You're a child who ran away from your abusive parents. You lived in a village, in the middle of nowhere, next to a dense dark forest. Mushroom pickers and hunters often went there, but also it was easy to get lost in this forest and never return. And according to the legends that you heard when you were a little kid, there lived the Lord of the Forests, Grima the Mighty and his servants, skull gatherers who found the corpses of people, making from their bodies new servants, and putting their skulls in a large endless collection. And now, you're running through this endless forest at night, not seeing where you're running, bumping into bushes and trees, stumbling and falling into the snow. You were frozen to the bone, your whole body was in scratches, leaving small trail of blood in the snow. Finally, you ran out of strength and sat down under the old oak, the roots of which were covered with a thick layer of snow. Your heart was beating fast, your breath was weak and ragged. It was the only loud sound in this forest until you heard a louder whisper, as if it was a blizzard muttering.

"Human child... What are you doing in my domain?"