“ It is said by the village gray beards Of Breen, that the band of human exiles who founded their prosperous farming settelment almost a century ago,had to fight a long,savage struggle with the original inhabitants of the fertile valley;monstrous trolls that saw the new arrivals as meals, rather than as potential neighbours.After 5 long years, the humans with their superior steel weapons, drove the troll tribe into the bleak highlands and hills sourounding the valley.But as time passed, the old tale begun to become legend, rather than history and is regarded by most, as a mere story used by parents to frighten disobediant children.And yet the village leaders have always forbidden their people from wandering the hills....”
“ During big fights in the arena or gladitorial ring between two well known or important warriors. When one looses and dies, the crowd throws copper coins into the arena for the slain warrior to take with them on their passage of death. This is to make their passage and afterlife richer and less troubled. It is a sign of respect.”
“ By late afternoon, the sky starts to cloud over. The sun shines behind the fluffy clouds, gilding the edges and showing a Jacob's-ladder of rays streaming through the gaps...very pretty. Gradually the clouds shift into a new configuration: you realize with awe-struck, preternatural clarity that the clouds form a map of a coast-line that you know, against the blue sky as ocean: surely it's a Sign! Suddenly, the golden beams coalesce into one long ray that strikes across the blue. A star-like gleam flashes under the ray: perhaps it is an island? But the charts show no island there...who would want to hide an island? Who could do it?”
