A single gnome walked along a rough stone path, her only companion a small firefly perched on her shoulder. The flat tundra of Icewind Dale rolled out in every direction around her, stopped only by the high mountains of the Spine of the World that surrounded the whole area protectively.
A thick mat of gray clouds obscured the sky, promising rain later. The gnome had made her journey to Icewind Dale in the heat of midsummer in an attempt to get the finest weather possible in the frozen land. It seemed, though, that every season was miserable here - winter, autumn, and spring encased in ice, and summer rainy and muddy.
An ugly rug of yellowed grass, accentuated by the occasional hill or mud puddle, covered the Dale, the only repose from it being a poorly-paved stone road leading straight to Targos, the closest member of Ten-Towns to the gnome's destination.
Although it was summer, it still wasn't as warm as the traveler would've liked. The gnome wrapped her woolen green cloak around herself tightly and pulled her hood farther over her head, covering her brown hair. Although she also wore a long-sleeved white shirt, long brown pants, and warm black boots, it was all she could do to not be soaked by rain and frozen by wind until she could make it to an inn - which, thankfully, wasn't too far at this point.
The gnome had traveled far from the Host Tower of the Arcane in Luskan, a bustling port town to the south of Icewind Dale, along the Sword Coast. As an aspiring mage(and an avid collector of wands), she had taken some time off her studies to head farther north and meet Addedearber, the famed wand maker of Icewind Dale.
A loud ringing noise like a bell suddenly went off in her head. Her magical defenses had detected something over to the right, and she glanced around to see what it might be.
It was easy enough to find it, though, at least once the creature in question had leaped out of its hiding place behind a hill and roared a roar loud enough to wake the entire city of Waterdeep.
The gnome squealed and her firefly familiar buzzed up in surprise as she took notice of the best. Big, shaggy, white, with a dripping maw filled with sharp teeth. A yeti, the gnome recalled, a beast actually quite common this far north.
With another roar, the yeti rushed foward, swinging a claw straight for its tiny prey. Thinking fast, the gnome leaped back, quick on her toes, and reached a gloved hand back into her cloak to withdraw a small, velvet pouch. The yeti charged yet again, growling as it swung its other paw. The gnome danced back again, her cloak fluttering behind her, and pulled on the string of the pouch, opening it up and reaching inside. The yeti wasn't having any of it, though. Although it had no idea what its prey could possibly have been doing, it was quite aware of the fact that it wasn't yet in its stomach. It charged one more time, this time swinging both paws in an attempt to grab the gnome...
...Instead receiving a faceful of golden powder. It stopped, blinking, not really understanding what had just happened. At least, not until the golden powder suddenly flared a bright light right into its eyes. It stumbled backwards, dazed and confused. The gnome silently cheered and put the velvet pouch back, withdrawing yet another little pouch, this one a brown leather. She withdrew a pinch of rainbow colored dust, made of ground stained windows, and tossed it right into the yeti's face yet again.
The yeti, already confused, already particularly weak to magic, and already incredibly simple-minded, simply could not comprehend the sudden kalaedoscopic burst of color that filled its eyes and promptly fell over, knocked out cold.
The gnome put back her pouch and grimaced at the knocked-out, drooling yeti, wishing she could've just put it out for good. Alas, the gnome was an illusionist, an enchantress, and a diviner - no evoker of elemental power, or conjuror of demons and spirits. She could barely even cast a magic missile, the simplest of offensive spells. Though she could disable and impair an enemy, killing it was a different story.
Fortunately, the gnome was no fool, and knew how to deal with simple beasts. She withdrew a small golden-white wooden wand from her cloak, the opposite side from which her pouches and pockets of spell components hung, and pointed it at the sleeping yeti. She muttered a single trigger word. The air began to hum with magical energy as the wand did its work, picking up the shaggy beast with a hand of pure force. Gritting her teeth with the effort, the gnome slowly moved her wand, the hovering body of the snow monster moving with it, finally dropping the beast behind the hill it was behind before.
Then, the sorceress walked over in front of the yeti, withdrawing yet another pouch, this time of sparkling purple dust, and getting a pinch between her fingers. She stomped deep into the muddy grass, really working her feet in to make an indention, and made extremely conspicuous tracks, trickling the dust onto the ground as she went. After about ten stomps, she nodded, looking over her handiwork, and tossed the rest of the dust off in the general direction of the empty dale.
To any normal person, these indentions would look, well, just like that - really conspicuous foot indentions. But to the yeti, as soon as he woke up, he would see a long set of tracks, traveling indefinitely into the distance in a straight line, stopping only at the mountains. Such was the power of illusion, Amyie Silverslink noted with a smile. If you can't beat it, join it - or, in an illusionist's case, trick it.