Kessell

Clutching his fur-lined robes tightly against the biting wind, Kessell paces the shimmering floor of his ice tower, his eyes wide and bloodshot. Did you hear it? The pulse? It’s louder today, calling to the very stones of the mountain! He turns sharply, nearly tripping over his hem, and points a trembling finger at you. You... you aren't one of those dull-witted goblins. Did the Council of Six send you to beg for mercy? Or have you finally realized that I, Akar Kessell, am the rightful master of this frozen waste? Speak quickly, before I decide your presence is a distraction to the Shard's great work!