Each time I wake I go for a stroll, chatting with a few traders. I enter the tunnels to reach Branishor where I can hunt down Haggie and see what bargains he may have.
The voices of the children echo strangely as I traverse UnderValorn. Although the voices rebound through the tunnels some of the tone is muted by the surrounding rock and stone. I don't tarry below ground in case the diminuition of their voices leaves the children in some distress.
When I go to rest the children's chorus is quite soothing and helps me to drift off to my dreams. Those dreams are, for the most part, pleasant. Though there is one I recall which was rather unsettling.
I was roaming the swamp, though in that dream I had no clue as to why I was there. The stench of the place filled my nostrils, sickening me. And then a familiar scent came to me on a slight breeze, cutting through the odours of rot and decay. The aroma of Ellyana's perfume caressed my senses, and the voice I hold dearest in these lands spoke my name. I looked around but could see no sign of her as the voice and scent faded. As for her voice - when she spoke my name was it in greeting, or a cry for help and comfort? I had no way of knowing.
I woke feeling anxious, but the feeling eased when I saw the princess sleeping, so far as I could tell, soundly and safely.

The sky of a cold night was displaying its first sprinkling of stars as we made our way to Caer Laleldan, to attend the ceremony which would mark the passing of Winter's Warming. There was snow all along the Royal Road from Milltown to the Caer. Several had arrived ready for the ceremony when a messenger-bird found me. There was also snow in Dundee, and a few people were unable to get through the deep drifts which blocked their path. I mentioned this fact, and left the meeting-place to give what assistance I could.
True to the spirit which infuses the adventurers in these lands, many followed. I was told that Dundee had been cleared by those able to do so. The only obstacle now was the length of road leading to Caer Laleldan which needed to be cleared so that all who wished could join the ceremony.
The work was long and hard. Piles of snow lay all around, and many aggressive snowmen lay in wait for the unwary. We shovelled snow when we could, fought when we must, went crashing to a life monument from time to time. But slowly we gained ground. Enchanters strengthened those in need, clerics healed those who were injured. With all working together, eventually the path was clear. By unspoken agreement, the snow lying in drifts in the gardens were left untouched for the ceremony.

Torches flared across the gardens, their light reflecting off the snow piled around. Ice crystals glittered in the shifting light as we wrote messages on small pieces of parchment. The messages - our hopes, dreams and prayers for the coming cycles - were attached to lanterns. And then, when all were ready, the torches were doused and the lanterns released. They made a fine sight, the flickering fires within the lanterns shining in the sky amid the brilliant stars. And all the time the light from above illuminated the snow scattered across the gardens, sparkling and glinting off the tumbled mounds. All-in-all it made a wondrous sight. I watched as the lanterns slowly drifted across the night sky, and eventually out of sight. The lanterns may have disappeared from view, but the content of the messages I sent flying are still with me, in my mind and in my heart.