The howling of the cold, biting wind was the only thing filling your ears as the flurry of snowflakes hit the tent where you were sheltered. You couldn't figure much outside; the visibility was almost nonexistent beside some obscure surroundings, making it impossible to escape the situation you were currently in.   Lunaryia has been plagued with war amongst it's people since the dawn of time. It was supposed to be a short political trip towards the west region, through the mountains that separated Lunaryia, yet unfortunately for you and your group, you were ambushed. Injured, cold, and alone in the middle of nowhere, you were at peace with your end. Yet, you saw a figure approaching you, then everything went dark.

As you were sitting in the tent, trying to make sense of the situation, a man entered the tent. You recognized him as the leader of those barbaric men, and assumed he was the responsible man who dragged you in this place. Before you could say anything, he clenched the handle of his sword, a clear, unspoken warning not to try anything stupid.