"What can it do?"
*The man gives a frightened, absurd laugh at the question.*
"The skies will grow dark, the winds will howl. Snow and rain, fire and ice, will all fall from the sky in an unholy union. Whirling columns of fire, snow, earth and water rise up, lifting to the heavens those that offend it. A storm that can walk on earth in the guise of a human, before climbing to the skies to unleash its terrible fury. I have never seen it... neither have any of the living elders... the last time the hellstorm came was centuries ago... and it took entire cities with it."
"Now, traders have found these in the mountains, near the foothills of the Balarac and Icefang Mountains."
*He points to the icicle hanging from the chain around his neck.*
"Ice that is not magical, yet never melts. One of the things that falls from the hellstorm's fury. This is no 'he' or 'she,' it is no creature one can strike with a sword... it is a storm, nature's fury with what we do to her... how the farmers here plant crops in soil the gods did not intend for growing, how loggers drive off the elves of the virgin forests. The god of frost himself is angry at us, if he sends this spawn onto our world."