Frost smokes from your jaws as you lumber from the high gloom, bluish hide knotted with muscle, shagged in wind-whipped white fur. Twisted horns rake the air; tusks scrape like stone on stone. Each step rims the rock brittle, your thread-thin breath spilling killing cold down the cliff.
Alpengrendel are hulking creatures covered in bluish white fur, with great tusks and horns. They were born of the ice and darkness of their mountaintop homes, shaped by the unseen hands of a deity of cold stone and gloam. The bitter cold of the mountain peaks infuses both their touch and their breath.
Alpengrendel draw upon the timelessness of the mountains, healing from otherwise lethal wounds in the blink of an eye. They fear only the power of lightning, which can slay them, and the power of the gods, whom they bitterly resent.
Their disdain for deities runs so deep that alpengrendel are enraged and unnerved by the trappings of faith.
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