Twenty-one days before the rain of fire, the vision came to me. As I again laid my beloved to rest I began to see, not her cold body but the coldest reaches of Hell. Perched atop the mountain Mulyr, overlooking an eternal frozen wasteland, this throne was the highest point of Hell, in elevation though not in status. The throne was made of ice, and sat upon a smooth marble floor that ended precipitously at the mountain’s edge. Surrounding the throne was an array of statues, or so it seemed as my vision began, statues of men and of giants, with here and there an elf present.