The fog sweep over transylvania. On mountain doom, snow and ice, mythical winds. The air is filled with foul voices from souls lost on their way. To the heights they carried themselves. On a journey they went and never came back. Lost in the snow invisible tracks. Winds can be tricky. Encapturing. Embracing with cold. Now haunting these paths. C’mon! On a journey they went and never came back. On a journey they went and never came back. On a journey they went and never came back. On a journey they went..