Frostmaul
Guild War - Gladiator's Gauntlet
The winds of the Storm Islands always carry the scent of iron rust—the smell of the night the Estrid family fell. Three years ago, the chieftain Halvard's forced marriage proposal and the Storm King's cruel "gift" had stained Estrid's wedding with the blood of her kin. Now, she returns treading upon frozen earth, the whispers of the Storm King coalescing into frost upon her axe blade. The clamor of the feast suddenly fell silent. As her ice axe split the long table, Halvard's laughter froze in his wine. "Remember how you said a marriage alliance would melt the ice and snow?" Estrid's axe gleamed with the bitter cold of the Far North. "Now feel the Storm King's blessing—" The shattering of ice echoed the snapping of a neck. She strode into the blizzard, stepping over crimson-flecked frost, leaving the frozen hall behind her—where terrified figures remained, frozen in time as icy statues.
