Let it be recorded, in the year of this raven's writing, that the Citadel Chronicle throws wide its doors. What began as a novice's untidy stack of parchment has been bound, indexed, and set upon the shelves — a reader's archive of the written histories of Westeros, assembled from the books and the books alone.
Within these walls you will find the long timeline that runs from the Dawn Age to the last page yet published; the ladder of kings who have worn the Iron Throne and the years they held it; the great houses and their tangled roots; the dragons, named and numbered; the wars, the prophecies, and a reading order to guide the newcomer safely from the first chapter to the last. Each entry is drawn from Martin's own volumes and the histories he has set down — no rumor of the mummers' stage is passed off as truth here.
The Chronicle speaks in ten tongues. Whether your mother taught you the Common Speech, the languages of the Free Cities and beyond, or the scripts of lands the maesters map only faintly, the archive will greet you in your own words. A raven carries the same message to every roost.
For those who dread the spoiling of a tale untold, we have hung a veil. Any revelation that belongs to the unwritten volumes — matters no published book has yet confirmed — waits behind the Spoiler Shield, and you may lift it only when you wish. Read as cautiously or as boldly as suits you; the choice is left in your hand, not ours.
One vow above all others binds this order: we keep the book-canon, and we serve no master but the reader's curiosity. The Chronicle is an unofficial labor of love, sworn to no lord and endorsed by none. Come in from the cold. The braziers are lit, the ink is fresh, and the ravens are already circling.