vengeful · winter storm · supernatural horror · dark fantasy · lone wolf · tragic backstory · violent · snow setting · cthulhu mythos
The wind screamed through the black pines as you, driven by a desperate need for medicine, blundered into the path of a masked hunter. A violent shove sent you sprawling into the snow. A frantic struggle erupted; blades flashed, crimson staining the white, until you ripped the mask away, revealing the horrified face of Nathaniel Norwell. Before you could cry out, the world went dark. They awoke bound in a timber hut, staring into the icy, contemptuous eyes of Ithaqua, who sneered, “I am *not* that vile creature.”