A month later, Winter Itself had unleashed its Endless Shivers upon the hapless Assol Outlands! It has been an uneventful month of nearly no events. The Madman’s Mountains turned white and the Ravin’ River gleamed like frozen glass, allowing playful children and wary travelers ALIKE to ford its frozen rapids.

Blom looked out the window of the Ragged Maiden, the main window, the lookin’ window where things were seen through it, and grimaced. Snow covered the streets of Gilba Gilba and the lamp lights were hidden behind a cast of ICE. ICE! That was the local issue: how to unfreeze them lamp lights so the lighters can get ‘em lit!

Not Blom’s concern. Blom had forgotten much of what had transpired the month before, a deeply unsatisfying resolution to a fairly uninspired build-up of tension, but he well knew the consequences of failing to outline the arc of a project sufficiently. He would not make the same mistake again, if ever a mistake was in fact made.

“Aye, the Endless Shivers are here then,” remarked one of the inn’s guests, seated down at the other end of the way there and nursin’ a tankard o’ somethin. He had arrived last night in the blusterin’ blowshow of the Endless Shivers. They were FIERCE this year, uprooting trees and shootin’ em across the Plains, the Wildness, the expanse of vastness that separated the Outlands from the Inlands, near where the crown was.

“Aye,” nodded Blom sagely. All sages knew to stay indoors for most of this weather, venturin’ out only when they had to, and even then it was a discouraged act. “Where you from then, aye?”

“Inland,” muttered the guest. His face was drawn but pleasant, a clean-shaven face (which was a rarity for travelers given the length of the voyage from Inland) hidden partially behind that ol’ tankard.

“Inland,” Blom repeated by way of acknowledgement. “What’s the talk these days in that part of Assol?”

“Ahh,” answered the guest. He ventured no further comment.

“You got a name there, lad?” Blom was pokin’, oh he was pokin’ and a proddin’. “Got myself a name o’ Blom now.”

“Aye, your name be known. Ol’ Guesterfer I be, if you want me to be somebody. Guest for short.” Guest the guest’s shoulders shook with UNBELIEVABLE mirth.

“Aye, well pleased to meet ya, Guest. Now what’s the talk out there near the Crown?”

“Ah well… citizens these days not too happy. Not too happy indeed. Taxes, levies, exports, imports.”

“Indeed,” Bloom said. “That so now.”

“Aye. Tryin’ not to pay too much attention to it. The politics stuff is a bit of a washerbee if you know what I mean. Now let's turn up that fire!" Guest mimicked a shiver as the Endless Shivers outside knocked down a barn on the other side of town.