A lone figure (
Gir'and Kris) trudges in the desolate snow scoured planes. Snowflakes land on his back, melt, and then turn to steam. He fumes about events of the past few days; a squad of royal guards stormed his den while he was away and mercilessly slaughtered his gang. They were all incompetent without him, but those thugs were the closest thing to family he had ever had.
He repaid the royal guard in kind, crushing the skull of their captain in the city square and setting the law house on fire, the blaze spread and soon the entire city was ablaze. By now, wanted posters a probably springing up all over the kingdom.
Suddenly the snow stops as if in fear of his violent mood swing and he beats upon the ground in rage. A thirst for blood is in his eyes as he continues marching along.