crossing the Misty Mountains

The world is dark. Shadows creep, blacker than the night. The light of dim stars is the only thing that illuminates the ice, and it gleams like cruel fangs. Jagged splinters pierce the landscape of snow and ice as far as one can see in the deep gloom. Wide chasms gape like hungry mouths, ready to catch an unwary traveler, and in the distance echo mournful howls and eerie cries of the monsters that roam this wasteland.