The Shattered Peaks were like silent sentinels and their jagged spires were shrouded in a dense fog that clung to the air like a living thing.
Kelvin led the Tide's Crest through a narrow gorge, his boots slipped on slick shale, each step was a battle against the uneven terrain.
Kelvin gripped his spare tightly in his hand which was pulsed with fire runes, their faint glow cutting through the mist's oppressive gray.
The cloaked figure's challenge and Zack's cryptic taunts gnawed at him, sowing seeds of doubt that twisted like thorns in his chest.
Xerion, the End-Tyrant, slithered beside him, his massive serpentine form a cascade of crimson and gold scales that shimmered faintly in the fog.
The ancient beast, a Level 8 Legendary whose legend traced back to the Great Rift War, moved with a predatory grace, his twenty-foot length weaving effortlessly over the rocky path.
