Chapter Five
The Symarion Mountains were once home to the legendary Ice Warriors, a nomadic tribe of humans. Their ice-capped peaks maintaining a heavy blanket of snow throughout the year, thus its frigid temperatures. Legend revealed that the mountain had once erupted, spewing molten fire from its depths, wiping out the human tribes. However, a few remained, scattered across the lands.
Deep in the depths of a cave, high in the mountains, Mnuvae stood waist deep in a steaming spring, the heat of the water reddening her skin. Sweat beaded on her brow and dripped between her breasts as steam sporadically burst forth from volcanic fissures. Volcanic cones oozed molten magma—casting an orange glow over the cavern, the stench of sulphur heavy in the air. She wondered if this is what the dwarven cities smelled like, deep beneath the surface of the earth.
