Kythkyn

A queer mist rolls over the field, pouring out from the strange dark forest. The moon, full, shines down though only partially illuminates the field and its fog. Thick clouds roll overhead, obscuring the moon's light now and then on this otherwise crisp, cool autumn night. "This is an age of reason," she mutters to herself. The towne's people warned her that the forest was haunted, that it is a place that must be avoided. She thought them fools. Backwater, superstitious fool. The fog rolls toward her, forcing her to wade through the thick white mist. It is cold as it cascades around her leather clad legs, sending a shiver up her spine. Her d