. . "This will give you a pail of unusual snow."@en . "[\u2026] you barely realise you're in a graveyard. [\u2026] A crypt, actually. An Ancient Tomb-Colonist sticks her head round the door. [\u2026] she rasps. \"Too kind. Remember you to the Red Bird.\" She marches out [\u2026] A single russet feather drifts in her wake."@en . . . . "Clear the paths of others, then your own"@en . . "From: [[]] \t Parties of friendly citizens are co-operating to open up the ways of London. Lend your back to help those snared by the oddly odorous stuff. [Find the rest of the story at ] __NOEDITSECTION__"@en . . "10"^^ . . . "A burly prelate"@en . . "20"^^ . "[\u2026] Neath-snow varies: this is sticky, ivory in colour, and smells rather tarry. You're staggered by an abrupt clap on the back [\u2026] It's the Bishop of Southwark, scourge of Hell! Spade in hand, he bends to work beside you."@en . . "From: [[]] \t Parties of friendly citizens are co-operating to open up the ways of London. Lend your back to help those snared by the oddly odorous stuff. [Find the rest of the story at ] __NOEDITSECTION__"@en . "A creaking gate"@en . . . "Parties of friendly citizens are co-operating to open up the ways of London. Lend your back to help those snared by the oddly odorous stuff."@en . "SNOWBOUND!"@en . .