An old fox woman sat on a crate by the side of an old oak tree. She was knitting herself some socks, and smiling at the two acolytes from behind her silver fur and horn-rimmed spectacles. “Now who might you two be?” Greta pushed herself in front of Rafe. “Greetings. I am Greta von Hammersmit, and that is Rafe Cauley. We’re with the Order of the Flawed Snowflake, an organization that…” “Puts its nose into

“Do not be fooled. This creature is not some petty, insignificant thing. She has not been reduced to nothing by the ravages of time. Even now, after all these centuries, we must treat her like she is. She is vengeance. She is death. She is a goddess.” Acolyte Rafe Cauley rolled his eyes. Someone was listening a bit too hard to the Masters’ lectures. “We have been chosen,” Greta Von Hammersmit announced. The gnome woman

The two acolytes trudged even further down the trail, now in relative silence. Greta had tried to restart conversations, which were rebuffed by Rafe with ease. “I just want to find out where this damn tomb is, and then we can go back to doing real work.” Rafe cleared through the last of the brambles, and shuffled forward. “So you think this doesn’t matter?” Greta asked. “How often does the Order check on the Tomb?”