Promise, land of the proud and perfect beings. Land where any being can reach for the stars and be whatever he or she wants to be. Don't you believe it. Don't you believe it for a minute. I've read that, so called, writing. What you have to remember is that they're all royalty, or paid by royalty. Of course the world looks perfect from their end. But what about the common man? What about the rest of us? That is why I am writing this. I will leave my name off of this paper, if you do not mind, or even if you do. I have no interest in gaining special interest for speaking the truth.

Let's start with the clans. They aren't as all encompassing as they like to say. You line up ten random people that aren't rich merchants or nobles and two of them didn't bother to sign up for a clan. And of the eight that did, five of them don't much care if you're an apostate if you're paying with good coin and you're not causing trouble. You aren't going to become the next high prophet as an apostate, but you can make a living no matter how many pretentious snobs claim there's only room for clanned people.

Then you have the soulless. A bunch of dangerous freaks with the powers of gods. Lots of them end up working for the people with the money, good on them. The rest prey on us common folk. You want to know fear? Get waylaid by a soulless in the dark of night. Half the time they don't leave witnesses, and you can just forget about fighting them. They have the talents and power of ten men. You'll be roasted, frozen and sliced apart before you can finish hitting the ground. Mark these words, you watch out for them.

Which leads to the shadow. The nobles speak of a brave and unified war against them. It sounds great on paper, but who has to go between towns, or into the forest, or out to sea or fields to make a living? Not them. Every time another good being is devoured from the inside out it is another injustice heaped on us by an aristocracy more concerned with their idealism than actually saving us.

We would be able to defend ourselves if we were allowed our birthright. Outside of Cliffside, if you want to learn any magic at all, you have to be rich, or the kid of a rich person. When the shadows are busy tearing their war path, what do we have? Pitchforks? Sticks? I've seen a man try to fight the feral way against them, biting and scratching. The shadows pulled him apart for his troubles. Give us magic. We deserve the right to defend ourselves.

Now, don't get me wrong. We're not all without. There are good people, teaching magic to other commoners. Some of them charge for it, not always money. Favors go a long way outside the rules and regulations of the nobles and church. I'd tell you where to find them, but that would just ensure trouble for them. I respect them too much for that. Open your eyes, you'll find them if you need them bad enough. There's a lot of trade going on in every city that wouldn't be approved of by the guilds or the kings, queens, presidents, or whatever else is in charge. You want some trance root? How about some crushed toxbloom petal? You won't find it in the proper marketplace, but it's all over the underground, where we live on despite their rules and lack of care.

You want to make it in Promise? Keep your ears up, eyes open, and read between the lines. If you're reading this, you're already a half step ahead.