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The Farmer and the Greenwood
An old farmer lived with his wife in a small cottage a little ways away from the nearest village. They were poor, and had very little in terms of material possessions. Nevertheless, they were a religious couple, and were quite content.
One day, when returning from a day's work in the fields, the farmer came into the cottage with the intention of eating the supper his wife had surely fixed him that day, only to discover that his wife was, in fact, gone. She had been baking bread earlier that day, and a message was drawn in the flour on the table. Though uneducated and illiterate, the farmer was at once able to recognize the writing as being in the language of the Faeries. With haste, he  set out for the only place he knew Faeries to live: the greenwood.
He reached the wood and wandered for hours, until he all but lost any sense of direction. After a while, the old man's stomach began to growl. He recalled with regret that, in his haste, he had neglected to bring along somethin The Baron: PrologueAnother funeral. I flopped down onto my bed and sighed inwardly. Didn't anyone ever get tired of these things? Not in Lutetia, that was for sure. Here, death is the hand that turns the wheel of society. People attend funerals more often than Catholics attend Mass. Our obsession with the morbid, what some would consider taboo, reveals itself in the way we lay our dead to rest, in our prayers and songs, in our festivals and art, and in the books and poems we read. It takes form as a God, an all-powerful Creator, whom we have modestly dubbed the Baron.
The Baron is responsible for all war, starvation and hardship, and as a punishment for the sins of man takes back the souls he had created, one by one. Nobody's sure about what happens after a person dies. Some say that the soul is left to wander aimlessly through an eternity of darkness. Others insist that it is judged, its sins weighed against its virtues, and its reward or punishment waits in the afterlife. Still others claim that if you

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