For father Winter still lurks beside our path, like a death sentence unperformed.

chapter IV

High Stake Hollow

Pencilstrikes, forced on the descriptive parchment of our pilgrimage. Dry sands stir up dust as our shackled boots bewander a windswept plain. The slit of our pen runs dry, yet the moist throats of our custodians crave to herald the fourth Chapter in a grim recital. And in the darkest hour before the dawn we see eye to eye, Queen of the Council.

chapter III

Devil's Brew

As black ink flows across the old parchment that records legacy, our third Chapter is written in silence. The rhythmic sound of our pencils dipping in dark fluid, mimics the steady ticking of time itself. We tend to wander in a tranquil pace, yet our endless thoughts are rudely disturbed by the hoarse rasps of black birds flapping their wings as they circle our heads. Crows, birds of mischief.

chapter II

Pursuit

Encrypted in ink and image, the second Chapter in the unparalleled story that is ours. With solitude as our only companion, reality shifts within it's boundaries. Only solid determination and the confidence of a continent can dapperly bridge the gap towards truth. And so; with our bristly beards bound to the gentle breeze and our aim set to the horizon, we solitary wanderers keep an unswerving pace.

chapter I

We, Who Wander

Written here, is the first Chapter in the extraordinary story that is ours. Veiled by solitude and fed by curiosity, we Cavemen bewander our earthly plains in a slow and cumbersome pace. By fate, there are times in which paths cross and we encounter dapperness at first hand. In these moments, bearded brotherhood is dapperly embraced by an unseen handshake.