The Clan of the Raven has withdrawn to the hills.
They have withdrawn to a high place in the sacred lands, nearer the heart…
Their fires are dead, their hearths are cold and the hilltop is now silent under the moon.
Others come, others who are not known to the Gods, others who would abuse the knowledge and the power of this sacred place.
Their camp fires burn beyond the far hill, a day’s sight from here, they herald both an ending and a beginning.
Within the walls of this highest place, where the Raven Folk have lived in peace, lie deep secrets…
The Feathered Seer. Weekend Workshop April 2017
“In a time before memory…when the land was yet young and Albion unborn,
I dreamed the stars of a time yet to be.
I dreamed your becoming.
…I see you.
I called and you have come.
The time is now.”
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