A smile formed across Vincent's pale lips when he noticed the castle cold stone walls. He pulled his cloak closer to his body, hoping that he would find warmth within the castle he pushed forward. When he was a little boy, growing up within the regions of Eastmarch, he would have never saw snow fall like this or experience such freezing cold weather. To say that he was out of his element would be a understatement, and he was currently having a hard time adapting to the cold weather. "I am almost there" he muttered under his breath, watching the cold air condense the moisture within his breath into tiny droplets of liquid water and ice. If his familiar was here, the crow would have been perched on his shoulder, and he would have been mentally cursing him out for Vincent taking him into such a cold climate.
But since Vincent did not know theses people well, he decided to leave the crow familiar behind. So no doubt right now Ainur would be perched next to a fire enjoying the warmth, lucky little buzzard. Sometimes Vincent wished that he could simply dominate the creatures mind and live life as a crow: life would be so much easier than.
One of the million snowflakes fell onto Vincent's porcelain mask and down onto his shoulder, where it collected into the mounds of snow that he was tracking through. If only he could be one of those divine creatures from his realm, those that could take to the skies in the form of dragons or great eagles, that would make traveling so much easier. But no he had to be a mortal, someone who could not change his shape to take to the skies, someone who was weak and pathetic. His eyes started to flare with anger, and he clenched his fist. If Ainur was here he would know the right words to calm Vincent down, but the stupid bird decided to be lazy and sleep next to a fire and stay warm. "You know Ainur, if I get into this guild I am going to make you fly here" he grumbled to himself, great he was now talking to himself.
Vincent turned around to admire the snow tracks they made, and decided that it was time to stop his grumbling. Eventually after what seemed to be hours of walking through the snow, Vincent finally arrived at the front of the fortress. For a moment he wondered if he should actually join this evil guild: furthermore, he wondered if they would let him in. Granted he would do anything in order to recreate his coven and avenge the death of his mother, his mother. The thought of her threatened to bring tears, but he managed to replace sadness with anger and open the door to the devil's den. He would not let his family down. Vincent couldn't help but feel a sense of fear rush through him, and he wondered what twisted creature shall greet him first. With a note of hesitation Vincent alone entered into the cold fortress, past the doors and into the castle itself.