A light appeared above the peaks of the Madman’s Mountains one night, shining like the cold gleam of a second moon in the depths of Winter Itself. Most of the residents of Gilba Gilba slept through the mysterious affair, but those who were awakened by the strange glow knew it for what it was: the return of the Jibberjabs.

“And if that’s the case,” said Blom solemnly the next morning to his audience of patrons inside the Ragged Maiden, “we ought to remain vigilant. Ain’t that right, ol’ Hem?”

“Aye,” grumbled a grizzled Hem Slonnigum the First. He’d been more taciturn than usual ever since his boy Hem Slonnigum the Second had run off, disappeared into the Wide World and left his hometown of Gilba Gilba behind in the snow. The whole town was a-talkin’ about it. Who up and left the Comforts? Somethin’ was wrong with the boy and Gilba Gilba was better off for his departure.

“Aye,” assented Blom, keepin’ quiet on the subject of Hem II’s abrupt leavetaking. Complicated situation.

“Jibberjabs then,” muttered Farmer Gack. He grimaced. Gack had holed up for the Endless Shivers, there bein’ not much to say for the crops during this season. His time would come during the Spring Thaws. “Always comes back to the Jibberjabs. Endless cycles o’ them things, or so it seems to me.”

“Extracted from the earth and all,” grunted another man who had no name in this scene. Can’t be the case but it is the case today.

The front door of the Ragged Maiden swung open and revealed a tall, battered fella, dressed in blacks and brows of a leathery sort.

“Well close that door there, Crylax, or you’re lettin’ the Shivers in!!!” Gack reprimanded!!

“We any closer to ascertainin’ the origins of that light last night, then?” Hem I said, ignoring Crylax’s shuffling limp as he made his way to the counter and poured hisself a blusterin’ hot ale.

“Mayhap Glen could point us down the right path,” said Gack quietly. There was some uncomfortable moving about at that line. Nobody wanted to bring up Glen, especial not in the Ragged Maiden where all that bad business went down.

“Seems to me,” interjected Blom, avoiding looking at Gack, “we oughta send ourselves a few messages on off to the Crown and alert ‘em to the facts of the situation.”

“Up to you on that account,” said Crylax from the counter across the room. He turned around, a grimace stretching his face. “You better than most know the costs of tyin’ a knot on the Crown’s line.”

Blom did not quite appreciate that metaphor but he understood it all the same.