The city of London breathed 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 waste had transformed London's lifeblood into a stench. The stench was oppressive, a miasma that clung to every cobblestone and saturated the

The year 845 AD. A chill wind blasted across the Seine River, carrying with it the scent emanating from salt and fear. The Norsemen had arrived, a horde swarm of warriors seeking plunder. Their longships, like beasts of the north, sliced through the waters, their flags waving in the wind. A city once confident now trembled beneath the shadow of Rag