The kingdom by the sea is cruel. Waves crash against its ragged cliffs with a mighty roar. The icy ocean air is relentless in its assault on all life on the surface. Through the cobbled streets in the town square, a royal procession marches, their prize ensnared and displayed like a trophy of war. Merchants and customers scramble to clear the path for the morbid party.

A small child loses grasp of his ball; mother and son watch with horrified eyes as it rolls to a perfect stop in front of the lead barbarian. The mother swaddles her son in the fabric folds of her skirt, like hiding him from view could undo this mistake.

The lead barbarian grunts. An unpleasant sound coughed up the back of his throat, made even more unpleasant by his appearance. Blood glistens in his wiry, rusty, unkempt beard. His eyes - hard, flinty, and set deep in his skull - convey no indicator of his supposed human soul. His hair hangs limp just below his ears. As he brushes his hand haphazardly through his clumsy fringe, onlookers note, with rising terror, the dark unidentifiable liquid that remains long after his hand is back by his side.

“Wha's this then?” he bellows. The crowds milling near...