An Aesthetic shows you to a small reading room.

Stories of Ansalon from the view of Zandra.

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 worn book on the table in front of you.
You note the spine bears the word 'Zandra' scribed in burnt orange ink.

Author:    Zandra         
Date:      Sat Jul  5 14:05:58
2008
Subject     Another quiet day

The building sat empty, the doors
closed tight. A solirary figures
approached the building, pushing open the
doors. An old table stood in the
center of the cleaing, just as it had been the
day before. The smell of
drying herbs drifted on the air. Zandra stepped into
the building, closing
her eyes and tilting her head back. She giggled silently,
opening her eyes
as she twirled in a circles, her arms outstretched. She enjoyed
the smell of
the fresh herbs. 

She walked to the table, removing the bag she
slung over her chest. She laid
the bag on the table. Walking across the room,
she picked up herbs that were
drying on racks nearby. With little sound, she
carried the herbs to the
table, quietly working with a boiling pot of water, she
mixed the herbs and
water, filling bottles with the mixture.

A human man
wearing long robes of light blue in color walked by the opening
of the building,
looking into it. "So young Zandra, this is where you got to
after the commotion
from your father this morning. You know he will be none
to pleased to find you
playing with those things again. You know how he
feels about you fiddling with
anything with the slightest hint of magic," he
said, nodding at her. She sighed,
nodding quietly. The man watched with a
shake of his head as the girl known as
Zandra carefully cleaned everything
and put what she had used back into its
proper place. He stepped back as she
closed the door to the building and walked
away, her head hung low. After
she had left the building, the man walked into
it, looking around. He
smiled, noting that the book that he had left on the
table days ago had
disappeared. He nodded. "She is a mage, just like her mother.
Too bad her
father is so hard on her following her mother's footsteps," he said,
closing
the doors. "I wonder if she will be able to do much more than boil water
and
mix herbs in it. She says very little to anyone," he commented, picking up
a
basket and a digging tool before setting off into the forest in search of
more
herbs. 

Author:    Zandra         
Date:      Sat Jul  5
23:04:27 2008
Subject     The notebook

The day started out so
seemingly innocent. Zandra spent time in the
building that the older man had
said she could, then she headed into the
center of town. She spent her time in
the shop that her father owned,
selling goods from behind the counter, her quiet
voice giving only the
briefest of answers on question that customers asked. She
felt her father's
gaze on her as she sold supplies to a man wearing robes
marking him a
practitioner of the magical arts. When the man left, her father
sent her to
the back to check the storeroom and sort supplies.

Over an hour
later, her father stomped to the back. He pushed her to the
ground, yelling at
her and accusing her of meeting with the mage and
learning what he termed as a
"useless profession" from him. She cringed
against the wall, trying to hide from
him. When he finished his rant, he
stomped back out of the stockroom, leaving
Zandra alone. She took deep
breaths and returned to her feet. 

She glanced back
toward the front of the store, sighing as she picked up her
bag and looped it
over her shoulder. With another glance, she opened the
back door and stepped out
into the light. 

She walked through the town, trying to avoid everyone. She
slipped into the
building, closing it firmly behind her. With silent feet, she
walked to the
darkest corner of the room. Sitting down, she quietly whispered a
strange
word. With no other movement or sound, a small ball of light started
glowing
just over Zandra's head. She looked up at it with a wistful look as
she
pulled the book that the man in blue robes had left. Opening it, she
started
reading where she had left off. 

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.'