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Peace.
It has been called the Golden Age. None in living memory have ever recalled such a great time as this. Kings are just. Crops are bountiful. People are alive.
Yet no peace may last forever. Dark times have been foretold by the High Prophets. Shadows grow longer, and the Nights grow colder. A strange wind has begun blowing, and only our Adventurers will know how it all turns out.

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Burn the Living Malvain