But why did I place book four firmly in the clutches of winter? Time knows no season, and the empty throne of Nordheim calls the dead season it's own. Although the thought of whipping snows and icy winds owns no thrill here, it has a place now as I write. And now I have a working name -- the Lords of Nordheim. We'll see if it sticks; but it is much better than staring at a generic title.
Now I can claim 185 pages, not counting glossary items. So hopefully, better news arrives next spring -- and winter, in actuality as well as book form, will have once again ended. Happy reading!