"♫ Down yonder green valley, where streamlets meander, When twilight is fading I pensively rove. Or at the bright noontide in solitude wander, amid the dark shades of the lonely ash grove...♪" It was a late summer's evening, and Lenore found herself singing quietly as she skimmed the canopy of the temperate forests far outside the reach of civilization. The stark black griffon soared with purpose towards a clearing. There, camped on a hill were a collection of wagons arranged in a loose c...