O Weary Prowler, traverser of words.  Do ye tire and lose interest in the scrolls of endless scribes that tell the dry tales of Systems? Of modern men who traverse through time and space to arrive in fantastical worlds where they reap naught but crude adventures? Of tasteless worlds with no intrigue, failing to grasp thy brains? If that be the case, hearken unto me, O Prowler! Let me appeal to thy desire for adventure and darkness, bringing thee into the world of LEASTRIA, where ye shall follow the story of foul men born from distorted shadow! Where selfish Stars toy with fate from their Odd Demesnes! Where the Enlightened, the Sorcerers, the Cradlers and the Genuine Accursed roam and rend the Sheltered Lands with their obscene lust and greed! Where ye shall follow the story of the Cursed Child as he seeks ‘The Bringing’ and rises from meagrehood to significance under thy eyes. Hearken unto my voice and begin this tale, if ye fear not to dive into untold mythologies. Do ye dare, O Prowler, to lose thyself in true Fantasy?