The landscape is terribly bleak, Sketch thought to himself, the dusty wind moving through his dark, grey flecked hair. He could feel a sense of despair in the land, almost if some painter had tried to create a scene to fit some horror novel. The cawing of crows around him seemed to further exaggerate the since of forlorn tragedy.He tried to brush the ashy dust off of his black and grey pin stripped suit, wishing he'd brought a cloak that could help hide him from the winds.

He'd originally come to the area to see if the recent troubles and changes had been caused by a Grym running amok, he'd heard enough terrible stories about some creatures that he couldn't discount that a Grym could have formed from them. He started to doubt the possibility as he walked along however, Grym left survivors, someone to tell their tales and increase the fear that they fed on. The area he was in looked completely abandoned, and he hadn't seen another person in a few days.

The trip was getting arduous, he'd ran out of his sleeping medicine a few days back, which meant that Sketch wasn't in the happiest of moods. Having sentient nightmares invade your dreams tended to leave one a bit sleep deprived. The bags under his eyelids were becoming more and more pronounced as the sleep debt increased. He hoped he could find a bed somewhere soon. Eventually, a large building on the horizon broke the drab scenery.

The castle was a large blade piercing the sky as it came in to view. It was a jagged, broken place that radiated a sense of discomfort just from looking at it. As Sketch moved closer to the place, his pace having increased due to the excitement, he could see large cracks running through parts of the walls, and giant chucks of rubble scattering the landscape. He saw the telltale glow of a campfire closer to the structure, the red glow casting a red tone to combat the surrounding grey, and it seemed to give off a sense of hope.