The doors to the castle were open, drifts of snow keeping them pressed against the walls despite the wind blowing through the hall by way of a smashed window. You always knew exploring would get you trouble one day, but this hardly seemed like it was lived in. You stepped over clumps of dead weeds that littered the stone floors and walked through the hall.

Tattered tapestries, the colours long since faded to be unrecognizable, hung on either side of you, framed by stone columns. The columns held arches up, leading into other rooms and halls. You stepped in further, your feet echoing through the hall. Another gale of winter sent leaves scattering. You tilted your head up to look at the smashed window. Pieces of stained glass littered the floor, swept into clumps around the stairs. Some sections, clinging to the sill, still remained intact. But, beyond a leaf or a rose, you could hardly tell what it was.

It was getting dark, so you decided to mount the stairs, to see if there was a more intact room to stay in. Perhaps you could break apart some old furniture for firewood. Perhaps there were treasures to be found still.