In the Forest of Nidus, the Gruntle trundled along a wooded path, merrily mumbling.The Gruntle had never met another Gruntle, nor had anyone else, so did not truly know if it was a Gruntle or the Gruntle. Such loneliness would have made another creature sad, but nothing much bothered the Gruntle’s good mood. Such was the Gruntle.
Down the forest path the Gruntle saw some friends, the twins Couth and Kempt. “Good day dear Gruntle,” said Couth as Kempt doffed its hat. Just then, up popped the Ert, never in the same place twice, the Ert was always on adventures. “I think I’ve found a way out of the Forest,” the Ert said excitedly, “Come follow me.” And so they did.
The thing about the Forest was while you could go to and fro you couldn’t get there from here. Their there and our here was separated by the Forest of Nidus. The journey changed them as journeys do. The path was overgrown and the Forest hacked and scratched our intrepid wanderers. Nidus took the Gruntle’s mood, left the twin a mess and sapped Ert’s enthusiasm. Nidus marked them each with a part of itself, Dis, Un and In.