There was beauty in Therunin, once. Spring would bring delicate marsh flowers, see blossoms kindle and spread like wildfire through the trees, waken the raucous beasts of the fens and the forests to full-throated life. Summer would herald long, warm days when jewelled dragonflies darted here-and-there across the waters, fruits and berries ripening, the great beetles of the deep woods scuttling about their inscrutable business under blue skies. The Druj have changed that, perhaps forever.
