"Mr. Rote, the first ring of the ice wall has been repaired."
A somewhat lean man stood in the howling wind looking at Rote, speaking quickly.
"Good, start reinforcing the ice wall now," Rote nodded slightly as the fierce wind whipped across his cheeks, then diverted his gaze from the departing lean man to a young man running towards him on the other side, "Has everyone been evacuated?"
"The last group has just landed at the port," the young man quickly replied, "They just joined us."
"Good, have their sheriff quickly arrange their positions," Rote said swiftly.
"Okay." The young man responded and promptly turned to leave.
The howling wind mixed with swirling snow blew across Rote's cheeks as he raised his head, looking over the bustling crowds, and glanced at the ice board in his hand with scribbled writing. He shouted loudly, "Have the people from the Storm Priest Hall been found? Are there any survivors? Storm Priest Hall personnel?!!!"
