As you, the Sovereign of whatever Kingdom or Empire it may be that you rule, are walking along the halls of one of your Great Libraries, you lazily allow your eyes to scan the rows and shelves of endless books, texts and scrolls which line the walls. Clearly, nothing seems to pique your interest and you scoff arrogantly at the pitiful scholars who waste away in these dusty halls, pouring over tomes and texts that were written more than a century ago. Still, you also realise the importance of letting these old coots study these archives, as it is undoubtedly beneficial to rediscover things that may advance your schemes in the future. As you round a corner, bumping into a lowly subject who falls to his knees, kisses your toes and begs forgiveness, you come across a relatively empty bookshelf. This shelf, littered with cobwebs and what looks like mold, holds but a single, ill-kept and poorly managed book. It is a rather large tome, with hard leather covers and iron bindings, it seems to have been written entirely on parchment, as the pages are not white or matted grey. Curious, you approach and grasp the text from its seat, looking down upon the barely readable letters that make out the title. 

Lord Xaltazador's Great Guide of Strategic Brilliance.

Unfamiliar with this "Lord Xaltazador", you sit down to read his work in the hopes of gaining new military in-sight and knowledge. Little did you know that this Lord Xaltazador was nothing more than a petty Sovereign who lived some fifty years prior to writing this book and that neither he, nor any of his cities or people, still live. You dump the heavy book down upon a nearby table and take your seat in a creaky, whiney chair. It is an uncomfortable sitting and you make a mental note to scold the Head Librarian for not adding cushions to the seat. You shake your head at the matter and instead turn to the book, clasping onto the heavy cover with one hand and opening it... You begin to read...

Lord Xaltazador's Great Guide of Strategic Brilliance - A Manual on Warfare for all Sovereigns.

Chapter I - Proper Priorities in the Wasteland: 
- It is a well-known fact that us, Sovereigns, initially all set out on our own, and it is by our hand that the crown of our kingdoms are made! But you must not let this get to your head. Surely, taking care of your fledgeling-city-to-be is important, but what is far more important is to scout any and all grounds around you, preferbly a fair, long distance away from your settlement! Oh, do not fret about leaving them guardless and helpless, I am certain that they will be quite alright, fending off wolves and bandits and what not! After all, if you do not scout out and around now, you might find that you and your people will end up like snacks for a nest of Shrills in the coming months!

You question the wisdom in leaving your newly-founded settlement unattended and unguarded, but perhaps the world was a different place back when the author still lived? You shake your head and read on...

Chapter II - Basics of the Basic:
- It is every Channelers' duty to know the very basics! And the most basic of basic is that Quanity will always triumph over Quality! That is right, you do not need to concern yourself with trivial matters such as equipping your soldiers with fanciful and expensive equipment, no need to have your precious smiths slave away at the anvils making swords and spears and axes or hammers! Allow them to focus on more dire needs, like cutlery and pans! You can never have enough pans! - But back to soldiers! Early on as your nation begins to come together, realise that your people are the greatest asset you have! Furthemore, having a horde of them following you around or travelling the Wastes will surely quell and intimidate any hostile forces you encounter! So go on, use those precious gildars and equip as many of your good peasants as you can with clubs! No need to worry about anything else, you will have enough of them to kill your enemies with the sheer amount of corpses you will leave behind after each battle!

You now glare in annoyance at the silly notion that someone would send out unarmored and under-equipped peasantry to fight their battles. Though you are intrigued by the idea of killing your enemies with a sea of rotting, disease-festering corpses, you are pretty confident and clear that you would prefer those corpses to not be the remains of your own followers... Placing your hand against your forehead, you keep on reading...

Chapter III - Arcane Acknowledgement:
- As we all know, Channelers are the only souls left in our wretched, twisted and desolated world who can wield the powers of magic! That is right, we alone hold the ability to channel the magic from the Shards in which those Titans imprisoned all the worlds mana (Curse them!!). As such, it is important to realise the importance of your spell-powers! But remember, you mustn't waste time on petty things such as learning how to cast a simple bolt of ice or how to call down a lonesome streak of lightning! No, even if you are not in possession of one of the temples or do not have any monasteries, remember to always, always, keep pushing your knowledge within magic higher! Always aim for the top! Never stop! Even if your spellbook is as blank as the brains of a Skath, you must never cease to unlock more spells!

You question the wisdom in researching endless amounts of spells, only to never actually learn them. And even worse, suggesting to do so without the proper resources and tools would be a painstakingly slow and unproductive way to spend your time. You now begin to question the actual contents of the book and its author, but you decide to give it one more chance before ordering it to be thrown into the fireplace...

Chapter VI - Song for the Strong, Whip for the Weak:
- It is of course clear to us all that the world, even in this horrible form, has a place and position for everyone. Even though there are creatures far, far higher up in the wasteland-food-chain than ourselves, there is something much more dangerous around. Yes, I am talking of course of the Empires and Kingdoms that came before you, before us! Those who are already well-established and have a strong grip on the lands they dominate. So how do we deal with these imposing and possibly dangerous behemoths who could squish us under their thumb? Easy! Suck up! Suck up as much as you can, bury your nose as far and as deep into their - the following words of the sentence have been scribbled over for some reason - and make sure to always stay on their good side! If they ask for your gildars, go ahead, no harm done! If they demand you wed off one of your offspring? Sure, go ahead, you can always make more! If they order you to wipe their boots, do it, you may even compliment their tailor while you are at it! - Similarily, should you encounter one of those small, pesky and neglected so-called "settlements" out there, those belonging to the stubborn Orekeepers, crazed Snathi or misguided Yorel, do not concern yourself with them. Merely mow them down like wheat to a scythe and claim their lands for your own! Nobody will miss them... Ha ha ha...

At last! Something that amkes some kind of sense and reason! Still, you cannot help but grit your teeth and clench your fists at the smug and down-putting way the author formulated himself. You make a snarky remark to yourself that you could have put it far more eloquently. Still, relieved that the book at least contained something not outlandishly foolish, you press on to read the final chapter...

Chapter V: Marriage, spouses and offspring, and how they can all benefit you:
- Ahh yes, the marriage... I myself recall the day I got married to my lovely Sophia, a charming girl who strolled by one of my towns on her way in-throughout the Wastes. She was a travelling peddler of sorts I think, she claimed to be good at gathering gildars... Sad that she couldn't fend off that warg-pack on her own in the later years of her life... I suppose mortals do grow weaker around their eighties... No matter! You want to know the details about getting married, what it entails and how siring a bucket-load of shrieking teat-sucklers will benefit you! It is quite easy and rather simple! First,, grab hold of the first, best and utterly complete stranger (of the opposite sex, preferbly) who strolls by your settlement! Do not worry about developing a relationship or any kind of bonds or respects, such things can be dealt with later! Offer them your ring and get the whole ceremony over with, should they refuse, go out into the Wastes and slay some things/people and bring back their respective heads to show and ascertain how manly you are! Once wed, head straight for the bed-chambers, no dilly-dallying wiith romance or serenades or other such trife! Get down to business and... - Several of the pages from here on out seem to have been ripped out - And that is how you do it!

Now, remember! As soon as you, or your spouse, have spat out the first whiney pumpkin-head, get straight to work on the next one! No time for rest and relaxation! Pump them out until your Palace smells enough of urchin-poo to stave off even those skulking and encroaching darklings! Now, to the actual beneficial part! As soon as your child can walk, talk and stand up straight, get to work on finding him or her a spouse and ship them off! Send them right and left! Need a peace-offering? Give them your daughter! Need to improve relations? Send them a son! Need to say You are sorry for burning down their farms? Send one of each! You can never go wrong with a living, breathing gift! Oh, and do not worry about sending them to your arch-rivals and hated foes in exchange for peace. Yes, I know they may have burnt down your villages and put your soldiers up on pikes after the battles, but once you give a gal or groom away, all is forgiven! Right...? I mean, I am sure they would not send your child back to your borders, at the head of their armies and lead an unstoppable onslaught upon your realms... I am sure!

You feel a sudden, twitching feeling along one of your temples as you slam the book's cover shut and order a scribe to your side. Steam blowing out of the collar of your robe, you order the minion to dispose of the book and scatter its remains to the four winds. With a grump you stand, knocking your chair to the ground and walk off with a loud huff! Now you are hungry, and you feel like your intelligence just might have dropped a little after reading that rubbish!