Test One

In your postbox is a weathered envelope covered with shimmering frost, in the envelope is an aged card still scented by spice and pine. When you open the Christmas card, a folded page almost falls out.
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Read the Card and Page\

Inside, it is signed by a ‘Prof. Valentine Davis’. Do you recognize that name? Was it from the university, or was it at her Majesty’s court? His message penned in the card is, honestly, fairly standard but one sentence sticks out: Will you join in the Inheritance? What he wrote on this page is less so…
  As the north wind blows cold and the lacre falls, we know it’s those joyous times!
Lend me your ears and I’ll tell you a festive tale. At least it rhymes.
Please, permit me - your storyteller - to dress and set the stage.
This story has been written across much more than my page.
Far above even the Earth’s surface our Lord rules atop heaven’s arch,
Where we would’ve heard his herald angels sing out: “HARK!”
Even so, here below in the Neath, steeples swing the telling bell.
  In the South a vital light - heart and hearthstone of the eldest continent.
Was it an earthquake by which this forgotten, hidden home was rent?
Even locked away, here we can hear the carillon loud and deep:
A message of peace on earth and good-will that all should keep.
In the ceiling and high haunted places echo sweet words and wild cries!
And from that sacred garden, the enlightened mountain replies;
From our first Eve to the merry present... oh, what she has to tell.\