We've just crossed the border

After six hours in the customs hut, we're finally in Svaltwoond1, a hard land of glaciers and concrete bunker towns inside the radius of the Arctic circle, and my, is it cold.

Fusel's still with me as my official liaison - Albonia and Svaltwoond are politically related (one's the client sate of the other, but I don't know which) - and we've picked up a Svalti guide too: a severe woman named Bêbedos Dedos (Fusel calls her Baby, and it winds her up). She's short, with short white blonde hair and a short temper. She's also quite good looking in a terse way. Her accent is as thick as two short planks - her words come out like she's spitting pips into a wind tunnel. I like her. Fusel doesn't.

1not its real name

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