The Frost

It's snowing.   It's always snowing. None of you can remember what grass looks like. There probably isn't anyone left that can. The time of grassy meadows and towering oaks has long since faded. What remains is a barren wasteland of ice and snow and people who are just as cold as the bitter winds that howl over the mountain tops.   No one knows what caused the Frost, but it's all you can remember. The world has torn itself to shreds with more factions than most people care to count these days. The Seraphim and Other Worlders are on the brink of civil war and everyone is choosing a side. Two sets of the same history are in place and no one will look you in the eye. All the while, the Frost grows ever stronger and each faction blames the others.   It's snowing. It's always snowing. And no one can tell you why. Just that if a solution isn't found soon, the world as we know it is doomed.   What will you do?