The elvish warlock's face is nearly impossible to see, nestled as it is inside the fluffy ruff of a rime-encrusted hood atop a long, heavy robe. Pelting sleet falls from sudden, conjured weather. Frost gathers on the warlock's shoulders, frost runs along the robe's hem, as if a long relationship with the cold has formed the muffled incantation, the sleeves that crinkle as they rise, the ripple of fingers moving under thick mittens. From those hands, icy tentacles slither out through the storm.
~ Played by Colby from d4: D&D Deep Dive
