a promise in a mouth of savage teeth

random event the cold was so intense that she could see her own breath; it came out of her mouth like smoke Straight to the point is Wessex - something that the Deepfrost goddess appreciates immensely. "Mage glass, you say?" She chuckles, a pleasant sound that chimes off the walls. "There is mage glass within the Fangs. Deep, deep within. You may harvest it like any other ore - it is glass only in name, sweet one. Larger pieces may bring a higher reward, of course, in power and value." As for obstacles? The Eirachi grins. "Cannibals are not the only things to fear in the Tundra," she warns. "Those who do not feast upon the flesh of their own often choose other ways to get by." Vague and cryptic, as always. But then they move onto the goddess's request, and she wastes little time. "You spoke to me previously of other deities like myself," she says. "One of my kin suffers, sweet one. In the land which borders Halo, something is wrong. He suffers, and I would send assistance."