Festive lights are found in the Gnome Grove near the edge of the village. Only one family lives nearby and, for some reason, they are unafraid of the fae who live there.

The cold winter nights are lonely and dark. While the villagers huddle indoors, the creatures of scary stories roam the world outside.

The morning mist rose from the road as the sun rose, burning away the night.

Vibrant streets greeted me in the city.

It’s always the same, curious eyes follow me through the room, down every street.

The breeze whispered through the leaves that last morning in Velen.

The path led away from the crossroads, although no board labeled its destination. Shrubs had started to grow over it as it lay forgotten.

In the dark forest, there are no neon lights. The only cheer comes from the campfire that we hope is bright enough to keep the wolves away.

Hidden alleys are all around, even in the peasant villages. These are much better than the dark ones of the cities.

Ruined castle walls glow in the light of the setting sun.