Outside Thorn Town at the Cage Mountain.
"A, atishoo — "
Good sneezed as he entered the hangar against rushes of snow and gusts of wind. He placed the heavy ammunition case beside the plane and slumped onto it. "I hate winter. It reminds me of those old days when we were refugees."
"Nobody likes the Months of Demons, but I have to say that true winter hasn't come yet," Finkin said while twitching his lips as he opened his wooden case. "You should feel happy that we aren't far from the sea. The Months of Demons aren't that bad on the coast. Before His Majesty became the lord of the Western Region, everyone feared that they would not survive the night. Their houses might collapse at night, and they would then be buried in snow if they stayed in. They could not even run for life."
"Well, are the Months of Demons in Neverwinter really that terrible?"
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