Deep in the centre of a dark forest there was a magnificent old yew tree, gnarled and twisted branches spreading wide. In its roots was nestled a well of fresh and sweet water that reflected the sun in the sky, even though the branches covered the sun. This well had magical properties and would show the truth to anyone who drank from it. So strong and pure was the truth, that a beautiful and fierce emerald-coloured dragon guarded it, for the truth was not to be taken lightly.

Lars jumped out of his mud streaked truck, well-worn workman’s boots thudding into the earth. He ran a hand through his light blonde hair and walked towards the waiting crew. The forest loomed ominously behind them, beneath a cloudy sky, dense pine the colour of midwinter even in the late summer sun, scenting the air with its fresh and spicy fragrance.