Publisher's blurb: Snow coats the main thoroughfare of this outpost, though it has been churned by the wheels of wagons and many feet into a muddy slush. What once was a crumbling temple has become a stronghold. The main room of worship has been turned into a mess hall, with tables laden with drinks, weapons, maps, paperwork, books and food waiting before a statue of a robed figure holding an empty bowl. Some rooms still contain stone benches covered with urns of the dead, while others have been cleared to fit desks or beds. Yet more have become cells, while a couple of caves have been turned into storage for food and weapons, or been strung up with hammocks over coarse hay. The wind whistles forlornly through this place, bringing with it cold flakes of snow, or heavy sleet.