Morn had been sat by the rivers edge for hours now waiting for his lure to catch something. Normally he'd have pulled up five fishes by now, and at least one to boast about. But instead the waters ran still as if all the fish had held a great conference and all decided en mass, to leave. And so he decided that a nap, on a hot-mid summer day, wouldn't effect anyone.

He awoke just in time to see the second sun rise begin, a second sun that the ensured the land was never touched by a true night. He stretched his arms out gazing at the setting sun and slowly turned to look towards the rising second sun. There was nothing. 'By the Spirits' he muttered under his breath. With his right hand he picked up his sword and with his left he put on his black woollen cloak as he started running back towards the town.

'There hasn't been night in over 500 years!! What are we supposed to do Lord Faron?' An ageing bald man replied to the exasperated looking youth sat beside him. 'Well not sit here doing bloody nothing I imagine! Where in the name of the spirits is Morn anyway?