[b]Herbert West[/b] West would find bodies in the snow. Some frozen, some burned. Upon closer inspection, he might be disturbed to discover that many of the bodies were not at all human. Some where animals… many were animals that he could not name, and he considered himself a learned man. There was one that might have been a wolf, but it was far too large. It was larger than a horse, even, the size of an elephant perhaps. It had patches of blue fur. It was frozen and dead. There was one that at first, looked like a man. However, he had no mouth. Where a man would have had a mouth this one, instead, had a row of long tendrils growing like a strange beard. This one had died by fire. Herbert would see something move in the snow near a small pile of bodies. The dead quivered, and shook, then from underneath them emerged something else entirely… … a tiny creature made entirely of bones. A tiny skull, a thin spine, tiny clawed feet, and two sets of long mandibles that would have been wings if they had any skin. The tiny skeletal creature stumbled through the snow, which was much deeper than the creature was tall. It was the size of Herbert’s palm. It had no flesh, it had no organs, it was only clean white bones. Yet it moved. Yet it walked. Yet it looked at Herbert with empty eye sockets, and cocked its head to one side, like a pigeon in the park begging for bread crumbs. [b]William Bluff[/b] Several feet away from William he would see movement in the snow. He was not alone. Someone lay half buried, they stirred but they were not yet awake. She shivered. Should William approach he would find a girl. She was under dressed for the snow. She was wearing brown pants and leather boots. She wore a white shirt, layered with a thin shirt comprised of small metal rings, and over that a leather vest that laced together. She was small, thin, she had bronze skin and dark hair coiled around her head in a braid… the braid was askew, her hair escaping in violent puffy clumps that collected snow. She was beat up, her clothes torn and her face bruised. If he touched her he would find her pulse weak and her body cold. It was amazing, considering what she wore, that she had not yet frozen to death. [b]Dimitri[/b] The monk walked toward the fire and toward death. As he came closer to the interior of the building he would see more and more bodies. Some were burned, some were frozen, some were broken and torn apart in other ways. He might feel humbled by the size of the once-great hall. The broken roof loomed high above, but did little to cast any shadow to hide the gruesome scene before him. Some of the cracks in the walls and the roof were very old, erosion caused by time. Some of it was new. The rocks had recently been scorched and shattered. The blood of the dead, of course, was still fresh. They had died less than a day ago, though, exactly when would be impossible to tell. They only thing that Dimitri would be able to say for sure is that they were once alive and now they were dead, for the bodies were mutilated beyond recognition… … except for one. In the center of the room there was a large stone block. Upon that block was a body that still had a face. It was a girl, her chest was cut open and pried apart. Apart from this wound and the blood that covered her and dyed her entire being red, she was not otherwise burned or hurt like those who lay strewn about her. The closer he got to the center of the once great hall the more wrong the energy would feel. That sinking feeling would touch the innermost part of his sensitive soul. There was white chalk etched into the ground. Dimitri would not recognize the patterns that seemed to form a circle around the stone altar. He would not be able to record very many of them. The drawings had been disrupted by whatever destruction had been reaped her, and of course by the weather. With the roof gone the entire work was exposed to the elements. The wind carried the chalk away and into the white snowy world around it, erasing whatever had been written there. Perhaps the mountain was busy at work erasing and burying whatever it was that had happened here. It was so wrong that even the mountain itself protested. [b] Alex[/b] As Alex approaches the body, he hears a groan and a muttering. There is a body half covered in snow, half covered in rubble from the broken wall. The man is tall, his body large with hard, corded muscles running all over his towering frame, His face is slightly gaunt, with flawless, snowy skin. He is deathly cold to the touch. His hair is silver and shoulder length, curling at the nape of his neck. He is wearing a large grey coat of thick wool with shining brass buttons and an expensive three-piece suit, a white shirt, and steel toe-capped boots. He mutters, his shoulders shift, sending rubble and snow rolling off his body. [b]Xavier (The one who went South)[/b] As he walked south he would notice more details about the place. In some places the snow was melted and the stone burned. In small patches the fires was still burning. He would step on what he realized was a frozen body. He would notice many bodies. They were dusted with a light covering of snow. Something had happened here, though, exactly how long ago was difficult to say. Hours perhaps, but no more than a day. Then he would hear a voice, a living voice among the dead. [i]"Is somebody out there?"[/i] [b] Alexander (The one who went East)[/b] Snow gusted into his face as he walked. To his right was what looked like what was once the main section of a grand castle, the roof was on fire, broken and caving in. He could not quite make out what was up there, as it was far too high. Up ahead there was a small fire burning up ahead. Beside it, behind a large boulder he would see movement. [i]“DON'T YOU FUCKING MOVE! I’VE GOT YOU IN MY SIGHTS!”[/i] From behind the boulder emerged a girl. She was young, maybe 16, with long dark hair and a determined face. The fire light made her face seem even more fierce. She held a bow, and had a long black pointed arrow drawn back to her cheek. The bow bent and the string tight, ready to be released, and send the arrow toward Alexander. She would continue to speak. “[i]First[/i], put your hands where I can see them. [i]Then[/i], tell me who the hell you are and what the hell you're doing here!” She scowled, even with so much anger her young face was smooth and pretty, “And don’t fucking lie! I’ll be able to tell.” [b] Vata [/b] The world was cold, it would not be safe to stay cold for long… but he was not alone. As he called out the figure approached closer… [b]Ryann…[/b] Ryann woke up cold and alone. As she looked around she would realize she was very high up… she was on top of a tower. A tower that was old and broken by time… but also by fire. The sides were scorched though where she lay was untouched. Looking out she would see a winter wonderland… from her vantage she could see that she was on a mountain. She stood on one of two towers among a mass of ruins set on the side of a cliff. Parts of the ruins were still on fire. She might see figures moving, or lying about, but she was too high up to make out any details. There were once stairs leading down the tower, and once a bridge connecting the tower to the main part of the castle. Both had crumbled away with time.