The blessing or curse of darkness spread across the moor. Ambiguous creatures began lurking as the night set in. Trulesta tilted her head to better hear the sounds of the bog. Apprehension filled her to the core but she would swear on her mother’s blood that she heard a cry not far from her tiny hut. Hesitantly she stepped forward.  As her eyes adjusted to the spreading darkness, weary from the days work but curious none the less to investigate the sound that had startled her from her slumber. She snatched a lamp from the wall before going any further, for her the darkness was a curse. At her age her eyes were beginning to fail her. And she began to rely on her ears, to hear what she could not see. Yet something about that cry she heard tugged at her, urging her to seek it out. As well as she knew some creatures were known to draw one out with human sounding cries only to claim yet another victim for which they would devour. So with great caution she slowly crept in the general direction from which the sound came. The dry earth below her feet cracked, startling her for but a moment as she approached the opening of the wooded area. Her tiny hut lies between the moor and the dead forest. The trees loom and swirled above her, creating unforeseen creatures with its dead dry limbs. She knew the lands well living here the majority of her long life. But these lands are now over run by vile vicious creatures, where there was once life now only death rules. Looking to the ground she noticed a tiny green sapling. Raising a brow that such a thing could spring from life amidst darkness and death.  She crouched down and touched the green with her fingertips. A strange vibration spread through her, tingling and filled with life. She gasped loudly as the cry wrenched through the wood. More urgent this time. More fear. Looking up she noticed more green saplings as if they were guiding her. Somewhere. To something. Careful not to step or crush them she ventured on slowly. She twisted around, faster then her old bones expected when a whoosh of air or perhaps an animal ran past her. Again the cry rang out. With less caution and more urgency she followed the saplings trail. She halted quickly almost falling forward, for nestled in a very flourishing green bush was a large brown basket. Some sort of creature was squirming below a rough old blanket. Slowly she reached to move the blanket, racked with a mix of fear and curiosity she peered into the basket. “By the Gods!” she gasped, stepping back quickly she almost tumbled to the ground. Nestled deep in the basket were two naked babes. Both fair haired, bluish gray eyes, but one was an unhealthy ashen color where the other was pink and vibrant. The pink one let out an ear piercing scream, like razor’s slicing though ones head. “Oy! Ye be like a razor to ones skull lil one” Gingerly she picked up the basket, looking about but there was no sign of human or beast. Who would abandon such wee lasses, and in such a place as this no less! Trulesta’s heart began to beat quickly as she held the basket close. The quiet pale one seemed to look deep in her soul while the pink one voiced her disdain at being stuck in such a small place and only the God’s know how long. She stumbled through the woods and headed fast to her hut. Thus far no creatures were about, that she knew of. But felt it best to get within the safety of her home.  Lucky she has some sustenance for the wee ones. She wasn’t that far in age to not be able to care for them but a bit uncertain just why their mum chose to leave these two behind. They looked fairly innocent, no strange marks, minus little razor’s ill temperament. She chuckled to herself. Making up her mind quickly she would raise these whelp’s, her only son has been grown and long away for years now. And a little sunshine was due in this dreaded moor. The pale one seemed to sense her decision and promptly fell asleep while the other let out yet another piercing wail. Holding her close she gazed into her soft blue eyes. Cooing softly an age old song her mum once sang to her. “Methinks you will be called Raziel, for me gran mum. Ye have her spirit and Oy lass her ability to splits ones ears with that wail.”  She looked over at the sleeping pale one. Worry furrowed her brow. She was uncertain if she was sickly or just very pale. She was silent and absorbed everything around her. Her sleep was restless though. Her eyelids fluttering quickly as she dreamed of who knows what? She let out a moan, silently yet with some great yearning. Raziel kicked and began to squirm, looking to her sister. Trulesta placed her next to her and she promptly fell asleep. Now both soundly slept. It was liberating it seemed to have her sister near. Libby, which is what the pale one would be known as. And seeing as she found them in the darkened moor thus the twins would be known as Libby and Raziel Darkmoor. Life would prove most interesting for Trulesta and the girls. Deep in her soul she felt something would come of these two beautiful girls. As to what remains to be seen…