After attempting to create a road-kill situation we accidentally found our way to an abandoned mill. From the outside it smelled of excrement and defeat. At this point we should have thought twice, but having only time to think once before beginning the looting we were stupid enough to enter. The ice and cold had us on the back foot. That is code-speak for 'on the break and shitting ourselves'. Fortunately, we had some logs and kindling that we had “appropriated” from a vendor in the previous village. The vendor, a tall, wide chap some 40 metres high and approximately 60 years old according to his rings, could barely stand up to our hefty ax for half an hour. We started the fire with said kindling and logs with immediate effect and the Bookkeeper opened a book on the first member to run aw