For all the pale chill darkness where the snow runs deep — for all the fleetingness of summer and the long cold grip of the winter nights — it is not as if nothing lives, no one lives, in the Brilliant Lands. Far from it.

Be it fellow travellers or fair terrors, who might you meet?

01. A lordling in sable-trimmed finery, out for blood-oath payment with a retinue of spear-masters
02. A rimewalker, frozen heart exposed horribly, blackened talons caked with crimson ice
03. A ghost lion, shoulder-tall and snow-smoke-pelted, in search of prey or den
04. A gnarled puck bent beneath a pine-bough basket’s weight, offering dreams for wishes
05. A snow-witch, wrapped in icy finery and crowned with glittering thorns, singing a storm to life
06. A small herd of caribou, spooked and fleeing or, rarity of rarities, standing to stare in wary curiosity
07. A foxfire racing across snowy drifts and frozen bog, its tail flagging like a blue-white flame
08. A hunter, clad in verdant wool and heavy leathers, with a brace of snowhounds snuffling the drifts
09. A delicate iceknight, promises of eternal comfort falling from pale thin lips as they approach
10. A sleigh pulled by shaggy-coated horses, loaded with bales and bundled pelts and a traveller or two
11. A winterdrake, all coils of blue-frost scale and ice-splinter fangs and dark whispers of winter night
12. A family fleeing calamity, everything they have in the bundled packs lashed to their backs