Buildings left in a destitute state crumble into rubble, a dusty breeze flutters what remains of a child’s clawed and tattered dress snagged atop a perched inn sign, violently stained with innocent blood. Golden rays of winter’s afternoon sun blanket the deserted streets. Shadow pockets in alleyways and corners steadily creep outward as dusk eerily approaches. In half-plated armor, she passes through the decrepit echo of a once prosperous town long gone. The sheathed rapier buckles by her side as with her every step clicks the rubble beneath her. A silver locket dangles against her breastplate, arcane inscriptions glimmer in the sunlight etched atop the lockets heart-shaped face and a cloud of fog follows her breath in the chill noon air.