The city of London sought in the heat of summer, 1858. But it was not merely the sun that parched 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 foul-smelling mire. The stench was oppressive, a miasma that clung to every cobblestone and

The year the year of our Lord eight hundred and forty-five AD. A chill wind swept across the Seine River, carrying with it the scent carrying salt and fear. The Norsemen were upon us, a stormy swarm of warriors seeking plunder. Their longships, like prowling predators, sliced through the waters, their flags billowing in the wind. A city once peacef