"The Shard is whispering again," Drizzt Do’Urden murmured, his lavender eyes scanning the jagged horizon. His twin scimitars, Icingdeath and Twinkle, were already drawn, humming with a restless energy. "Kessel’s madness hasn't died with him. It’s rooted in the mountain itself."
"They’re not here for the pass," Catti-brie shouted over the gale. "They’re here for us!" Dungeons and Dragons Dark Alliance
They weren't just fighting monsters; they were fighting a landscape that wanted them dead. As they crested the Kelvin’s Cairn pass, the ground groaned. It wasn’t an earthquake—it was a Verbeeg, a giant of twisted flesh and cruel intent, towering twenty feet tall. It swung a club made from a frozen pine tree, shattering the permafrost where Bruenor had stood a second before. "The Shard is whispering again," Drizzt Do’Urden murmured,
Bruenor Battlehammer spat into the snow, his axe notched from a dozen skirmishes with the local goblin tribes. "Let it whisper. I’ve a mind to give it a dwarven shout it won't forget." It’s rooted in the mountain itself
The Companions of the Hall backed into a defensive circle, steel clashing against shadow. In the frozen heart of the North, the alliance was the only thing keeping the darkness from swallowing the world whole.
"Scatter!" Drizzt commanded, a blur of grey and black against the white.