The snowstorm howled through the streets of the desolate city, not even the undead were wandering through the hellscape that presented itself. Two figures, heavily dressed with deep black cloaks surrounding their bodies, stomped through the mess that the System had created for them to fight through.

One of the figures had a massive double-bladed battleaxe strapped to its back, the corded and stacked muscles visible even through the multiple layers of clothing it wore. The only visible features were the beady black eyes that were visible through the clear goggles the figure was wearing and the hard long tusks jutting from its mouth.

The other figure was smaller, but it had an equally large blade attached to its back. A long silver tail trailed behind it while its wings, while visible, were tightly bound an covered as best they could. Such appendages tended to freeze in the sub-zero weather.

“Grah! Fuck dis snow,” growled the larger figure as it waded through the waist-deep snow, cutting a trail for the smaller figure behind it. “Dumbest thing evah. Dis is fuckahn stooped!”

The figure behind him only grunted, not particularly against what the big man had just said. Just unable to speak as the journey had made them both weary. The winged figure listened closely to their surroundings, ensuring through its abilities and skills that nothing would sneak up on them. Even in this weather, there were dangers that were not of a natural variety.

Suddenly it froze, causing the living snowplow to stop in turn. “Whatz it bein? Gotz sumtin?”

“Perhaps,” whispered the voice, quiet as could be. The words were distinctly feminine. “There is something there, in that building. What, I know not.” She pointed to a small two-story building with lights flickering inside. Shadows could be seen moving within.

The huge man moved towards the building, but the winged woman stopped him. “Caution. We know not what is within.”

Nodding, the man drew his battleaxe. Wading up to the front door, he put his eye up to several boards that were not as tight as they could have been and looked through the crack. Within, he saw a dozen or so people huddled around a small fire. There were men and women, at least he thought so. But they were dressed… oddly. Unlike any human he had yet encountered on this world.

And they all looked like large skinny lizards.

Walking back to where the woman waited, he made his report in his guttural dialect. Nodding, the woman considered their options for a moment before saying, “Let's knock on the door and announce ourselves. Certainly, they are not human but that doesn’t mean they cannot be reasoned with. Remember the Dwarves.”

“Gah, dumb rockz people. Dey make good furs but theyz weak,” he grunted back.

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The woman replied with mirth in her voice, “I believe, Grok, that you perchance mean they were dumb as rocks. I would not disagree with you, but Dwarves are brilliant in their own stubborn ways.”

“Gah, youz too nice,” Grok grunted back. “You gonna knock or is meez knockin?”

The woman waved her hand towards the door as they approached it, “By all means, knock away. I doubt that me knocking would have any less terrifying an effect than you. I am a tad prettier, I admit, but you have a charm all your own you know.”

Grok flexed a massive arm, “Gah ha ha! Iz strong, armses like steel. Youze though, Youze are tricky and strong,” he said with a smile before raising a massive arm with a ham like fist at the end of it. “Knock, knock.”

He brought his arm down, splintering the door into shards as the beings inside hissed and growled while retreating backward. The few that were armed raised odd-looking firearm-like weapons in their direction while the unarmed moved behind them.

Stepping inside, the duo lowered their hoods. Groks cold, black eyes stared at the bird people with a cold restrained rage, while the woman revealed her long curling horns and perfectly coiffed hair to those in front of them.

“Good evening. We mean you no harm and only wish to share your fire for some time,” the woman said calmly and slowly. “I apologize for the door. Please, let me fix it.”

With a simple wave of her hand, the door was reassembled and set back into its frame, as good as new. The bird people chattered amongst themselves but didn’t respond or come closer. “Again, we mean you no harm. We could have simply come through the wall and butchered everyone if we did,” she explained again, this time getting a response as several of them lowered those odd weapons.

“Who are you? Why did you bring us here?” one bravely asked, eying them closely.

The winged woman smiled softly, her charm disarming the rest of them as they focused on her. “We didn’t bring you here. In fact, I believe you may have been brought here and all died on this world long ago. Either that or you were transplanted from another world when the Integration took place. Either way, you are here now and will need to survive on your own for some time. This is a brutal place, one where strength is the only thing that will see you to safety.”

“That doesn’t answer our question. One moment we were home… the next we were in this hellish place. Filled with undead and unspeakable terrors,” growled the speaker. “What manner of place is this new reality?”

The woman laughed, her tinkling mirth flowing over the group and Grok. Eventually, she brought herself back under control, the grin splitting her lips and revealing sharp jagged teeth. “Oh, you poor, poor souls. This, my fine fellow reptilians, is a world that has recently been integrated into the System. The upheaval has turned this one tame reality into what you may understand to be a Death World.”

The group of lizards hissed collectively at that, the phrase something everyone there understood. Mutter among themselves it took some time before order was restored enough to continue conversating with the fearless woman and her massive Orkin bodyguard.

“Very well then, we will make of it what we can,” the sole speaker hissed out slowly, in a more or less defeated manner. “We still do not know, however, who you two are. Peaceful, so far at least, you may be. Trust though… trust requires an exchange of knowledge and identity.”

Grok growled, “Dis a culture ting? Iz feelin dis a culture ting.”

“Of course Grok, this is most certainly a culture thing,” she replied, soothing the aggressive warrior. Turning back to the group of lizard people, she smiled. “This is Grok, and my name is Gale,” she said to the attentive crowd.

“Welcome to Earth Four.”