It's a series of dreams, you see. Each different from the last. There's the halting tale of a regiment left to the mercies of a time and place no one will remember. The story of a detective who never tells the truth and a murder surrounded by lies too elaborate to unravel. And, of course, there's the haunting narrative of two artists who dare to take a bite of the fruit the ferryman offers them only to find themselves alone in an empty world. Each of these tales is strewn across worlds and centuries. There isn't a common thread among them, except... Ahhh, except. Except that each is a search for a happy ending, with varying degrees of success. Except that each brushes life at its most fragile. Woolgathering is a journey through chronicles strange and familiar, leaving the adventurer to take from it what he wishes-- assuming, of course, that he finds his way out at all.