Another bloody Christmas gone by, thank God. I take a drink of firewhiskey, feeling my blood slowly defrost. That walk nearly bit off my fingers, I thought, gingerly testing my digits for feeling. I really should dress warmer…I laughed. Yeah, sure, as soon as a sack of galleons lands in my lap. I notice the bartender eyeing my ragged robes. "Relax," I snap, throwing him a few sickles. I finish off the whiskey and grab the bartender's wrist. "Oh, and keep 'em coming." I turned towards the door. The snow really was beautiful, though intent on freezing anyone in its path. As I looked around the bar, I glanced at a clock. Shit. I'll never make it back before dark now. I'd better head out anyway. I grab my coat and down the whiskey the bartender had just placed on the bar. As I open the door, I walk straight into the nightmare—and a person.