Log of Elberon the Great, Vol 5

Winter was, not to my surprise, home to a great indoor blizzard and what the mercenaries thought of as artificial stone mountains. Yet they were not mountains, but great towering silos of frozen water. And the cold! Not even the high mountains compared to such chills, and we were soon trading furs amongst ourselves to keep warm! Yet just as soon as the wind had picked up, it died down, the temperature dropping and the icy waters unfreezing, yet still cold. It became clear that if I was to progress through these silos, I would have to take advantage of the variable chill, quickly crossing through paths formed by the ice floes as impromptu bridges. As clever a solution as any solution thought up by me.

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