It is the year of our Lord one thousand one hundred and ninety-seven. The Lord Rhys — Rhys ap Gruffydd, Prince of Wales — has died suddenly after a show of great military might against the Normans. His body was laid to rest unsanctified by the white Christ’s priests, and now the land itself seems restless and full of strange energy.

You have always heard it whispered that your bloodline, like Rhys’, was touched by the old magic. Nursemaid’s tales and folklore seem unnaturally compelling to you in these changing times, though none can fully explain the sense that you have forgotten some very great truth. You have your own power, it is true, of blood and flesh and will, but there is always something other as well, and it is that which seems to surge within you.

Something is happening. Something is coming. Something is ending.


NEW! (4/22/12) First story seeds are going out May 1.

Oaths of Britain

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