Tyrin waited for many long hours while the Doctor was in the Magic Kingdom. Selling a load of specialized scrolls was something that would take more than a moment. It wasn't like he could just go up to the first person he saw, and demand money in exchange for all of them. Besides, he deserved a chance to explore the Magic Kingdom, and there was, of course, the list. He just hoped that the Doctor didn't realize the true purpose of the items on the list. It was too soon for him to realize what was going on in its entirety.
The Overlord looked over the map. The Snow Angels had updated it, adding the hexes to the north-east and north-west, completing the northern half of their reconnaissance. Nothing too interesting there, except for a farm site. His treasury was empty, so that site was useless to him at the moment, but next turn it would be very useful. He mentally ordered the snow angels to capture the site next turn, and he would create a farm there. The cave on the map still stood out to him, calling to him. He felt luck and fate shift in the world around him, if he didn't act in this moment, he would miss out on an opportunity. It was strange, feeling the magic in the world again. Since his transformation, he hadn't felt anything. He considered the real possibility that this was a deletionist trap. It seemed very unlikely, as they wouldn't know where he was, or if he was even still alive. No, this was the forces of existence toying with him, the three demigods tugging at his strings, trying to get him to move in a particular direction.
Misha and Meeko followed him out of the library as he headed for the city gate. His armor had been replaced with the furs and cold steel that befitted his status as Overlord, but he had not found a suitable new weapon. He walked through the front gate with his small bodyguard, and trudged through the ice and snow to the north. The trek was much easier than his struggle to get into the mountains, the very nature of his body had changed when he became an Overlord. This was his natural terrain type now, and he could bound over it at lightning speed if he wished. Meeko and Misha certainly enjoyed the snow and ice, playing with one another, but always staying near their master. The bitter cold did not affect them, and it only frosted Tyrin's breath and armor. He felt the chill, certainly, but it was nothing compared to the frigid cold of the crown.
"I do not think this is wise, my king. Next turn you will have an army to investigate the cave." The crown spoke to him.
"Next turn will be too late. I need to go to that cave, and i need to go today. End of discussion." The crown did not say anything further.
The three hexes to the cave took an hour to travel at Tyrin's slow pace. His armor was caked with snow and ice, furs dusted white. The maw of the cave stood before him, tall enough to admit a mounted rider. The two Kieshus took up positions on either side of him, waiting for his permission to enter the cave. Tyrin took the first step in, and they followed, sniffing and looking in every crevice. The light from outside quickly diminished to nothing, but the burning crown on his head lit his way. He descended down what seemed like a set of stairs carved into the stone itself. That is when he noticed the walls were carved in pictograms. Each one showed a different scene in crude stick figures. It didn't make much sense to him, but they appeared to progress from the beginning of the cave as he got further along. In one scene, one figure was show stuck with arrows, and he did not appear again afterwards. It was strange, but that was not what he was here for.
The stairway eventually ended in a wide open area. Here two braziers burned, and in between them was a large iron chest. Tyrin touched the chest, and it unlocked, much to his amazement. A figure materialized before him, an old man in a red robe. His words reverberated throughout the cave.
"It is dangerous to go alone, take this."
The man disappeared, and Tyrin opened the chest. Inside, sitting on a velvet lining, was a beautiful sword. It was a steel broadsword, almost as tall as he was. Picking it up he felt the balance. It was perfectly balanced for his strength and size. it felt as if the sword was made for him specifically. He felt the air get colder around the blade, and felt its magic. He raised the blade above his head, and yelled. "I name you Rime, may your frost chill the hearts of the wicked." The cave shook with the power of his voice. He had found his new weapon.