It is midnight on Talking Island. Blood pledge knights keep watch over the sleeping townsfolk, but not all is normal on this fair island.

"The knights fell silent, eyes darting along the forest edge as their attention turned back to their long, cold patrol. In the distance, goblins chattered late night calls through the underbrush. Occasionally the forest growth rustled quickly, pushed aside by a darting tiny green hand. Ignored by the knights, the goblins were merely a nuisance to be endured - certainly not worth interrupting the night watch.

At last, Lochlyn spoke.

"You have…" he hesitated briefly, "heard the tales? From the North?"

She whirled to face him, eyes bright and angry in the moonlight. "

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