Thirty years ago, we though the world had been discovered in its entirety. We thought peace (if you can call it that) had at last been won between the various city-states, nation, empires, and races. Of course, we were quite wrong.
A few drunken sailors later we realize the world we knew is only part of the world that is. The plants and animals we have domesticated are mere shadows of the ancient beasts the roam the New World, and who knows what else is yet to be discovered?
I would go myself, but my bones are frail and my muscles worn through. That is why I am sending you. I have been watching you for sometime, and see something of my youth in you. I have dreams about the New World, though I have never seen it, and I know that your presence there will shape history.
Just be always vigilant about the kind of history you create.
This ticket will get you across the sea on Junebud. Don’t lose it; I’m counting on you.
Your anonymous benefactor