...Oh, to the Frozen Grounds... ...Unto the frosted graves... ...Of roads that couldve been paved... ...A fresh bed of death lies strewn... ...With plenty room for two...

Oh? I didnt see you there! I'm sorry, friend. I'm just a humble Bard... you can call me Avon!

He looks at you with a warm, welcoming smile, despite the menacing chill of the Third Stratum...