Prologue
Its a cold winters night. The sky is as black as coal, not a star in sight as the ice storm rages on like a war zone. a small caravan of merchants travel through the great forests on their way to alicardé. The only sounds are the howls of the wind and tromping of the bison. A single guard rides on horseback protecting, and leading the caravan.
Suddenly an arrow pierces the mans heart ripping him from the saddle and underfoot of the bison causing them to steer off course into a frozen lake. And four men with gray cloths across their faces hoop and holler as they rush the unprotected caravan. Meanwhile the head carriage goes i