It is said that out of all human follies, a sense of justice and righteousness is the worst. As if humans were the one and only arbiters of the world. As if humans were unbiased in filling their pockets with gold, and washing their hands in their own blood. Only to ever wonder why the stains do not fade. Indeed, wondering why they grow darker the more they wash. The sense of justice, the sense of righteousness, within humans is a dangerous seed. For the moment that that seed take root, the moment the vines of justice begin to creep through the earth of the soul, beware. Nothing can stand against humans deluded with…purpose. Not even gods.
Here lies a tale of a place long forgotten. And as the pages creak with every turning you will find that this tale is , in itself, an arbitration of sorts. A judgement on all that has passed. Reader, know that this is not a tale of heroes and great deeds. It is a tale of humans. And such tales are never the lofty things we imagine them to be. Tales involving humans are never simple, never neat, and never pure. They are corrupted to the core, and while that may indeed turn some aside, for few like the truth. Let is embolden you, let it give you strength knowing that while the truth is indeed a curse, it may also be a blessing. In the tales of gods and men, the truth is the last thing revealed.
Reader, behind these pages lies the Saga of Eurwa, in all its vain corrupted glory. May you find a glimmer of hope, and a nugget of truth.
(The start of chapter one)
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