A frozen graveyard of ships and deep-sea horrors, retextured
The Ship Graveyard, where the ice is thin and the hunger runs deep.
Blue scales. Bright eyes. Dark intent.
Even outlaws need a roof when the north howls.
The ice is her drum. Your bones are her rhythm.
Ships go in. Monsters feed. Nothing comes out.
The fall was deep. The damnation was deeper.
A friend in the freeze. A ferry through the seas.
The ice holds their flesh. The abyss holds their souls.
Four blocks tall. Ten thousand teeth.
She was Cornelia once. Now she is the current.