FROSTMERE.
Far to the north, beyond the kingdoms of men and their particular concerns, the frozen lands of Frostmere slept beneath snow that had fallen for centuries without melting, that would fall for centuries more without end.
The wind moved through the mountains with the particular voice of places where human habitation had never established itself, carrying ice in currents that would flay exposed skin to the bone.
High upon one of the most remote peaks, where the air thinned to something that would suffocate unacclimated lungs, where the sun's light came pale and insufficient even at noon, stood an ancient cavern. Its mouth opened toward the east, and within that mouth the darkness was complete, absolute, the particular black of spaces where light had never penetrated.
