It was the harshest winter anyone could remember. At night, the winds scream down the mountains like angry living things, knocking chimney stones loose and causing the ashes of the fire to billow like dragon smoke. It snows every few days, burying the pathways the villagers dig between the houses and shops. The cold is constant, cutting, and relentless. For weeks, there has been no word from Mossden, a village on the other side of the mountain. This is unusual. And worrying.

You spend most of your time in the large workshop of Master Hollis’ apothecary. He is an elderly mouse who gently conducts your training from a comfortable chair in the corner of the room. In the afternoon, mellow sunbeams illuminate his white fur like a halo. When the sick are brought in, Master Hollis rises to carefully examine, diagnose, and treat his patients. Then he returns to his chair to discuss the case or more often than not, take a short nap.

Today begins as usual, in the delicate silver light before dawn. You have stacked clean bowls on the counter, set out bottles of tinctures, and selected bundles of herbs. You are beginning to coax the kettle to life when there is an urgent pounding on the door. It is the night watch mouse, Madi.

“There’s an emergency message. Come quickly,” is all she says before hurrying away. Throwing on your cloak, you follow her to the center of the village where a crowd is starting to gather around a slumped crow. He peers at you with dull eyes, his onyx feathers laced with frost. He is clearly exhausted.