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The winter swallowed the men who came before and will swallow those who come after. Join us for a pint in the tavern before you go out there again. Before you freeze to death or get covered by a snow drift. I’m sure you aim for the Low Climes, the warmth of an actual summer, a land where flowers grow. It’s a lie, I’m sure. My cousin tried to reach there and we haven’t seen or heard of him since.

Vitr will consume the mountain in ice one day, taking revenge for some slight we had nothing to do with. Until then, drink up and do your best to survive. This is a harsh mountain, and there’s no two ways about it.

Hear the Song of Hetja Melna now.