0: The Winter is Here...

The days grow short, and the wind grows cold. Not a week hence a fierce
storm ripped its way across Dorthonion, and it is said a trader and his
caravan lost their lives in an avalanche. Flocks were scattered, small
children disappeared in the night, and travelers all over the wilderness
fled to the nearest refuge they could find.

Judging by the often crowded conditions within the tavern, Hule's Outpost is
no doubt this refuge. Strange people with unfamiliar accents mingle with the
blockish features of the House of Hule, men and women huddled close to the
hearth fires as they all wait together for the fiercest winter in memory to
at least weaken its grip on the land, so they may again resume their lives.