Goldbird and Whispers of Snow

Listen up, we are in this together. My hide is on the line, so you'd better make good choices. Sure, everything looks calm right now: The usual mists wafting in from the Red River at nightfall, the same old smugglers sneaking into harbor, the bards spin their tales in the taverns, while the harlots are making their rounds. But, the good citizens are huddling in their warm little houses, speaking their prayers to Sol. They pray for order, stability and the holy law to protect them. They'd better pray real hard, cause strange things are starting to happen on Rador's day, a burglary goes unreported, a demon walks the streets, and there are whispers of snow.

An entry for Endmaster's Dark Fantasy Contest