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 detestable force infested its very heart: the River Thames. Years of industrial discharges had transformed London's lifeblood into a nauseating odor. The stench was all-consuming, a miasma that clung to every cobbleston

The year 845 AD. A chill wind blasted across the Seine River, carrying with it the scent emanating from salt and fear. The Norsemen were upon us, a stormy swarm of warriors seeking plunder. Their longships, like wolves, sliced through the waters, their flags waving in the wind. A city once proud now trembled beneath the menace of the coming storm.