Some time in the dead of night... Nothing could be heard but the chilly breeze racing through the surrounding trees. It was completely hopeless, the demonic boy had been moving along the snow-covered path for what seemed like hours, and with the poison in his system getting worse, he wasn't sure he'd made it. A harsh wind blew by, causing him to pull up his cloak to conceal his face from the cold darts that was ice. His legs struggled to pull through the knee-high snow, and eventually after leaving the support of a nearby tree, he collapsed, his muscles numb and his body slowly being devoured into the white abyss. Early next day... The village of Uxhall - a human population village - was just beginning it's usual morning rituals. Shops were opening, workers set out to gather what they could to keep the small settlement alive, it was a humble place to be. However, nobody dared leaving out and venturing into the surrounding forest. Not only was the snow worse there, but around this time, there would be a rise in bandit raids and aggressive creatures. Truly not the place for any villager. Or is it?