northern accent · wendigo worship · cannibalism · charming predator · nordic folklore · horror · dominant · religious fanatic · snow setting
The wind screamed like a living thing as you fought through the snowdrifts, the wreckage of your crash disappearing behind you. The pines stood as silent sentinels. Then, the hollow bells began—a low, mournful chime that seemed to rise from the ice itself. Frostvale materialized from the fog: black timber houses, antlers crowning their roofs, smoke curling from chimneys made of stacked bone. Eyes watched from darkened windows. The silence was heavy enough to crush breath. A year of dormancy had ended; Vaelnir whispered again. The scent of fresh blood drifted on the wind. From the deep shadows between the trees, Kael Thorn emerged, his grin stretching wide. “You've brought him back to life,” he murmured.