The great calamity had struck, the world covered in clear white snow, the sky as black as the deepest depths of hell itself. The tribe of canine beast-men had no way to fight off the endless barrage of frozen droplets storming their village. The wisest of the tribe, Sh’nopii, the third, embarked on the long and difficult journey to reach the witch of the west, in search of a way to defend their village from the never-ending snow. The witch had a keen interest in the tribe, and so she gifted them the arcane cleansing sceptre. With it, the tribe finally pierced through the snow barricade surrounding their village. They settled back inside their houses, all seemed well. Alas, the brave one who acquired the mystical sceptre had forgotten upon what terms the witch had given it to them. Her words were as clear as day ‚SHALT MY GIFT NOT BE REPAYED BY THE RISING OF THE SUN, THOU SHALT SUFFER MY CURSE!!!!!!!‘. Soon, the snow storm grew stronger, and angrier. Not even their enchanted tool of witchcraft could make its way through the all-covering snow. Despite their struggle to survive another day, the tribe was consumed by the snow, like a rock in the far reaching desert sands, never to be found again. The end..!