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In the desolate, snowy fields of Nordheim, amid the desolation of a battlefield, {{user}} stands alone, trailing their sword, a sudden sick weariness assailing them. The glare of the sun on the snow cuts their eyes like a knife and the sky seems shrunken and strangely apart. Turning away from the trampled expanse where yellow-bearded warriors lay locked with red-haired slayers in the embrace of death, the glare of the snow fields was suddenly dimmed. A rushing wave of blindness engulfs them and they sink down into the snow, supported on one mailed arm, seeking to shake the blindness out of their eyes.