Before you lies a large, dusty book. It’s cover is a dull brown, made of leather and reinforced with iron plates. You brush your hand across its surface, your fingers carving lines in the dust. The surface is rough to the touch, old scars and stains stretching and scratching the cover like an alien planet.
Ornate letters with read centers and golden lings, spell out, “The Legends of the Geistlands. This title is also inscribed in the binder along the side.
You undo the clasp, and open the lexicon, and dust cakes the dim light from the candle on your desk. The smell of must assaults your nose, rising from the yellow-brown pages before you. The book is handwritten, thin black ink illustrating spidery cursive figures, which scrawls back and forth across this parchment landscape.
You flip to the first page, and begin reading.
You see, dear reader, this is not your ordinary old tome. This isn’t simply some ancient Shakespear compendium or a long forgotten dictionary. This is something older, more archaic, more mysterious. Before you lies a collection of tales, poems, nursery rhymes, hymes, documents, and other pieces of literature from a far away and ancient land. It has traveled far to arrive on your desk. It traveled by cart, by boat, by foot, from owner to owner before landing here, in your study. Many hands have flipped the pages you now flip, many fingers folded and unfolded these damaged corners, many eyes ran across these words you now read.
You are simply the next in a long line of souls to learn the secrets that hide in these pages.
Within these pages lie tales of adventure and horror. They are populated by spirit knights and loyal canines, scheming magicians and corrupt rulers, spectral deities and haunted puppets. Geists, hobblewalks, animated spoons, indestructible pins. These are but a fraction of the mysteries that await you. All but a page turn away.
So, dear reader, what are you waiting for?
Welcome to the Geistlands.
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