“Where is the light? Where is the joy? A Snowless holiday!” The voice carried only a small distance over the clearing in the woods near the Britain crossroads. “Too much work, too little celebration. No one has been allowed their yearly respite.” The same voice responded to itself. The season had been snowless, the first snowless winter Britannia had seen in recent memory. The lack of snow meant that the seasons of fall and spring had blended together and most of the hardworking people of Britannia had not managed any sort of a seasonal break. Nico the wandering healer had long chosen the little clearing west of Britain crossroads as his favored place to ply his charitable work. The occasional wounded adventurer would come from the moongate to the south, but the real joy to the spot was its rich history and occasional excitement. There had been fairs, festivals, races, duels and wars fought here, arguably one of the most popular places in Britannia for such things due to its proximity to the capitol. In spite of the almost total lack of a winter the year had been a firestorm, there had been riots and chaos. Exodus had risen from darkness, and Blackthorn had been crowned King of Britannia. The lack of snow served only as a reminder of the hot days of discontent waged earlier in the year. Nico thought that the poor farmers, lumberjacks and other hard working folk still deserved a rest. Night had fallen over the clearing and Nico made himself as comfortable as possible between a pair of lanterns with the bit of hay the stables had given him to make his bed. Being a wandering healer meant an almost total involuntary poverty and a thankless job. Nico couldn’t remember the last time someone had said a simple ‘thank you!’ for his services. Just the same, he loved his work, he loved Britannia and the wide open spaces of the world. As the moons rose to their full bloom in the skies above Nico did his best to shut his eyes but instead found himself peering out into the darkness across the field with sleepless eyes. It was late and he had spent the bulk of the evening warming a bit of pre-cooked duck by his fire and talking to himself, an affliction common to his profession. As Nico finally found the tinge of sleep begin to pull on his eyes a small sparkle of light began to twinkle in the grass. At first he thought that perhaps the moons had managed to catch a piece of scrap metal or a coin lost in the grass. A single coin could feed Nico for a night, or make the difference between breakfast or none. He rose to his feet reluctantly and walked to the spot in the grass where he found one of the most confusing sights of his life. Rather than grass, dirt or anything Nico’s limited experiences could explain he was greeted instead by a hole, but not a hole. A Void the size of his closed fist and at the bottom of this hole a single star twinkled just out of reach. The sight confused the middle aged man so completely he did not notice as the void grew slightly larger. The edges of the grass had given into this void several arms length before Nico finally realized he was in danger. Alas, far too late… Nico spun on his right heel to turn around and run, the ground beneath him gave way to the void and in he fell, silently into nothingness. The wind howled across the clearing spreading the makeshift bedding far and wide. Nico was gone.