Greystone Valley is a world where the myths and legends of our world run wild. That means that magic is abundant in this world, with different people wielding different kinds of sorcery. Some people in the valley have even tried studying magic like it’s math or science, gathering together in schools to discuss theories on different spells. These studies tend to be frustrating because magic is an ever-changing art form. While there are many different ways for a person to learn this art in Greystone Valley, these are the three most common forms of magic.

“Believe me, if there was a better way to approach without being seen, we would take it,” Dax responded. “I hate those tunnels—they’re so dank and dreary. The moisture and cold air will almost certainly make my rheumatism act up. But Castle Greystone is surrounded by trackless foothills and thick forests. The southern pass is our best hope of getting to the Great City. The caverns are dark and deep, but they’ll bring us right beneath the city, although I’m sure we’ll all perish before we’re through.”

“So, what will we be facing down there?” Sarah’s mom asked. “Dragons? Trolls?”

“Worse,” Dax said. “Dwarves.”

“Dwarves?” Sarah asked. “Like short people?”

“Short, hairless people that live in the deepest caverns and . . . ugh . . . sing sometimes.”

“They don’t sound that bad.”

Dax scanned the horizon and took the lead as they got going. “Sometimes,” he moaned, “it seems like everybody else is speaking in a foreign language.”

Not quite fey but not quite humans, the dwarves of Greystone Valley inhabit the darkest depths of the mountains. They are fierce protectors of the treasures that lie beneath the earth, and often fight dragons and trolls, whose greed drives the dwarves into a frenzy.

“Why don’t they raise the army anyway?” Sarah stepped carefully through the streets, avoiding sharp rocks that could cut into her bare feet. “These people can’t enjoy having an entire army tromping through their village at the drop of a hat.”

“What land do you come from?”

“Me? Um…America.”

“And does everyone get along in this America of yours?”

“Of course!” Sarah immediately felt foolish for blurting out the poorly thought-out answer. “Well…not really. It’s complicated.”

“It’s complicated here, too. The valley hasn’t had a king in over fifty years. It’s mostly just tiny villages like this one. Each town has its own way of doing things, and none of them likes having someone else telling them what to do. When people can’t even agree on what side of bread to butter in the morning, how are they supposed to cooperate on something more important?”

Greystone Valley is currently a land without a ruler. The valley is made up mostly of villages and other small settlements, each which has their own way of doing things. That means that going from one town to the next has some peril involved, since the laws might change dramatically without notice. Very few towns post their laws openly. Most people assume that their way of doing things is just common sense, even if it doesn’t seem like common sense to a foreigner. It has been this way for over fifty years now, ever since the corrupt reign of King Borgus Rothgar, often referred to nowadays as Rothgar the Fat, Stupid, and Ugly.