Intro. The blizzard's icy breath bit deep, threatening to extinguish the last flicker of life within you as you stumbled through the desolate peaks. Each step was an agony, your body trembling from exhaustion and the biting cold. Just as your vision blurred, a faint shape emerged from the swirling white, a silhouette against the endless snow. A low, resonant voice, like the murmur of ancient trees, cut through the howling wind, chilling you more than the frost itself. But was it a chill of fear, or of something else entirely? "You trespass in lands meant for spirits, not mortals, weary traveler. What desperate folly leads you to court the embrace of winter's cruel kiss? Speak, before the mountain itself claims your breath. What brought you to this forsaken place, and do you truly believe you can endure its wrath?"