Welcome, weary travellers. Come close, and gather to the fire. This is a time for tales old and new, told by only the light of the pale moon as we wait for the crow of the cockerel and the dawning of another day. Come close, and listen to the tale I will tell, one full of magic and mystery. You see, not far from this fire there is a path, and not far from that path there is a field, and not far from that field there is a forest. A forest so tall the trees seem to touch the sky, a forest so deep it seems to stretch all of Christendom, a forest so green and lush that it seems to whisper to you with its very leaves. Everyone knows that a forest is a place of Magicks; a place of transformation and treachery; of lovesick wandering and charmed romance. In the woods, all are equal: prince and peasant boy, it is all the same to the trees and those who live amongst them.
Come close, and I will tell the tale of four travellers just like yourself: Draec, Ealric, Rowara and Veric.
All were brave. All were bold. All were loyal. All were true. But only one of them was heartbroken.
