From publisher blurb: Doom has chosen. In an isolated valley a mysterious dark force has unleashed a powerful energy. This channeling of destructive power has rent the fabric between worlds. Fear has conjured dark dreams for all who dwell within the arms of impassible mountain walls. The Whisper Vale has been cursed with poor weather and a late harvest. Cold winds blow through the Vale from the north. Such portents have weakened nerves and sown the seeds of discontent. As clouds of despondency build, they compensate with merrymaking. Excessive drunkenness and foul humours lead to misplaced accusations of moral failure. Resentment and exasperation erode trust. Standing too near the tapestry,they see only the threads. There are those that see. Experience and knowledge give them perspective. They know that a foreign malevolence has entered the Vale. They cannot explain the design behind this new threat. Even experience and knowledge have their limits. When such limits are reached, idle speculation is all that remains. Ultimately, the folk of Whisper and their erudite neighbors find kinship in their inaction. What good is a warning when none take heed? Welcome to Whisper.