We stopped just short of the clouds yesterday. They darkened into a thunderstorm and drove us to seek shelter. Thankfully our scout Dunfallon knew a perfect place for us to wait out the storm. A hollow space where a stone should have been, but was not.
As the storm grew in intensity so did my sense that an evil magic was at play.
It turned into a fitful night. Dunfallon was hard pressed to keep his goat calm. Rumble himself was constantly pacing.
We ventured forth the next morning to begin our climb again, we discovered that it was not morning, but night had rolled in again.
We had lost a day.