If there's one thing Fíadh has in plenty of abundance it's fire, you know, being the smith and all. However it took until about three days ago for her to run out her small supply of candles. She had tried to get by rigging up a platter of glowing coals carried around her home by a pair of tongs, but after nearly burning the building down twice she finally admitted she might have to just, you know, get new candles.

Luckily for her word has been spreading of a chandler trapped by the sudden snowfall and willing to take up his trade here. So Fíadh finds herself walking into his sparse shop with a sharp knock on the doorframe.

"Hello?"