but this hunger, it isn't you

random event It is subtle, but as their conversation continues Wessex might notice how the temperature has dropped, how the Sea of Glass is beginning to become obscured by fast falling snow and sharp winds. ”It exists,” the Eirachi confirms, her icy form apparently untouched by the bitter breeze. ”Passable though? Maybe, for some who are incredibly lucky. For almost all who set foot in that place, however, only death awaits. Swift and instant. No chance even to scream.” A pleasant place, by all accounts. And for the shrine? ”A cold place, the bones of one who died upon the Tundra, and stones from The Fangs. That would be a good start.”