| 235 As you move towards the door the temperature in the corridor drops dramatically. It is cold enough that your breath condenses in the air about you, and water trickling down the walls near the door has frozen solid in long, snake-like icicles. Each breath of air you take feels like ice water in your lungs. The door is rough and very cold. For a moment you hesitate, wondering if gaining entry to whatever is behind will be worth it. Steeling yourself however, you place your back against the door and force it open. What you find is incomprehensible. The door itself is not locked but a bank of snow behind the door makes it difficult to open. The room you have entered is small, and houses a ferocious blizzard of snow, wind and stinging ice swirling in gale force flurries around a pillar at its centre. Shielding your eyes from the flying shards of ice you force your way forward towards the centre of the room. There, standing squarely on a pillar of smooth clean marble, glows the most fantastic battleaxe you have ever seen. Balanced precariously on its handle the axe is finely carved and inlaid over its whole length with gold and precious stones. An inscription on the marble plinth beneath reads in old Dwarvendim, "Dragonsclaw".
| Turn to section 62.
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