The 13th age of Midgard
Courts of the Shadow Fey
Some say the world is white and blank. Others say the world is a black abyss. Half black, half white. Half sorrow, half joy. Half living, half a ghost. The Realm of Shadows is neither one thing nor another; it is a place of halves.
One may think of it as half regret, half done, half dead. But it is just as fair to say half rich, half cured, half won. The shadows are a place of neither pure evil nor pure good but only that muddle where true balance lies, where lives are rich and sad and complicated. Half villains and half heroes who strive but never win. But who never quite lose.
The wind is chill with the promise of winter, the trade fair has closed up for the year, and the last of the dwarf caravans have struck home for the Ironcrags before the passes are snowed in. The city settles into the quieter rhythm of late autumn and awaits winter’s first frost. The heroes are in town when things go wrong.