You are exhausted as you enter the small village.

The strong winds pushing through are hardly stopped by the almost rotting wooden cottages outlining the streets.

It creates a cacophony of sounds, a mixture of creaking wood, doors slamming shut and opening on their own. Gravel stone, leaves and branches are blown across the road in front of you.

If the village hadn’t been abandoned it might have looked quite picturesque. Aquamarine blue roof tops adorn the houses, each in their own sizes.

You spot Maldred up ahead, briskly walking into the largest house of them all.