Well met, traveler.

You have been wandering for days, keeping time by nothing but the rise and fall of the moons. A stone tower rises from the horizon. It seems ancient, nearly etheric, and the ache in your tired mind dissipates as you trek toward the structure. Cool, damp air soothes the sun-weariness of your skin. You are surprised to find fires lit in a hearth inside, assuming this relic to be abandoned. Countless shelves are lined with books, scrolls, and loose parchment. Many are written in languages unidentifiable, but inexplicably you find yourself understanding every stroke.