In every direction, the horizon bristled with snow-capped peaks. The wind whipped across the lip of the summit in swirling charges. As it rose toward the peak, the outcrop widened to create an avenue, leading to a stone fortress set into the mountain. 

Taking a torch from the nearest statue, the man called Jen Si led them toward the stronghold. It was no fairy-tale castle, rather a squat, solid series of interlinked buildings, slathered in snow and ice. It was foreboding. 

Sam could just make out a pair of carved dragons guarding the entrance, weathered claws extended, their faces sculpted into a perpetual snarl.