“ There was a Beggar he was starring at me as if he is going to kill me but as I get nearer and nearer I found out his resisting something I don't know what but his really resisting something something un explainable and then I saw a knife on his hand and I though his going to kill me but when he raises the knife and then he stoped and said 'run child' that I knew his resisting himself' his blood thirsty self, to stop, to stop killing people at the other day when I go were he was I saw him lying DEAD! and I saw a knife stabed strait throught the heart and that knife was the one he tried to stab on me last day and I knew he KILLED HIMSELF because its the only way to get out of his problems...”
“ The Wizard-Brewers of the Old Empire stored memories in bottles of mead, passing their brightest ideas, most subtle magics, and most important decisions on to their heirs in bottles of oddly-flavored honey-wine. A cache of these ancient magical vintages has been unearthed, but does anyone dare drink from it? The ancient mead's creator is a complete mystery, as are the thoughts he left behind.”
“ '...the Ilthian mountains. A craggie masse of rock rysing from the Ilth'n plaines. The waters whych springe from it are ful of godeness and fortyfie those who drynk them [+1 STR]. Alas the vyle beasts resydent in these hills also bathe in these waters, and in the doing gain great strength. Foes mortallie wounded have bene known to flee, onlie to return, revytalised houres later...' - Chronicler Eamusil, Mondopedia, Vol XV (The Lands of Sylmen)”