Welcome to Legends of Aventress. I'm Nikki Scarlett, and you're listening to Edge of Midnight.

Somewhere lost in the shrouded realms of death lies a land of endless night, but long-forgotten horrors are revealed with those who travel through the midst.

But that place is not where our story begins, no.

Our story begins a full harvest moon, smiling down of a fields of straw and stove.

It's harvest time.

The half-ling communities of Yona are nestled into their beds, exhausted from the day's hard work,

and preparing for the work that will follow.

Rising high above a land of wheat fields and stover, the moon casts her gentle milk light onto the fertile valley below,

and the valley sleeps peacefully in her protective glow.

All except for, lone figure walking through the crops in the dead of night,

for he can never sleep no matter how hard he tries.

At first glance, he appears to be nothing more than a man in the weathered clothes of a vagabond.

A second glance would tell you that this is no man at all. A scarecrow walks forward on his own two legs and looks up towards the midnight sky as he plucks the strings of a banjo.

And the quiet night is awoken with a cry of a mournful song.

Old Jericho Sticks wanders alone, the crow that circles above him never seems to stray far from the

lonesome tunesmith. The bird, with it strangely unnatural eyes and feathers black as the midnight,

descends gracefully and lands atop the headstock of the animate scarecrow. Just long enough

to peck his burlap sack of a head before flying off towards a hill covered in ripening pumpkins.

A wheezing call pierces the silence of the night as a calling Jericho towards the patch

of orange gourds.

Jericho, what do you do?

Virgil, why are you going towards those pumpkins?

...