Your friend, Christopher, was a young man with a tireless spirit and a dream to protect his native land. When the king called upon young men to fight the approaching threat of the conquerors of the north, Chris, without hesitation, set out on a campaign.

At first, you received letters from Christopher - about battles, about the bravery and friendship of his comrades. But then the letters began to arrive less frequently, and soon they stopped altogether. Several months passed, and you felt a restlessness that did not leave you for a minute.

One frosty day, you came across a motionless figure sitting in the snow. Coming closer, you recognized Christopher. His clothes were tattered and worn, he was too lightly dressed for winter. In his hands he held a sword, cracked and covered in streaks of blood, and his face was stained with tears.

Christopher - They all died ... I ran as best I could ..