When the ever-clear sky grew dark, shaded in grey clouds that drifted down to the earth as swirling, frozen embers and shrouded the green grass in white, it was a portent of change. These embers scorched all that they touched, shriveling fruit and flowers, hardening their once-vibrant stalks to ugly, brittle grey sticks, creating hideous spreading bruises on the produce until it dropped from the vine, soft as jam and with a repulsively sweet smell that none in the Lair had ever experienced before.

Surely this was the end of days.

There was no sign of the Wolflord, and word was that even the Goat had fled. The Children of the Lair gathered in the halls of the House, some hushed and trusting the words of the First Muse and the Chevalier, that their Lords would return soon and all would be well – but others whispered what this could imply.

Such events grew common since the Waking of the Wolflord, and it was not even a year since the Great Storm that accompanied the arrival of the strange, entrancing child, Florian. Even before then, the sky had been fickle, but with only one commonality to be seen…He was awake.

Marceau saw the pattern, and in secret, communicated it to his sister Aurélie and their friend Hadrien. At first, they weren’t sold on his idea, but as the days of the Darkened Sky stretched on, they began to believe.

The question remained, what did it mean…? Marceau believes that the world is being created anew, signified by the awakenings and births within the Lord’s family. They must embrace these struggles and trust in the process if they are to survive to witness the Lair in its true glory.