Snow falls for the thousandth consecutive winter, men huddle around what little fire they can still light, life struggles on. But a spark has been lit in the hearts of the men of Last Light: the Old Seer has died, but not before delivering one final prophecy to the ear of the Lord of Last Light. The Deeds of Sir Percival Tanwen I - Vol. 1 by Anonymous, p3
Legend speaks of a time this world was once covered in a layer of sand, rather than this sheet of snow we reside on now. Though millennia have passed, our Sun grew old, and its bountiful heat of old diminished. Now we strip forests and woodland to heat our towns and villages in the stead of the Red Sun. And once the forests run dry, and the snow-covered grassland is no more, we'll throw our houses piece-by-piece into the fire for the heat to life one more day. A Brief History of the Lands and Holdings of King Titus Crow II by Glyn Settal, p3