We arrived in the middle of a nightmare.
The sky was a bruised purple, and the air was thick with the smell of wet stone. We were standing on the "Crown of Norkiya," but the crown was shattered. Massive slabs of rock, the size of entire cities, were floating in the air, held up by nothing but jagged arcs of blue frost.
In the center of the devastation stood Frostfang.
She was in her humanoid form, her small frame looking impossibly fragile against the collapsing mountain. Her hands were pressed against the Great Pillar—the mountain that held the range together. Her skin was turning the same translucent blue as the ice she commanded, and blood—bright, frozen crimson—leaked from her nose.
"Hold... together..." she hissed through gritted teeth. "Terragon... I know you're in there... I won't let them... bury you..."
