The Encyclopedia of Early Earth

Winter is the time for stories, staying fast by the glow of fire. And outside, in the darkness, the stars are brighter than you can possibly imagine.

Follow your gut, Storyteller, it will lead to your happy ending.

In the beginning there was nothing, only time. But since there was no one to count the time, there might as well have been nothing. And then there was an egg. Don't ask how it got there, OK.

They have a complicated saying that likens snow to love." "It speaks of the beauty and the harshness, of watching a perfect flake land on bare skin and melt away in an instant. Of the soft powder giving way underfoot and the creeping chill of ice in your bones turning your lips blue and your fingertips black. Of terrible pain and delirious joy.

Had they known the difficulties that were to befall them, they might not have been so rash in falling in love. But perhaps there was no way of avoiding it. Fate, karma, the will of the Gods… call it what you like, it was surely meant to happen. After all, in all the vastness of the Universe they had been thrown together.

A woman scored is pretty bad, but a G-d scorned is quite another.

A woman scored is pretty bad, but a G-d scored is quite another.

As the Frozen Sea gave way to open ocean, and the land of Nord had long been eaten up by the horizon, the Storyteller felt his heart soar. Behind him lay the old and sacred stories of his people. But in front were new stories, to be lived and learned.

Would you recognize yourself if you saw yourself standing before you? They did, they knew in an instant.