Inarius stepped through the swirling portal and found himself engulfed by a biting cold that gnawed at his skin and soul alike. The air was heavy with frost, and the sky above was a bleak expanse of gray, with no sign of the sun to provide warmth or hope. Snow and ice stretched endlessly in every direction, an unforgiving wasteland devoid of life.
With a flick of his hand, purple flames crackled to life around him, forming a protective barrier that melted the snow at his feet and kept the chill at bay. The dark energy radiating from him illuminated the stark, barren landscape, casting long shadows on the crystalline ground.
It wasn't long before the Dark One's voice pierced the silence.
"Welcome to the world of ice and death, Inarius," the voice echoed, seeming to come from the very wind itself. "Here, the weak perish, and only those with strength beyond reckoning endure. Your fourth trial begins now."
Inarius turned his gaze to the horizon, his expression impassive. "What's the task?" he asked, his voice carrying a tinge of impatience.
"In the frozen wastes to the north lies the Icecrown Citadel—a fortress of frost and shadow. At its gates stands a guardian, a creature of immense power and relentless fury. Your task is to slay it and prove your strength once more," the Dark One explained.
"And the fifth trial?" Inarius pressed.
"You will know when the time comes," the Dark One replied, his tone almost playful. "For now, focus on the task at hand."
With that, the presence withdrew, leaving Inarius alone once more in the desolate tundra.
Inarius looked around, his flaming sword in hand, the purple flames licking at the cold air. He reached for the Palantír, drawing it from the dimensional pocket within the Belt of Ecthelion. The orb shimmered as he held it, the translucent surface glowing faintly in the twilight.
Concentrating, Inarius willed the Palantír to reveal the location of the Icecrown Citadel. The orb responded instantly, showing a vision of a colossal fortress rising from a jagged cliff of ice and rock. Spires of frost jutted into the sky, their crystalline surfaces glinting with an eerie blue light. At the base of the citadel, massive gates stood sealed, radiating an aura of raw power.
The image shifted, zooming outward to reveal a path through the frozen wilderness—a journey that would take him north, across treacherous terrain and perilous conditions.
"So, that's the place," Inarius muttered, placing the Palantír back into the belt. "Guess I'd better get moving."
As Inarius began his trek, the frozen landscape seemed to grow harsher with every step. The snowstorm intensified, howling winds threatening to smother his flames. Ice crunched beneath his boots as he moved steadily forward, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon.
The environment was unrelenting, but so was Inarius. He drew strength from his sin-infused powers, the flames around him burning brighter with each surge of determination.
Hours passed, though it was impossible to tell how many. Time felt meaningless in a world where the sun never seemed to rise. The endless expanse of snow was broken only by jagged ice formations and the occasional frozen corpse, their features twisted in expressions of agony.
"Lovely place," Inarius muttered sarcastically, his breath visible in the frigid air.
After what felt like an eternity, the terrain began to change. The snow grew deeper, and the icy winds carried an unnatural chill that even Inarius's flames struggled to repel. He noticed the faint glow of blue light in the distance—the unmistakable sign of the Icecrown Citadel.
As he approached, the landscape became more treacherous. The ground was uneven, and jagged cliffs loomed on either side. Frost-covered bones littered the area, a grim reminder of those who had dared to venture too close to the citadel.
Then, without warning, the ground beneath him trembled. A low, guttural growl echoed through the air, sending a shiver down his spine.
"Well, that can't be good," Inarius muttered, gripping his flaming sword tightly.
The growl grew louder, and the snow before him erupted in a blinding explosion of ice and frost. From the depths emerged a massive, hulking figure—a monstrous amalgamation of ice and shadow, its glowing blue eyes fixed on him with unrelenting malice.
The guardian of the Icecrown Citadel had arrived.
The beast towered over Inarius, its jagged form radiating an aura of cold so intense that the flames around him flickered and dimmed. It raised a massive arm, tipped with claws of pure ice, and let out a deafening roar that shook the very ground.
Inarius smirked, his eyes narrowing. "Guess you're the welcoming party. Let's see what you've got."
With that, he charged forward, his purple flames blazing brighter than ever, ready to face the guardian head-on.