The Mountain School, while not very imaginatively named, was one of the most prestigious academies for young adults in all the world. Situated in a tall mountain range right where the borders of no less than five nations met, the school hosted countless students of all races and nationalities. While studies could range from tactics to engineering to law, the primary focus of the institution was the instruction of magic.
Shana recalled all of this as she stared up at the imposing structure that was the main school building. The building was set atop Mont Crackclaw, nearly fifteen hundred feet above sea level. It was four stories tall and depressingly utilitarian, little more than a grey block carved from the same grey stone that made up all the grey mountains in this grey mountain range. Light poured from plentiful windows, and strange and wonderful sounds, smells, and colors could be seen pouring through some of them. On two other nearby mountain tops, connected to the main structure only by some rope bridges, were the male and female dormitories, similarly boring to look upon from the outside.
"It's so big," Shana whispered to herself. The eighteen year old came from the rural land of Celtiber, where everything was constructed from wood and nothing eclipsed twenty feet in height. "How did they even make all of this?"