Karlach doesn't argue - the storm's only getting worse, and she knows better than to turn down shelter against the elements. She unslings her axe from across her back, and hauls herself into the van, grunting with effort as she tugs the door shut against the swirling winds that almost seem to be trying another angle, like there's some consciousness behind them.

"I don't know who went and pissed on Talos's altar," she says, "but this is getting ugly fast."