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Where to begin.. Perhaps with the tavern I now sit in, and of which one of the patrons has been kind enough to provide me this sketch:


I have sat here on a number of occasions, quitely watching people come and go, pretending that they came from distant places on some grand adventure. The monks of course always told me I was foolish for such fancies, it is ironic that they now plan to send me off on one. But they were also right, we live here in an artificial world, with an artificial sun in an artificial sky. Even the dates I put in my journal are more of a guess than real dates. Nothing changes here and no one new visits the tavern.

The village itself, or perhaps it should now be called a small town, is divided into five sections, with streets poking out like spokes from a wheel. While there are residences out among the hills that surround it, one for each of the traditional elemental clans, there is also a large body of people that live within the village as well.


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