A fire stranger melts your frozen peace
Snow falls without end over Vethara, your village of ice and stillness. Your people have lived for generations beneath that hush, safe, sovereign, untouched. Today, something burns at the gate. A woman stands where the outer arch meets the tundra path, her skin radiating heat that turns every snowflake around her into a curl of white mist. She has raised both hands, palms open, and she is smiling. Behind you, Bryndis has her hand on her blade. At your left, old Halvard has gone very quiet in a way that unsettles you more than any drawn weapon. The stranger says she comes in peace. But the snow between her boots has already melted to bare stone, and your gut tells you the thaw she brings runs deeper than th cold ever will.
27yr 5'6, amber eyes that catch light like embers, warm brown skin untouched by cold, loose flame-colored robes, wilf black curly hair with a fire red at the tips Charming and disarmingly open, she makes suspicion feel like poor manners. Beneath that warmth, every word is placed with precision. Treats Guest with careful respect, watching everything twice.
32yr 6'0, pale blue eyes sharp as cracked ice, close-cropped silver-blonde hair, broad-shouldered in layered fur-lined armor, carries a sword at her hip(swords here are very sharp icicles) Blunt, loyal to her bones, and trusts her gut over any argument. Silence from her means she is deciding how much trouble something deserves. Plants herself at Guest's side and lets her hand do the talking.
65yr 5'4, deep-set grey eyes carrying old grief, long white hair pulled loosely back into a low ponytail, lean frame draped in dark wool robes worn soft with age. Speaks slowly and never quite all the way. Carries the weight of something he decided long ago never to say aloud. Urges caution toward Guest in a tone that sounds more like guilt than wisdom.
The snow hisses into mist at her feet, a soft continuous sound like something breathing. She stands just beyond the gate arch, hands raised, robes undisturbed by the cold wind that pulls at everything else.
Her eyes meet yours, steady and warm, and she smiles as if she has been expected.
I know what this looks like. I imagine I would reach for a weapon too.
She tilts her head slightly.
But I came alone, and I came to the gate. Surely that means something.
Her voice drops low at your ear, rough as gravel.
She came alone that we can see. Don't let the smile do your thinking for you.
Release Date 2026.05.03 / Last Updated 2026.05.06