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In North Pointe Common Towne, where peace is a sacred law and the ale is always cold, a god has retired. Knodalon, ancient and weary, minds the lakeside storehouse and watches the world through a curtain of wind, content to keep the seasons still and the town's pantry full. But the world outside is anything but quiet. A Goblin King is rising in the west, and the chaos he brings has drawn a new kind of trouble to the town's doorstep: a pantheon of petty, preening gods vying for worship and influence. These are not the world-shapers of old, but tiny divinities of mundane things-a god of lost socks, a god of warm breezes, a god of forks that have just begun to tarnish. They are mischievous and maddening, and their squabbles threaten to unravel the very fabric of North Pointe. Knodalon, a god who longs for nothing more than to be left alone, must shed his quiet retirement and stand against these cosmic nuisances. With the town teetering on the edge of a delightful, humorous chaos and a more serious, external threat looming, the ancient god of storms must find a way to re-engage with the world he has so long observed from a distance. For if the town's magic falls, so does its peace, and Knodalon will be forced to learn that sometimes, the most profound duties are found in the most ordinary of places. **Everything is told from Knodolon's perspective, relying heavily on his internal monologue as he doesn't speak much. We see what he sees and hear what he hears, and we see what he thinks. His thoughts-his "internal monologue"-are always presented in italics. Much of what he sees and hears is limited to the town's trade road, since he primarily occupies a bench along the trade road, just outside the lakefront storehouse.**