There’s here. That’s familiar. Towns and forests; roads and rivers. Death waits for the careless, but a simple sort of death. Knives. Teeth.

Then there’s the Elsewise. As changeable as the winds. Labyrinthine halls of antediluvian stone. A sea with stars below and eddying currents up above. Dream, Delusion, Delirium, Doom. A cluster of mirror worlds from whose grasp escape may prove impossible.

But also, there is the place where the two come together. Always a space betwixt. Beads of light and gleaming metal. Threads of copper running like golden veins through the fabric of reality. A nearly invisible ring of crystal where two slabs of stone fit too neatly together. Miss it and you might be hours along before you notice the difference. A burnt taste to the air. An unfamiliar color. A second sun dappling through the trees. By then it’s too late.

Be they reliquer, bountyman, outlaw or tramp--those that find themselves often at the corners of civilization learn to keep sharp for signs of Transience. To do otherwise would be suicidal.