Twilight glints in a rosy hue off of the windows in the many structures erected on the surface of the Citadel, the sharp reflected rays seeming to only enhance the beauty and peacefulness of the view which few had seen; far above the world, constantly hidden in a seemingly magical veil of clouds. Taking in the vastness, you marvel at the Tower, the Temple, the Castle, and a large building that now seemed to be calling to you. It is huge, but not tall. Made of the same white and gray marble, the building is flat to the ground, stretching out across a large area.
On top of the building is a network of beautiful gardens and lawns. A few people sit here or there, reading and talking. This is obviously the Library, another jewel in the beautiful crown of the Citadel. You hurry down across the lawns to a small doorway. The white aspens set around the Library shake in the warm wind, seeming to keep a vigilant watch over the Library and what it contains.
Etched on the walls of the Library are scenes depicting the Great Ages of Krynn. You stop for a moment to look, but then continue in your haste into the warm and inviting recesses of the dim building. The wooden door creaks slightly as you open it and step into the softly-lit room. Orbs of light hang in a way so it illuminates but does not disturb the passerby or the person reading intently. Magical by origin, the orbs glow and float on their own accord.
The walls are covered still with the runes and etchings of the Ages. The floors in the large entryway are covered in fine rugs, and furniture is placed near the walls, where many people are sitting and reading from small books or larger tomes. One such person looks up from their book, and in a flash is up and talking to you.
"Hullo!" the little creature in red leggings and a dark-gray cloak squeaks. On instinct, you reach for your moneybag, but then realize that this is no regular Kender. The small thing smiles brightly, "I am Sphefairia of Kendermore. I'm an aide here at the Great Library." The Kender is obviously a female, and a strange one at that. You have never heard of a Kender who actually spent time in a Library - let alone being an aide!
"You can stop gawking, you know," Sphefairia says, almost impatiently. "I'm a Kender Scholar, but I've bet you've never heard of one. That's all right, neither have I!" Smiling, she turns, expecting you to follow, and heads through a door in the wall on the farthest side of the chamber. The door opens to the center of the Library. A flight of wooden stairs head down to the floor which contains scores of bookshelves and hundreds of books. Ranging from all sizes and all kinds of binders, the room is littered with tables and chairs where space can be found to read and ponder. Eleven other doors like the one you stand by now are spaced along the fringes of the oval-shaped chamber, all of them apparently heading out to side rooms like the one you just passed through.
The walls of this room are also covered in etchings and carvings, and the ceiling raises to a wide dome at the top. The woodwork is finely accompanied by a solid rust-colored rock that holds well and is pleasing to the eye. "Boy, you sure do like to stare a lot! We get a lot like you here," the Kender says again, constantly smiling.
"You can go anywhere you'd like, read anything you like. If you see any guys or gals in brown robes tending to the books, say hello! They're the aesthetics, and they are constantly working to keep the Library operating and expanding." With a nod, a smile, a flash of gray cloak, and a click of the door, the Kender is gone.
You make your way down the stairs and into the expansive library. The aroma of parchment and leather bindings is sweet. Passing a few visitors, giving a welcome nod to each, you make your way to a row where a brown robed aesthetic is carefully tending to a quite empty shelf. The man turns to you, and nods cordially, turning back to his work of stacking some new black leather-bound books onto the shelf. The man has snowy white hair, complimented by an equally white moustache, and a weathered old face that seems to glow with kindness. In the midst of his work, he says, "This shelf is full of the work of those right here at the Citadel. It's great stuff, only the best, but we're always looking for more to add to it." He speaks in a half-whisper, his voice reminding you surprisingly of your own grandfather's.
Smiling, he looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. "So why don't you take a seat, get comfortable, and read some of these? I don't keep them presentable for nothing, you know." You smile back and turn to look at the rather small collection of works. There are just a few books there, each bound with dark leather with white or silver writing. Running your hand over the smooth leather, the books seem to come alive, calling you to read their words of misty enchantment...
Charge by Marc Dotson - Trianus is a young Knight of Solamnia, ready to battle all the
evil in the world. He travels with a caravan of knights and pages as they make their
way to North Keep in the dark days of the War of the Lance.
Upon drawing a close to one of the stories, your eyes turn heavenward; in curiosity, and maybe a little reverence. The beautifully derived carvings spread across the slightly-domed ceiling are a site to see. The masterpiece that hangs over you shows a great globe - a world - hanging in the midst of multitude of glittering stars. Near the world stand a group of beings overlooking it. There are seven of them, and each separate face is full of compassion and love for the world.
You smile and move your eyes away from the site. Placing the book you were reading back on the shelf, you start to make your way further into the forest of shelves and parchment. After taking a few steps, you hear a low voice slowly saying lines of poetry. Coming around the corner of a book shelf, you see a dwarven man with a large tome in his hands. Small spectacles are perched on his bulbous nose, and his weathered hands are carefully going over the page in an effort to keep place.
The brown-robed dwarf starts as he finds you looking at him. "Excuse me," he says in a very heavy Thorbardin accent, "I didn't realize you were standing there." You smile, and introduce yourself. "I am Splint of the Urkhan Sea," he follows. "So we have another visitor. Good, good. I guess you haven't had the chance to read up on some of our poetry. Great stuff, great stuff." He hands you a tome from the bookshelf and brandishes a grin. "Please, have a seat. Nothing from Quivalen Soth, but it raises the emotions just as well."
Remembered Grace - Marc DotsonSpells Thoughts of peace come easily in this quiet and reverent place. The spirit of the room is one of pondering, exploration, knowledge, and pure intent. Nowhere else in all of Krynn have you found a place so devoted to Good, to improving the world, and striving towards peace as the Citadel - and the Library is a large portion of that legacy. Taking a deep breath of the aromatic library air, you once again come to your feet and start walking through the rows of shelves.
The room seems to dim to a mystic gray as you fall within the proximity of a certain area of the Library. There are few lights here, for some reason, and it seems particularly empty. Startled, you start through the shelves to a meadow-like clearing in the forest of shelves. A large wooden table is placed in the very center, adding another strange sensation arching up your back. This was the middle of the library, usually the tables and chairs were farther out, skirting the edges to provide a better setting and illumination, but here was the table in the unnatural dimness. A figure suddenly appears from a row of shelves across from you. You don't start, but he does. The human looks young, in his twenties, and as he gathers up his dropped scrolls, he mutters in the voice of a scholar or an aethstetic, "Excuse me, I was surprised to see you standing there. Usually I feel the person approaching." You look at him with eyes full of wonder. What was he talking about? Seeing your look, he quickly covered up. "Oh, I'm sorry, perhaps I should explain. This is where I study the volumes of magic spells contained in the library. It's almost like my private corner of the Citadel, but apparently not so." Seeing that you understand as you turn to leave, he cries out, "No!" in a voice that seems too sharp and loud in the library. The voice doesn't echo, as you thought it would. "Please," he covers up again, "Sometimes my private corner is too private. Would you like to stay and look over a few scrolls and tomes with me?" Submissions You come upon a small counter at the back of the Library - across from where you first entered. Behind the counter stand a few aesthetics who are quickly sorting and adding their collection of tomes on the counter to the ones already in the Library. Asking a question as to what they are doing, they eagerly answer, "This is where anyone may submit there own works to be added to the Library. Do you have anything?"