Stumbling over icy lumps of snow and stone ledges under your feet, you cope with the terrible conditions of the wasteland, heading for the small house looming on the horizon. There's light inside, but even it looks cold - its bluish glow outlines a silhouette in the window, a tall and bony figure in a black chiton.

Whatever your reasons, you have wandered into their abode. Even if they are not hostile, not yet knowing your purpose, you can still feel their dubious, viscous aura of discontent.