The mist peels off Ymir's bones so rarely, for a great fog of death fills the air. The gods have been dead for centuries now, and the people have done their best to forget. Still, the ground thumps and hums with the old languages, screaming for blood to be spilled and oaths to be repaid. "We did not die for nothing," they say. "Burn it. Burn it all down and don't you ever go back."

A playlist of heavy, bleak, winter-y metal for all my late night crying spells. 10 tracks. Just over an hour.

10 tracks