Author Note: Welcome back and it's worth noting that unlike with the first "book" I'm using a proofreader, so hopefully between the two of us the end result will be even better than the first one!

Monster Party Book 2: Wolves will your skin, if you let them in!

Chapter one: It's another wolf bite, howling in the moonlight!

Half a dozen adventurers sat around the table doing what adventures always did when they were not in the process of risking their lives. Boasting about times when they had risked their lives in the past, and playfully gambling amongst themselves with coins that would remain the group's property no matter who won; at least so long as the serving wench didn't mistake the growing pile of precious metal in the middle of the table for an overly generous tip.

Still, some took the evening's entrainment more seriously than others.

"Cal what is that bottle doing on the table?" Demanded a pale skinned woman with ruby red eyes. Callan "Cal" Wright looked at the bottle, his hand, the pot, then back to the container in question.

"What? My belt is full, so I needed some place else to store it." The alchemist answered nonchalantly.

"Just make sure that the stopper is on it nice and tight. I'd hate to see you waste another perfectly good invisibility potion by accidentally spilling it all over my winning hand." The woman pointed out icily.

The pair might have gone on arguing in this particular vein for quite some time but they were suddenly interrupted.

The howl of a wolf echoed rolled through the tavern as the door swung open and a man stumbled through them. He staggered forward five paces and collapsed before he could seal the tavern against the chill outside.

Even for being out in the middle of winter the man was overdressed given Dementlieu's ever moderate seasons. Instead of only a simple cloak pulled tight against the slight chill he had on thick furs, a hooded cape, and boot made from some kind of animal hide.

Strapped to his back was a pair of broken snow shoes, items that most residents of the genteel and temperate domain were more likely to consider some sort of bizarre sporting good than an article of footwear. Clutched in his hand was a bloodstained hatchet that drew gasps of shock and horror from many of the tavern's occupants.

The adventurers were made of sterner stuff though, and one of them in particular, a lady with strange green tinged skin and hair like straw was almost instantly at his side. Looking up close she saw his face was ghostly white, and he sported a pattern of deep blue wounds surrounded by patches of white frost marks on his throat and arms.

A long flowing beard and drooping mustache framed a swarthy face quite at odds with the generally clean shaven look that was currently in fashion. Even simply pressing a gloved hand to his skin brought feelings of such coldness that the blue eyed woman couldn't help but recoil in shock and pain.

"Frostburn? Who gets frostburn in Dementlieu! It'd be like coming down with a bad case of sunstroke in Lamordia!" The alchemist blustered in amazement as he watched.

The woman who had warned Cal to keep his mixtures away from her cards approached the man with neither shame nor fear.

She was dressed in a masculine white jacket, and navy blue pants with a hat perched atop raven hair that was split down the middle a streak of white she seemed far too young for. Without further ado she promptly began to rifle through the man's heavy outfit seeing if she could find anything of interest.

"Mirri!" Florence Bastien, the group's blond haired expert in plant life barked in disapproval.

Mirri Catwarrior the group's expert on all things undead just shrugged callously.

"Look, he's a stiff in more ways than one, and he's clearly not from around here. If we're going to have any chance of figuring out who should rightfully get his belongings and be informed of his death then we'll need to try and find some clues. A journal would be ideal, but I'll settle for an IOU with his name on it..." She pointed out before going back to her macabre scrounging.

"She kind of a has a point, we can't help him, or whoever is depending on him if we don't know how he is..." Piped up a young male voice from the table.

James Firecat the group's expert in discovering and disarming traps, hadn't abandoned his seat. Like Mirri he wore a hat, though his had such a wide brim that the only way to discern his hair color was to observe him from behind and spot the surprisingly bright red follicles trailing down the back of his neck. Red was obviously James' favorite color for he wore a jacket, pants and pair of boots of the same color.

"We must summon up the gendarmes!" Suggested one of the tavern's native occupants.

"That's not a good idea..." Announced a calm voice.

It belonged to a man with long silver hair; his left eye was green and his right was covered by an eyepatch. He was dressed in a midnight black outfit with a few silver markings designed to break up the outline of a human form when seen in the dark. His name was Alexander Diamondclaw, and he was the group's leader.

"If I left a glass of water outside, it'd be even money weather or not it would be frozen in the morning. The only way that a person could freeze to death would be if magic was involved. If there's an evil mage out there... well it'd be best if we dealt with them." Alexander promised.

The other occupants of the tavern exchanged somewhat worried glances. Then they decided that letting "somebody else" deal with this particular problem was a very good idea indeed.

"Well let's get it over with. As usual I'll be looking after the money till we can get back to it." Announced a blue haired elf named Devi Skye.

She wore a close cut blue dress, and as the group's quartermaster she was in charge of making sure they were always well fed enough that they'd end up dying in battle rather than of starvation or thirst.

So with the money secured they headed out in the darkness.

Except that it wasn't quite as dark as it should have been, no sooner did they step outside then they found themselves presented with a glowing fog bank, one that was so intensely white that it stood out as if it was still midday.

It's almost blinding whiteness forced Mirri to avert her gaze and the others to squint painfully.

"Oh this is bad..." Cal muttered to himself.

Then those who could still look straight ahead suddenly saw an alabaster furred wolf poke its head out of the fog bank glaring malevolently at them.

"Really, really bad. Let's go back inside and maybe it'll be gone in the morning!" He revised.

Not wanting anything at all to do with whatever was about to happen next he did a quick about face and yanked open the tavern's door ready to retreat back to its marginal safety.

Except throwing the doors open didn't reveal the building they had just left, but another rolling cloud of white mist which washed over the six instantly. Darkness and cold swirled about them completely obscuring all sense of direction.

Time seemed to hang suspended in the biting cold the mist brought with it. It could have lasted for only an instant, or it could have been an eternity. Either way as reality or something approximating it at least returned it came with the crunch of cold dry snow under boot.

Cold remained as ever present as it had been before, but now at least it seemed to be a non-supernatural chill, though that was scant comfort to the group. Gone was Dementlieu's mild seasons, they were now being blasted with arctic fury.

Several varieties of evergreens, mostly pine, spruce, and fir stretched on as far as the eye could see. Powdery snow lay over the branches and in deep drifts beneath the boles of the trees, creating a realm of beautiful white and merciless chill.

The position of the sun had shifted, instead of it being night the sky was now only deepening toward twilight. With the dimming of the sun of course came the process of still greater cold.

The adventurers were lucky to have been wearing gloves on principle otherwise their fingers might already have been in the grips of frostbite.

"Cold... way too cold... reminds me of home... and home was always way too f**king cold..." Cal Wright shivered.

"Eh I've had worse, nothing like a little chill the air to really get the blood pumping if you ask me..." Noted Mirri who true to her word did not seem bothered by the temperature in the least despite the fact that she was dressed no more heavily than any of the others.

"Florence?" Alexander needed only one word to get his plan across.

One by one Florence approached each member of the group except for Mirri and placed a hand to their forehead before repeating the process upon herself. As she did so their shivering and foot stamping lessened.

The cold was not diminished but its bite seemed to have lessened. In this case, it was luckily due to druidic magic as opposed to the onset of hypothermia.

"Well, we're not about to freeze to death. Let's see if we can figure out where are, the best way to do that is to probably try and see if we can't find someone else who is native to this place, and hopefully not frozen to death unlike the last one we ran into. Mirri, I don't suppose our mysterious stranger had anything as convenient as a map of his homeland on him?" Alexander asked.

"Sorry Sir, I've still got no idea who he was, where he came from, or where we are. The only thing I'm even close to certain of is that between you, me and my Kitten, I've got a feeling we're not in Dementlieu anymore." She reflected.

"Funny you should mention not having an idea where he came from, because I think I do!" James happily announced.

Heads turned in his direction, and he pointed towards set of tracks left by someone in heavy boots. They came to an abrupt stop just short of were the adventurers had suddenly found themselves.

"Well between standing around until Florence's magic runs out and we start to freeze again, and following those tracks, I vote for following the tracks." Devi advised.

Alexander nodded in agreement and the group set out eager to try and find out just where they were, and if they couldn't find something to help them survive in (or better yet escape from) this frozen wasteland.

End Chapter

Author's notes Chapter one: Sorry for having this opening chapter be so short, the next chapter should be of a more normal length. I just wanted to have things end on the most dramatic/ appropriate moment.

For those who were paying close attention, yes our protagonists started out this story playing the "real life" version of Red Dragon Inn, another excellent party game that I can't recommend highly enough if your friends understand that the Pixie gets it first right out of the gate.

Also as you may have noticed, given my eternal refrain of there is no continuity, THERE IS ONLY THE MISTS I'm starting out this chapter with a refresher on how the characters look to most ordinary people of the Mists. If you find this helpful that's well and good if you find it unnecessary repeating of what we already know, then let me know and I'll work to not include it in any future books.