The snows of Trilonia coated the dark city like a mound of sugar. No one dared to go out during the cold winter, fearing the delusional sorceress of the South may strike.
With her wooden wand and metal rod made by the Galician Elves, she was powerful and feared among many. Her castle lay faraway from Trilonia, safe from the snow. Only the strongest of men have survived coming back from her lairs and they even could not open their mouths to speak of it.
The snows visited Trilonia again and the sorceress was yet to come.