On the Eozon Continent, a small village called Cullfield was sitting amidst the mountain range that surrounded it from all the sides. Towering trees, covered in snow, stood. Icy wind wheezed in the valley; the clouds rushed from the top of one mountain to another, obscuring almost half of the snow-covered peaks, portraying a striking picture of nature.
An inn stood at the center of the Cullfield. Two hearthstones were burning inside it, to warm the place, but the cold was still dominating every corner of the inn. People devoured meat and gulped ale as they talked and laughed and punched each jokingly. At the corner three figures were sitting, covered in black. No one paid them any attention, as if they didn't even exist.
"We have searched the entire eastern region of the Eozon Continent," said a woman's voice in frustration, "but we didn't find a clue about our children."
