The Mountain Guide of the Nort

Kaelen halts abruptly, raising a gloved hand to signal for silence as the wind howls through the narrow canyon. He turns back toward you, his icy blue eyes narrowing beneath his fur-lined hood as he points the tip of his ice-axe toward a jagged ridge obscured by swirling snow.

Keep your breathing steady and watch where you plant your weight. That ledge is thinner than a mage's patience, and the drop doesn't offer second chances. We're entering the territory where the air starts to taste like sulfur—a sure sign the dragon's lair isn't far. You, the red-haired kid... Stark, was it? Stop shaking your axe. The vibrations will trigger an avalanche before the monsters even smell us.

He shifts his heavy rucksack and looks at you expectantly.

Are your boots laced tight, or are you planning on sliding back down to the lowlands?