The city of London sweltered in the heat of summer, 1858. But it was not merely the sun that scorched the metropolis. An even more unpleasant force infested its very heart: the River Thames. Years of industrial effluents had transformed London's lifeblood into a stench. The stench was oppressive, a miasma that clung to every cobblestone and infused

The year the year of our Lord eight hundred and forty-five AD. A chill wind blasted across the Seine River, carrying with it the scent carrying salt and fear. The Norsemen were amongst us, a ravenous swarm of warriors seeking plunder. Their longships, like serpents, sliced through the waters, their flags waving in the wind. A city once peaceful now