...extremely cold!

Test Expected Scene (CF 4). 1d10=5. The expected scene happens!

Fate Roll: Does it get cold enough at night to pose a problem? (50/50, CF 4) 1d100=06 - **** yes! There's a cold snap that night.

**** cold does 1d6 cold damage every hour and fatigue sets in after 4 hours, so I'm going to say she wakes up about 4 hours later - fatigued and with only 1 hour's worth of cold damage. 1d6=5. Ooof.

Gilia wakes in the night, not much later, with her teeth chattering. She tries to ignore it at first, but as she sees her breath misting in front of her face, she realizes that it's gotten _really _cold. She can feel numbness settling into her body, and she knows that's not good. I...I gotta get some kind of shelter! She glances at the fire, but it's already down to embers, and even if she built it back up she doesn't think it would be enough to stave off the cold. She just doesn't have the right kind of gear...

She glances at the four moonlit tents, then shakes her head. Don't be a dummy. Pride isn't worth dying for. **** for some warmth, she scrambles over to the nearest tent and crawls inside.

Whose tent is it? Alphabetical 1d4=3. Jamir's!

Inside the tent, it's already quite a bit warmer than outside, and Gilia shivers in relief as she tries to warm up. There's a small figure curled in a bedroll in the tent, and Gilia squints at it in the darkness. "Hal?"

The figure jerks up, a dagger flashing as he rolls to a sitting position. "Who - " In the dim light, Gilia sees Jamir's thin face and goatee. "...Gilia? What are you doing in here, wench?"

"I - it's c-cold," Gilia says, still shivering slightly. Jamir laughs.

"Well, that does happen sometimes, this early in spring. Shame you don't have a tent and bedroll of your own...still, I suppose you can share with me."

"Th-Thanks, Jamir."

"For a price, of course."

"W-What?" Gilia freezes. Jamir smiles and reaches up, running a thumb over her lips.

"Come on, hellspawn. I know you know what I want."

"You're an ass," Gilia says, resentful. "I'm also part of this party."

"You're the charity case of this party."

"That's not true! I cooked the stew!"

"Enough of this," Jamir snaps. He raises a hand and his eyes suddenly glow red in the darkness as he speaks, and Gilia feels herself dropping toward a deep void...