A story is brewing, one for the ages, one where a young, relatively foolish woman flies into a large kingdom aboard an airship to start fresh, as an intruder from the kingdom their waging war with steals a treasured town heirloom. One where, just next door, a wizard's apprentice is nose-deep in a book, his owl by his side, flipping pages in search of the information he craves. As the rising sun glowed in the east, peeking up, just shy of half of its morning glory revealed to the kingdom, people hustle on, as if it was a normal day. The story has begun. ------------------- WH A T A M I DOI N G APAUVNOIVBHRUAOUBG- anyways- yeah- i'm making a story- and I cannOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH THE T IN MARGOT'S NAME IS SI L E N T--