Snowflake Village looked like a tiny lantern dropped in the middle of a white world. Cold wind drifted over the rooftops and sent soft powder brushing along the eaves. Snow fell in lazy flakes from a starry sky, and every breath Leonel took turned to fog in front of his face. He grinned into the steam like a kid seeing winter for the first time.
There weren't many houses here—just a line of squat stone cottages, a smithy with a low roof, a shrine buried in snow, and a big open square where footprints overlrote each other into a messy tangle.
NPCs were scarce. Vendors huddled under awnings. The only real bustle came from players. And not just any players. Black Lion had taken over the square like they owned the place.
