The
pathways of the Land
of Fill shift from night
to night, month to month, year to year. Only the Makers know why.
Kranok
stands at a crossroad. He raises his Searcher's staff to divine his next step.
If he goes
left, he will reach the habitations of artists and artisans, Tinkers and
Coggers. If he goes right, the fields of Farmers and pens of Mouse-Herders.
Straight ahead lie the camps of the Makers' Children, next to the furnaces of
Those-Who-Burn.
He opens
closed eyes and sets off over the refuse itself. He walks somewhere he has
never been before.
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