Do you remember the time of old, the age’d age of yore?

Where mythos and fae still roamed the world, both Inner and Outer?

When flow hath not been a mere echo, but grew ever louder?

Those times, when magicks and miracles were two sides of one core.

Those days when dest’ny was written in the sky among the stars;

When shamans and chieftains narrated dreams and carved scars.

A time best known for heroes all-powerful – those who swore

To defend their peoples. Oh, those legends one can’t find no more!

The story known and famous to boot: After all, who knows not

The tale of Stonehand, of the rebellion? The pain they endured?

Alas, with each age passing along, as these frigid lands matured

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

And we, chroniclers, gone with them. Now share I (thus goes the plot):

We shall begin at the very start, though not too early still;

For the legends track far, wide and beyond our meagre thrill.

Nay! We go to the ‘Eve of the Trial’, the ending of a rot

That the Innerworld made sick. The Sisters finally to an end wrought.

But pray tell, I hear you say! What crime did the Sisters commit?

For now – listen, and listen well, I bid thee! ‘Tis not a story

One can take lightly! That tale stretches far and speaks of folly.

In due time, we shall come to it, this tale of treachery and wit.

With this my voice becomes the voice of legend and mine no more,

And through me, these words shall flow and sing of this ancient lore!

No longer can we wait. So, listen to this scene moonlit

And perchance we finish by nightfall if our luck would have it!