Several men at The Starwind Alehouse were laughing at a joke just told. Tankards of imported Calimshan Ale were being downed quickly as the night went on. Those not enjoying the fireplace that warmed the pub, those outside, had to endure a horrible blizzard that had gripped Silverymoon for more than a week.
Around Midnight, the door of the tavern opened, and a burst of cold air and snow shot into the cozy common room. Several of the now asleep men, grunted, by did not awaken. A dark cloaked figure stepped into the pub and closed the door, examining the place as it went. The stranger walked briskly to the bar counter, where the barman sat on a stool, asleep. A pale, dexterous hand reached out from under the stranger's cloak and rapped the counter top twice. The barman shook awake, dazed, then stood quickly when he saw his customer. He groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then spoke.
"What can I get ye... sir?" A female voice, smooth and quiet spoke from under the hood.
"Water..."
"Oh! Of course young lass, terribly sorry. One water coming right up." At this, the barman took a glass in one hand, then dipped a ladle-full of water into the it with the other. Not a second after he put the glass on the counter, had the same pale hand taken it. The girl put the glass to her lips, leaving her hood draped over her face, and drank deeply from her cup. Once, finished, she left the glass there on the counter and walked away. The stranger went to a large cushioned chair near the fire, and sat. The barman, weary of strangers, but curious about this girl, sat back on his stool, watching her carefully.
An hour later, the girl stirred, having been still the entire time. Her hooded head turned to the barman, who was now asleep.
Then, a rustling noise came from outside the front door of the tavern. The hooded stranger seemed to turn to the sound almost before it could be heard. She stood quickly, and strode to the door, leaning against the wall next to it as she fumbled for something under her cloak. More rustlings, it sounded as though several... 'somethings', were wondering weither to enter or not. The girl ceased moving, presumably ready for whatever was behind that door.
Something sharp scraped against the wooden portal, testing it. Then, it was quiet.
BAM! The door flew off its hinges, flying all the way across the room, and into a sleeping man. The rest of the tavern patrons immediately woke, standing quickly, and found themselves staring at three, large, vicious Worgs. Dark blue fur, matted and dirty, covered the horrible creatures, and eyes that glowed with an evil light. Several of the now-awake barmen took nearby objects in hand, ready for a fight.
But before anything happened, a dark figure, the girl, stepped forward. She unflinchingly raised a pale hand from her cloak towards the Worgs, fingers outstretched. The room began to darken, the candles dimmed in their brackets. The focus of this darkness seemed to be this stranger, this person nobody knew. Just as one of the vile wolves was about to leap at this seemingly defenseless target, a loud crack, one like thunder sounded out in the room.
CRACK! A flash of light, a bolt of energy, then quiet. The candles began to regain their brightness. What the men in that room saw would haunt them for the rest of their lives. The three Worgs lay dead upon the floor, torn to ribbons. What little remained of them was scattered about the common room, a truly gruesome sight. Then, one of the men looked about, and spoke.
"Where is the one that did this? Where did the stranger go?" They all looked around. SLAM! The side door of the tavern was forced shut by the blowing wind, and a few snowflakes fluttered about the room on the gust of wind, but not before they caught a glimpse of the stranger.
A footstep was heard, the edge of her cloak was seen... that was all...