The stranger stepped off the locomotive on to the platform of the train station. The icy cold wind hit his face that shook his drowsiness away. Snow everywhere. He cant imagine anybody living through this weather even for a day. But right before him is a town blistering with life. People come and go, minding their own business. It seemed like the denizens of this town don’t even feel the cold. They, more that often, have other more important things to attend to.
The train station is right at the edge of the town in the business district. The street is filled with townsfolk and horseless carriage run by steam engines much like the train he got off from. Like most of the towns he’s been to, Ironsnow’s economy is mainly coal. He can already see the coal mines at the side of Whitefang Peak at the other side of town.
It’s been a long trip. His legs ached caused by sitting all through out the train ride and the snowy breeze does not help one bit. He’s here, or has been, he knows it. He can feel his presence. His “Mark”.