one. 

But to see the two together was... It was almost indescribable. He barely
noticed as the whispers crept upon him, and this time, the sound of them was
different. The whispers seemed to wrap around his mind lovingly and embrace
his every thought and feeling. He still could make out no words, though it
sounded like someone speaking to him. It almost didn't matter as he watched
the pair slowing down to speak with someone outside the inn. Something
stirred in him and he shook his head, snapping out of whatever trance he was
in. He quickly donned his clothing and headed downstairs and outside, though
he couldn't say what drove him to do so, other than an inexplicable desire
to get closer to this woman and the great dragon. 
 
 

The Storytellers of Ansalon, The DragonLance MUD

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