Prologue
1st Elventide, winter 1795 ad (after Doon)
A thick snow carpeted the field, though the fall had ceased some hours before. It now rested like a work complete. Like deep frosting on an endless cake, concealing all. Hiding who knew what beneath.
A boy threw a stick. His wolfhound fetched it. A tried and tested game. A scene familiar throughout ages.
And yet, there was something different here. Something wrong… Read More »