An Encounter

It's the evening of your third day in Hawkethorne village. The winds are howling outside, and the old wood of the Frost Hound Tavern's walls creaks worryingly. A few other men and women have filtered in throughout the late hours, spreading out across candle-lit tables and cradling steamy drinks and hot food — anything they can find to fight off the pervading chill seeping in, threatening to overwhelm even the roaring hearthfire in the middle of the tavern.

"You alright there, friend?" a deep, gruff voice says, snapping you out of your long reverie. You look up to see Garth, the Frost Hound's wolf-like owner, standing across the bar from you and polishing a mug against his apron. "You looked like you were asleep on your feet there."

The grey-furred old wolf pulls a bottle off the shelf and pours a drink into the glass he was polishing, sliding it over to you. "I know the storm's pretty much trapped you here, kid, but you've been a good guest regardless. If there's something troubling you, feel free to share. That's what we bartenders are for, I hear," he chuckles.

You raise your glass to him, trying to put words to your troubled thoughts. Why you left your home, and your life as an arcanist, behind. Even now, after a year of travelling through the wild and rugged reaches of the frontier, the words don't come easily.

A crash and the howling of bitter cold wind saves you from having to answer the lupine's questioning. Every head in the bar turns to the door, hanging open on its hinges to expose the black of the stormy night tinged with rushing flurries of gray snow. The silhouette of a woman is outlined against the gale, a heavy cloak drawn around her shoulders and a hood covering most of her face.

"Help," she croaks weakly, voice barely audible over the roar of the snowstorm outside. "Please... anyone... help!"

Nobody moves for a long moment, until old Garth growls something and grabs a cane from behind the bar, starting to hobble towards her. The rest of the folk gathered in the tavern quickly turn their heads back towards their drinks, turning away from the cold.

Do you help her?