There’s a chill in the air. The kind of feeling you get walking alone near still water. The rustle in the hedgerow that stops the birds singing. The strange stone you’re sure wasn’t there yesterday.

Whispers are rising from the woods. Teeth glint beneath the surface. And laughter - high and brittle - drifts between the trees.

A new force is preparing to enter the Realm. Best keep your boots dry and your eyes sharp.