Prologue : The Frostspire Looms

The boughs above hang heavy with snow. The otherwise blinding whiteness of winter's bounty is dulled to a soft gray by the blanket of fog clinging to the valley. Even with your furs bundled tight about you, the dampness of the air and the ice thrown to your face by the rushing winds chills to your core. Cresting ominously above the treetops looms the Frostspire, the most infamous mountain in the frozen lands of Frostvale. You are destined to be here and your journey takes you over its peaks; mercilessly fraught with wild brutality.

ONE.
Movement I : 00:00 : The Way Upward and a Standing Stone

What little light seeps through the dense fog, causes the snow crunching beneath your feet to have a muted pearlescent sheen. The wind bites and rushes around you and as you walk through the knee high drifts, the feeling of solitude becomes overwhelming. Reflecting on your past, your guilt, you know why you have come here. The trees begin to thin and a carved standing stone, placed well before your time, marks the head of the mountain pass. While inspecting the ancient script chiseled into the stone, you ponder the lives of those that have braved this path before you. Placing a hand into your coat, you grasp your family’s amulet. It feels warm in your hand and it comforts you. You withdraw your hand, refasten your coat, and survey the path ahead. Switchbacks extend upward, disappearing within the fog.

Movement II : 01:37 : Traversing the Cliffs

The white cliffs stand in contrast with the dark limestone of the mountain. Snowshoes, pick, and line allow you to move up the pass without insurmountable hindrance, but you are ever aware of your proximity to the nothingness that lies just over any ledge. Continuing to climb upward, your pick digs deep into the icy precipice, giving you the purchase to pull yourself to the next snow covered landing. Glancing downward into the whirling white haze, you can still make out shadows of trees, now mere dabs of darkness. You have already come so far, but your journey is far from over. The wind whistles through the rocky overhangs and you swear you can hear the clattering of bells in the air.

Movement III : 07:00 : Snow Sprites

While pausing for a moment to catch your breath, a streak of movement and light hurtles through your periphery. Within a whirlwind of snow, you see small figures darting in and out of the tempest, tumbling, and spiraling on wisps of frost. Ethereal and translucent, the figures dance around your head, landing on your shoulders, then launching off again into the void. Unintelligible whispers hang in your ear and you are unsure if you are truly hearing them or if they are merely tricks of the mind. Are these snow sprites? Winter’s spirits? Or have you been made to believe in something that does not exist. Reaching out your hand toward the apparitions, one lands without the slightest weight upon your finger. Its eyes are fully black and as deep as obsidian. It shakes its head, displacing snowflakes into the air. With the hint of a smile, the creature jumps into the wind and vanishes. Looking around, you are again alone with the wind and the cold. You continue to climb.

Movement IV : 09:34 : A Cavern of Ice

Pulling yourself onto a snowy ledge, the mouth of a cave stands open before you. Brushing the snow from your furs, you step into the pale blue halls of ice. Massive icicles hang from the vaulting ceiling. The soft dripping of water into shuddering pools underscores the receding drone of the elements as you walk deeper into the cave. You find a strange beauty in the winding paths. Passing through the cave your reflection follows you, traversing and distorting on the walls and columns of ice. Away from the perils outside, you take a moment of respite, laying your bedroll on the cold floor. This is no place for a fire, so you eat meager rations of dried fish and hard brown bread. Muscles aching from the ascent, you lay your head down, close your eyes, and drift into a dreamless sleep.

Movement V : 12:20 : Fleeting Warmth

Waking, you are again surrounded by the soft blue ice of the cavern. You gather your belongings into your pack, pull from your waterskin and continue down the frozen path. After some time you reach an opening leading back into the elements. You exit the cave and find yourself in the space between two towering peaks. The blanket of gray stretching from footing to sky is disorienting and the wind rushing through the mountain gap causes you to stagger. Abruptly, the wind stops, the snow settles, and a brief glimpse of the sun appears through a break in the clouds and fog. The vibrant blue behind the gray veil makes you squint and you close your eyes as warmth touches your cheeks. Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the sun is gone, the wind returns, and you stand alone amidst the fury of the Frostspire.

TWO.
Movement VI : 00:00 : Atop the Peak

The cliffs of the mountain are perilous. One false step would see you plummeting into the swirling, nebulous mist below. The snow laden pass has brought you to the peak of a lesser spire. The peak, topped with frost, stabs toward the heavens as clouds pass around its apex. You have reached as high as you need travel. You know that past this point, the path leads only down, but through a labyrinth of caverns and jagged cliffs. You begin to descend. The trek downward from the peak has proved to be a difficult task. The backside of the mountain, produced of sheer rock and ice, offers no sure hold for foot or hand. While walking through a narrow path, carved by melting snow over the ages, you hear a crack and a groan as the footing beneath you gives way. Your stomach lurches as you fall through the snow and plunge into darkness

Movement VII : 05:26 : A Vision of What May Be

Opening your eyes, you are surrounded by a green smoke, but there is no smell of spent tinder. It is unclear whether you stand upon the ground or if you are suspended by some means in the air. Out of the sickly smoke faces begin to take shape. The likeness of those you have loved and of those you have scorned undulate within the cloud, dissipate, then again materialize. Emotions well up within you, drying your throat, and causing an ache in your chest. Sorrow, for those you have lost and guilt, for what you could have done differently. As grief overtakes you, so does the acrid smoke. It enters your nose and mouth, stealing your breath. You gasp for air, clutching at your throat. Panic nearly consumes you, but a sense of clarity begins to glow in your mind. You have come here for a purpose and you will not be deterred. As you exhale, the green smoke pours out of your lungs and disappears. Your vision clears. You breathe deep. And you wake from a trance. You find yourself lying in a shallow pile of snow, from where you fell. The ground is cold and the space is lit by flickering green flames set in braziers throughout the room. Before you is the one you seek, sat upon a carved throne of black stone. A tarnished crown hung crooked on its head. The Lich of Frostspire. You clamor to your feet and unsheathe your sword. The words of your oath ring clear in your head.

Movement VIII : 08:50 : The Lich of Frostspire

Torn fabric and dried flesh, long past rotted, hang from the jowls of the lich. The sunken holes where eyes once were now leak a viscous black ichor, dripping down the frame of its face and coloring its teeth. Raising a thin, notched obsidian sword, it lets loose a screeching wail and begins to glide toward you. Its tattered robes billow behind its flight, sword outstretched. You are able to parry away its lunging blade and spin out of reach of a second slash. Using your momentum you strike out at the hovering creature, burying the edge deep into its back. It lets out a wail of pain, but quickly turns, retching the sword from your hands and grasping you by the throat with unyielding skeletal hands. Bringing you closer, you can smell its rotting tongue lapping at the air. Breath and life are leaving you as the grip around your throat tightens. Your vision blurs and you begin to lose hope, but suddenly a blinding light emits from your chest. Your family’s amulet shines silvery and bright, illuminating the entire cavern. The lich recoils, loosing its grasp and clutching at its eyes. It begins to shake and what little flesh it still has begins to fall away. Stumbling, you retrieve your fallen sword. You clutch the weapon, recite your oath, and bring the blade down onto the neck of the shivering lich.

Movement IX : 11:54 : A Love Avenged

Exiting into the sun, you feel warmth against your squinting eyes. The sky is a vibrant azure blue, with only the sparsest of clouds. The sun is beginning its descent into evening and shadows are stretching longer across the ground. The smell of tree resin is sharp in the air from branches broken under the weight of snow, now melting. A bright call pierces the silence as a winter sparrow sings on a branch just overhead. Its song welcomes you out from the darkness of the Frostspire and fills your heart. With your oath fulfilled you clamber the rest of the way down the snow laden pass, the frozen peaks of the mountain now at your back. You venture forth into the lands beyond.