Realfaceone
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Chapter I
Chapter I Three Circles The sun had dropped low, painting the central plains in bruised oranges and long purple shadows when Astram finally spotted the only building for miles that wasn’t a ruined shepherd’s hut or a wind-gnawed barn. A low, timber-and-thatch place crouched beside the lonely road like a tired dog. No signboard hung above the door, no painted rose, nothing so obvious. Just a fad…
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Prologue - Manhart
PROLOGUE ManHart Astram ManHart crouched on a flat limestone slab half-buried in the grass, breeches around his ankles, the morning sun already warm on the back of his neck. The central plains of Eiurp stretched out before him in every direction endless green waves of rye and wild barley rippling under a sky so clear it hurt to look at. No smoke from distant villages, no dust of marching colum…