Wendy removed the large, wooden bar that lay across the Lodge’s main entrance. She swung open the huge double doors, and her jaw dropped at sight of four of the most well armed adventurers she’d ever seen.
Wendy frequently believed, and was often correct, that she was the most powerful wizard in 100 miles. But not today. Today, Wendy immediately recognized the arcane power surging through the pale blue runes on the robe of a master wizard. They crackled with energy, faintly glowing as they danced across the surface. The elf walked using a simple-looking staff, though it was obvious he didn’t need it, and under his robe, he wore two massive books, both covered in intricate glyphs and strapped to either side of his body with leather thongs.
Standing on either side of the wizard were two armored women: a human in pale scale mail, with two curved blades strapped to her back along with maybe eight daggers of various sizes strapped to her legs, and a half-elf in snow white leathers with a massive bow strapped to her back.
The bow was nearly as tall as the woman who carried it, and while its glowing green runes and polished, ebony frame were noteworthy, the dual quivers she wore on her back interested Wendy more than the bow itself. Sticking out of the first was 20-30 arrow shafts of varying lengths, each built with different woods and unique feathers. The second quiver, however, was significantly smaller. The entirety of its black, leather surface glowed with the same faint, green runes as the bow itself, yet it held only one arrow.
Finally, Wendy’s gaze found her way back to their fourth companion, who stood a few yards back. The orc was shirtless, shoeless, and smiling absent-mindedly as they steadily caught tiny snowflakes with their bare hands. As the snow came to rest in small piles on each fingertip, it didn’t melt, as if their hands were just as cold as the air around them. They gave Wendy a pleasant nod before continuing their private game.
After taking a moment to process the whole image, Wendy turned a confused expression to the three in front of her, saying, “Welcome to the Winter Witch Lodge! Please, come in from the cold.”
For their part, the members of Direct Karma were used to a lengthy inspection upon meeting new people, so nothing seemed amiss until Wendy opened her mouth and spoke a language that none of them understood. Using their Rings of Silent Speech, they quickly confirmed with each other that no one actually spoke the native language of Tyrellia.
Well this is just awkward, Lucille thought to her companions.
Let’s just try asking to repeat herself in Draconic, Nadine suggested.
Why would we ask her in Draconic? Fabien scoffed.
What if she’s Wendyzphara?
You think she’s Wendyzphara, the famed Winter Witch of Drakistan?
Sure, why not?
That couldn’t possibly be the Winter Witch. She looks like a… a country bumpkin!
Hey, I think she looks cute! Lucille interrupted. I love those slippers.
Look, she at least works for Wendyzphara. Nadine thought, exasperated. I’m just going to try.
She turned back to Wendy, who was growing increasingly nervous that she’d offended the party by taking so long to address them. Fortunately, Nadine’s words set her at ease.
“Hello, we are a group of adventurers called Direct Karma. We’re not from around here, obviously,” she laughed nervously before clearing her throat. “Would you happen to speak Draconic?”
“I do!” she responded, smiling.
Nadine shot a quick glare at Fabien before continuing, “Excellent! Could you possibly repeat what you just said?”
“Of course!” Wendy laughed. “I was just inviting you in.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” Lucille responded, starting for the door with Nadine in step. “You were kind of gesturing toward the door when you said it.”
“I’m just used to Fabien knowing the language everywhere we go,” Nadine shrugged.
“Why would I speak Tyrellian?” Fabien asked incredulously, following a few paces behind his companions. “I’ve never been to Tyrellia before.”
“I just assume you know everything,” Lucille chimed in.
“Well, I don’t,” Nadine said flatly. “But you do seem to speak the language everywhere we go. Besides, don’t you have some way to communicate magically, even if you don’t speak the language?”
Fabien’s cheeks suddenly flushed as he stammered, “I didn’t think to prepare it today.”
“Tsk tsk,” chided Nadine, stepping through the threshold. A wave of warmth washed over her, and she immediately stripped off her gloves and scarf. Lucille did the same.
Before entering the massive doors himself, the wizard turned back to his orcish companion and called, “Are you coming, Dolfus?”
The orc was still about twenty feet from the entrance, and the snow they’d been collecting on their fingertips had formed into conical stacks, about nine inches high. They gave a quick nod before reaching into a bag on their side and pulling out a bottle of dark liquid. They poured the liquid onto the stacks of snow, shifting the bright white color to a deep purple. After replacing the vial in their pouch, they raised their empty hand in the air, making a tight fist. After a few seconds, they took that hand and quickly grasped each cone, melting the outside ever so slightly before allowing the cold to freeze the snow back into place, forming a hard shell on its outside but preserving the snowy texture inside. When this process was done, the orc ran to the wizard and offered one of their creations, kicking up a light flurry of snow on their path.
“Oo, Dolcicles! And my favorite flavor, too,” the wizard cheered.
The two of them walked through the door, and Dolfus excitedly handed out the treats, saving the largest of them for their host.
Caught off guard, Wendy accepted the gift hesitantly before asking “...What is it?”