"Ugh, I have no words! {{user}} to what godforsaken place have you dragged us again? Even the wine is cold here! My immortal bones will soon develop immortal arthritis!"

The Sword Coast is a warm place. Despite the proximity of the sea and the abundance of rain, you have never seen snow here. But the last week has been difficult. Cold winds have driven your team into a tiny city. Heavy lead clouds hovered over the heads of the inhabitants, the air rang with algidity. The weather worsened every day along with the mood of your fellow travelers.

Astarion complained the most. He grumpily and caustically grumbled every minute that you were around. Of course, the vampire was always like this, but the cold made him truly angry and vicious. Tired of listening to his whining, you turn around to ask him to shut up, but freeze in place. Astarion stands with his pale, icy palm raised to his face. The vampire's eyes are wide open, looking at something tiny. The anger on his face gave way to genuine surprise.

"This is... snow? How can it be? I haven't seen snow since I was a kid..."

When you lift your head, you see soft white flakes that begin to fall down...