A RIVER RUNS PUTRID: A SUMMER OF FILTH, 1858

The city of London sought in the heat of summer, 1858. But it was not merely the sun that baked 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 foul-smelling mire. The stench was oppressive, a miasma that clung to every cobblestone and

The year eight hundred forty-five AD. A chill wind swept across the Seine River, carrying with it the scent of salt and fear. The Norsemen had arrived, a ravenous swarm of warriors seeking glory. Their longships, like serpents, sliced through the waters, their flags waving in the wind. A city once proud now trembled beneath the menace of Valhalla's