An entire herd of greywyrmes, slaughtered for their flameoil. Others trapped, then viciously herded through the mountains. And more and more settlers heading up to the high country, the bones of those who don’t make it littering the way, stark and white, picked clean by carrionwyrmes – the bone trail . . . Trouble is brewing on the weald....

Fullwinter in the weald - a season of almost unsurvivable cold for anyone foolish enough to venture outside. Even wyrmes die, frozen in the icy wasteland, or falling lifeless from the skies as the host heads west to escape the advance of the two-hides: man......