This is… a most interesting situation we have found ourselves in.  What the Mountain does can be described only as a boon, and almost certainly of divine origin, yet I am perturbed by the zeal with which so many have taken to worshipping the mountain itself.  Of course, as far as I know, it may very well be warranted.  So I have made a decision: I, Goreu, god-chosen leader of the surviving Cewri shall make a pilgrimage.  On my own strength, I shall ascend the mountain, Y Mynydd Niwlog, and find what lies at the summit.  If it be the will of the gods that we have this boon, we must know who deserves our praise.  Could it be the Sky-Lord Amaethon, rewarding us for persevering in our repentance?  Or Pwyll, the Frozen-Lord, who rules over the dead in his Ice Palace, giving us succor from the frozen peaks for surviving so long?  Perhaps it is some other god, long forgotten by our people.  It may even be one native to this new land.  I must know for sure.

	With the results of our attempts at fishing still inconclusive, we must take other ventures to prepare for winter.  The island is populated, it would seem, by numerous sheep.  One of the Elders tells us that wool was renowned for its warmth in the Drowned Kingdom.  Thus, while I am on my pilgrimage, a group of us shall begin taming the sheep.  We shall take them out to graze, protect them, and we shall shear them.  Furthermore, in my absence, I have rested shared authority over the Cewri in the Elders.

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E/F) Ascend The Misty Mountain/Domesticate Sheep
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