Hail, Noble One! Our land is in need of a stalwart hero, one who will brave perils horrific to consider. A plague has befallen
the Realm, a scourge is upon the land! Our villages lie sacked, ruinous mounds of ashes where once trod peasants stout of heart
and sound of mind, where once lay fields of grain and fruit, where kine and fowl grew fat upon the bounties of our fair Sosaria.
All manner of wicked and vile creatures prey upon our people and ravage the land. 'Tis the doing of one so evil that the very earth
trembles at the mention of his name.
Mondain the wizard hath wrought his malice well. Our nobles bicker amongst themselves, and each hath retired to the confines of his
keep in hopes of watching the downfall of his rivals. Verily, the Evil One hath heaped indignity upon curse by releasing upon the Realm
a host of creatures and beasts so bloodthirsty and wicked that our defenseless people fall as grain before the reaper's scythe. These
denizens of the underworld hold sway over all that can be surveyed, save for the strongholds of the nobles besotted with their own
ambition. Nowhere in our once peaceful country may a traveler find safe passage or lodging, save in the keeps of the self-proclaimed
kings - - and they demand hard labors for their indulgences.
Only the young Lord British remains steadfast in the vision of a peaceful and united Sosaria. In his castle and his towne the pure of
heart will find an ally and replenishment for the needs of one who hath chosen to fight for the Realm. Aid us in ridding our land of
the scourge that hath befallen us, O Noble One. We beseech thee, for without thine aid we shall surely perish before the onslaught of
the maleficent necromancer. Slay the evil Mondain!
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