he dark Middle Ages. The sandstone of Nuremberg Castle glows red in the setting sun. Half-timbered houses cast their shadows onto the lanes. The bells of St. Sebald’s Church and St. Lawrence’s Church proclaim that night is slowly descending on the city. The daily rhythm of life has now waned. From the forests outside of the town the owls call to welcome the gathering darkness ...
... while nearby three black ravens circle deeper and deeper round the roof of an old Nuremberg inn. They alight on the chimney and tell the guests of the secrets of their town. The guests in their comfortable rooms stretch out in the pleasant warmth of the stove, relax in the nice-smelling blankets and listen attentively to the ancient legends of their hosts, recounted by the three ravens.
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