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I will not insult the intelligence of my reader. Therefore I must take care that I avoid the pitfall that is so evident in the journals of less talented historians. I must remember that my readers enjoy the privilege of citizenship in our great empire, praise the Emperor, where education, literacy, culture, and the other like gifts of a great society are common.
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I will not insult my reader; I need not remind that the Worlde is a varied and wondrous place. , Home to fell dragons, icy wastes, goblin hordes, elder forests, chivalrous knights, monstrous aberrations, courtly giants, and endless variations of peoples and lands.
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My good readers know that the cradle of civilization and the heart of human lands bestride that large and tempestuous sea called Hawkmoor Bay, that the vital city of Argent, the great and imperial city stands upon the shore of that sea. I shall forgo my desire to write at length about the ancient home of the elven people where it lies north of our empire and deep within the endless Forest of Solitude, there the eternal Court of the Seelie Queen exists both in this realm and in another.
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That the vast mountain chains which divide the known world, extending from the frozen northern coasts far, far south for thousands of leagues and eventually crumble into the blasted sands of the Shadow Waste, this mighty mountain range named the World-Spine is already well known to my good readers.
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I mustn't fall into an endless discourse on the culture and nature of the dwarves dwelling far west in the Iron Mountains and their great masterwork; the stonedwelve city-keep named Gorn.
Some familiarity is assumed, at least in tales and myths about the trackless expanse of the Brooding Jungle, the dark and primeval forest that engulfs much of the land in its steamy patience south of the Dwarven Mountains. I will waste no time here to discuss the "Roakol", the nomadic tribes of savage horsemen who dwell in the steppe lands far south and east of Argent. Their warlike, horse centered culture is not a topic I need discuss here.
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Neither should I bore my gentle reader with discussion of the strange oriental cultures nor peoples found on the many scattered islands in the West Sea, nor the gray eyed, fair-haired, northern barbarians who ply the icy seas at the top of the world.
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.No, I will skip the basic, common knowledge all men of culture share. The good reader is aware of the common knowledge of our world, but most citizens of our great empire do not know of the elven desert tribes called the Suza'ar Siia. Who live in the shifting, lifeless sands deep in the Shadow Wastes, or of the towering fortress of good, the Cathedral of Light that rises heavenward atop a mountain crest in the snow covered peaks of the World-Spine Mountains.
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Did you know of the Far Watch; a council of the eldest titans of sky and storm who meet in a secret and hallowed place once each century to discuss the fate of the land?
Or that many tens of thousands of tormented spirits wander lost and forlorn in the millennia old ruined land called the Ancient Dells?
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There is an endless potential of facts and stories in our world, a challenge in recording and cataloging suited to the genius and gilded pen of Eugene Ebeneezer Quillsworthy.
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