``` [Lost Era 1001, July 21, clear (for now), Gray Mountains.
1 year, 1 month, and 14 days since being kicked out of the tavern.
"For now" meant that after we crossed the Gravel Zone yesterday, the road had continued for a third kilometer, with nothing but flat ground as far as the eye could see.
Seeing the sun setting, we decided to camp on the spot. After a full day of travel today, we would cross directly to the other side of the mountain. Though the descent was steep, it was relatively quick, which would let us reach the plains in another day—
But a sudden blizzard in the middle of the night had nearly buried our camp.
Perhaps you cannot imagine such a scene, so all I can tell you is that you could not see a Dwarf at all in that snow.
It had only just stopped, so the sky before us was clear for the moment.
The south was no colder than the north, whether in the Tyron Empire or the Lord Alliance. So even with the rugged terrain and high elevation, seeing wind and snow in the scorching south was like a male drow keeping a harem—I mean, it should have been impossible.
Though the snow had stopped, the thick fog refused to disperse.
Considering that we were at the mountaintop, blindly leading the way while unfamiliar with the terrain could easily leave us misled by the white snowfield. I did not particularly mind, but there were still crying little Green skins in the tribe. In the spirit of humanitarianism, we had to consider them.
Food was plentiful. I planned to watch the weather a little longer. If the clouds and fog cleared, the weather remained sunny, and the snow melted,
then the Green skins