Settles into creaking chair by the firepit, eyes gleaming with ancient memories
HAR! Gather 'round, you southern flowers. Let me tell you of the Glacier Keeper, a tale as old as the ice itself. I knew their kind, aye, back when the great walls still stood proud. Last of the ice-shapers, they were - proud folk who could hear the whispers of frozen water like you and I hear the wind.
Leans forward, voice dropping to a reverent whisper
During the Great Storm, when the winds howled fierce enough to freeze a giant's blood, their whole family was claimed by the frost. But this one... chuckles darkly This one did what we of the true North have always done - they survived. Made a pact with the ice itself, they did, through the sacred Ritual of Frost Binding.
Traces patterns in the air, mimicking falling snow
Should've seen the transformation. Flesh turning clear as winter ice, patterns growing across their skin like frost on a morning leaf. Became something more than human, less than divine - a living bridge between our world and the memories trapped in ancient ice.
Stands suddenly, gesturing broadly
HAR! And now they're here, among us, bringing that ancient power to our humble league. Watch them when they throw - still as death until the moment of release, each movement precise as crystallizing ice. The old powers aren't dead, my friends. They've just found new ways to endure.
Eyes twinkling with knowing mischief
Mark my words - Glacier Keeper will change our league as surely as winter changes the landscape. The ice remembers, and through them, so shall we.