Level 15 - Grand Lord King Master of Wordsmithy
Felim collapsed into the snow, exhausted. It felt like it would be the last fall this time, his limbs stiffening and flesh numb. The adventurer had heard of natives that thrived out here, men who slew bears and made coats of seal fur. But who could build anything out here...?
Just as he felt light start to fade, Felim cast his gaze up to see the sky one last time. He was startled - or would have been, if his body had the energy - to see a furred hood and a leathery face with a toothless grin. 'Ho there, brother!' it spoke. 'You came to just the right place.'
A bloodthirsty band of brutal barbarian brigands, baneful and bleak in bearing. Beware!
"Ve'laan rust!" - Sailor slang, meaning "nonsense"
A metal with unique properties, ve'laan is prized by seafaring folk and admired by jewelers.