Permafrost
Permafrost was never a place of comfort. Beneath Everfrost's howling winds, the tunnels of ice and stone held goblin tribes, frozen beasts, and the terrible presence of Lady Vox herself. For ages, adventurers entered those halls expecting danger, but also certainty. The goblins were cruel, the ice was merciless, and the dragon's shadow was eternal. Then the cold began to change.
It started as a deeper frost along the cavern walls, blue-white veins pulsing beneath the ice like blood beneath skin. The goblins of Permafrost grew bolder and stronger, their crude weapons rimed with unnatural chill. Wolves and spiders stalked with new hunger. Even the lowest servants of the frozen halls seemed touched by some ancient power rising from the heart of the mountain. The ice no longer merely preserved. It empowered.