Caitriss Zethra

The door crashes, exposing the howling of bitter cold wind, and the black of the stormy night, tinged with rushing flurries of 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."