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The shrieking wind whips and stings exposed flesh, driving frozen air into everyone’s eyes and mouth, and into the smallest crevices of the best winter gear. For five days, the relentless blizzard has pummeled nerves and will. The strength to go on is rapidly disappearing, and all fear to sleep, least the snow bury their frozen bodies beneath the drifts. Prayers are offered up to distant deities, spells of protection are cast, and more speculative strategies are discussed. But to what end? No one will admit it, but they all know their time is short. Suddenly a voice calls out over the howl of the winds as a cloaked figure slowly moves into view. "You must be adventurers, your the only ones insane enough to travel though the Frostfell during storm season!"

Clad head to toe in thick winter furs, only the toughly unimpressed expression on her sharp canine features and obviously femine voice offer any clues to the stranger's identity. Before anyone can find their wits to speak, the stranger calls out again. "Follow me if you want to live!"

She doesn't even bother to wait for a response before turning around and slowly pushing her way back though the snow. The travelers look at each other in stunned silence before deciding they have nothing to lose and follow in the woman's rapidly fading footprints into the safety of a simple cabin.

There they find a fire to warm their arching bodies, food to fill their bellies and fresh cider to sooth their parched throats. The wild-looking stranger of vaguely canine cast looks on with a gentle smile as she leans on a gnarled staff of oak engraved with strange symbols, wrapped in leather, and topped with a sprig of holly. "I welcome you to this place and offer you sanctuary here. My name is Khirstia, we have much to discuss."