It was a dark and stormy night, as the Druid returned from the forest and entered a cottage where under the ancient hearthstone guarded by the a small eternal fire it was hidden. The most precious thing to any Druid had ever lived would perhaps be his tonight. For one that was over 100 years old, it was odd to stand and sake with boyhood fear. He was a Druid that could kill quicken than the Adder and disappear in magick mist at a simple flick of the wrist. Yet now cold sweat began to fog his glasses. The eyes were always the first thing to to fail in a Druid. He gently lifted them off his face. For these were very special glasses, that allowed one to see through any glamor and even of the dead. They had been made in the land of Fae. From crystal gold and coated in Fae lead. Yet to the human eye they looked clear as the finest crystal glass and would sparkle in the Sun. Still his fear now was not unjust, as he looked...