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[Otherling]

On this day of winter, the Angakut went to walk upon the frozen coast, and there they found a spirit. A great spirit, now bereft of a home. And the Angakut knew both joy and sorrow. Joy, for this spirit no longer stood against the lord of ice and bones. Sorrow, for their cousins of lost Atlantis had followed this spirit, and the Angakut were now the last of their kind.

A mighty sacrifice was prepared to propitiate this fallen spirit. A hundred seals were slain, their blood and entrails burned upon altars of stone, that the smoke might guide the spirit to its final rest. A hundred skulls were set upon the coast, that the ice would bind them together into a tomb for this great spirit. The first barrow was raised upon the coast of ice and bone, and the name inscribed thereon was Dwr Serol.