The shape-shifters surrounded us, their grotesque forms flickering and distorting like a nightmarish carnival show. The air was thick with tension, and I could feel the chilling wind biting through my clothes.
Lira, Evie, Izzy, Seraphine, Eamon, and I stood back to back, weapons drawn and ready for a fight.
"Stay back!" I shouted, brandishing my Mythic Killing Dagger, the Sheath of the War King enhancing its speed of unsheathing with a swift flourish making me feel much better that my blade was sharpened appropriately. "Though you all may think we'd be deceived, I was advised from someone not to trust anyone."
The Frostborn shape-shifters laughed, their laughter sounding like a discordant symphony of madness. "Deception, traveler? We are masters of it," one of them hissed, its form twisting into a grotesque amalgamation of limbs and eyes.
