Emma's Adventures is a new monthly column for Eurogamer supporters written by Emma Kent - someone with an uncanny knack for finding strange adventures in games.
In the wild, abandoned wastes of the Consecrated Snowfield, a warrior stands on the precipice of a frozen ledge, his broad frame silhouetted against a soulless sky. His ragged cloak lifts in the wind, catching slightly on his armour. The crunch of snow behind him betrays the footsteps of something living, and he turns to face his opponent. Another challenger is approaching. Foolish.
The warrior unsheathes his sword, dull edges twisted and curled from the brutal force of previous collisions. Dark red lines have dried into the hilt. He mutters an incantation under his breath, bracing his body for the bone-shuddering impact of battle. The two figures circle each other, pausing just outside of striking range. For a moment, even the cruel wind stills, lessening her fury to watch the duel below. Then the veteran lets out a cry, raising his terrible blade to land the first blow. But to his horror, his opponent has already moved. An unfamiliar stab of fear runs through the warrior. He looks to the ground.