"Shilas, any thoughts?" Rinus suddenly asked, his head still downcast in thought. He spoke quietly but firmly, in that one tone that they all knew meant 'everybody shutup and listen'.
"The mountains are dangerous." Shilas responded without pause. "Very dangerous. We'll be always beset on by dangers." He sat up from his reclined position and eyed the soldiers around him with a peculiar look. "But I guess that's why we have you fellas. Big mighty soldier men'll get us though no pro-"
"Why are they dangerous?" Rinus asked sharply, cutting off the hunters smarmy remark. Shilas paused, unaccustomed to being put down like that, but continued nonetheless, this time in a more guarded manner.
"Well, they're mountains, so there's already all kinds of hostile ground to cover. Avalanches'r common, and of course the cold and wind will git to ya. There's wild beasts, too."
"Anything else?" The woodsman stiffened a little, seemingly reluctant to go on. Rinus finally looked up, fixing Shilas with a piercing stare, and repeated his queston.
"Anything else?"
"Well..." Shilas picked at a fleck of dried mud on his cheek. "There's also some, uh... some other things."
"Elaborate."
Shilas gave a dirty look, but continued. "Legends and myths, mostly, I guess. It's probably all a bunch of hoopla."
"It's not!" Morris exclaimed, leaping to his feet and interrupting once again. "It's not! Those mountains are cursed and evil! Hellish beasts and the walking dead are there, dragons and demons lurking in frozen haunts, waiting to eat alive any idiotic fools who are stupid enough to tread in those haunted hills!"
"Uh, yea, pretty much that." Shilas said, sinking back into his seat.
"I do not pretend to know much about god or spirit," Morris said in an earnest tone, drawing close to the captain, "but I do know that strange things go on in those mountains! People see things, hear things, people get eaten alive or disappear without a trace! Nobody goes in there, and do you know why? Because those mountains are
evil!"
"Sit down." Rinus said sternly, rising to his feet. Morris immediately backed off, still fuming but clearly chastised. The captain stared the fat little bartender in the eye until the man had fully seated himself. Then he turned on Iemben. "Doctor, how will we fare?"
Doctor Iemben started, not expecting attention to be thrust on him so suddenly, and stuttered slightly, then composed himself. "Um, not good, I should think." he said. "Not good at all. We'll be hard set to it even out here, much less scrambling around in those peaks." He rubbed his lower lip nervously.
"But," the doctor continued, eying Morris as if the man might attack him, "I don't see many other options. Heading south would probably result no better than heading through the mountains."
Rinus nodded solemnly, pacing about slowly in a circle. His jaw worked hard as he ground his teeth together, his eyes staring off into unknown space. The wind howled outside, the snow fell through the gap in the roof, and everyone was silent. A gray darkness crept over the scene, accompanied by a roll of distant thunder.
"A party approaches!" Seiben yelled as he burst through the doorway.
~~~
Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. Nothing but trees and rocks and snow. Up until a few minutes ago.
Krin liked the view of the mountains, for what it was worth. They were majestic and beautiful in their harshness, tokens of a lofty and wild world where men did not idly tread. In any other circumstance he might have enjoyed viewing them. As it was, however, they were imposing and threatening, looming over him like a wall of giants. He considered himself a strong man, in both mind and body, but these colossal fortresses of stone were far greater than any force or entity he had ever had the misfortune to come up against. He felt small, and he didn't like it.
Other than that, though, his time spent on guard duty had been uneventful and boring, splattered with a pinch of worry and doubt here and there. The mountains did not move, and their foothills did not waver. Nothing stirred; until a few minutes ago.
It was then that he had spotted a group of roughly thirty people high-tailing it through the rough terrain to the south, coming his way. He had alerted Seiben first, as protocol demanded, so that word would be sent to the others. It was his job, however, to actually go and meet these newcomers. Which was precisely what he was doing. Despite how happy the villagers might be to gain some new friends, nobody had any idea who these people were.
Krin's large black horse plowed through the snow at a hurried canter, descending to meet the oncoming party. As they drew closer he could begin to make out their details and their number; the four on horseback were soldiers, the other twenty-three were peasants. From where they had come he did not know, nor cared to guess at the moment. His first priority was to make sure that they were not a threat.
"Halt!" he yelled as soon as they were within hearing distance. As he drew close to them he slowed down, finally coming to a stop about twenty yards away from the newcomers. Both sides stared at each other for a few long moments; Krin with guarded curiosity, and the newcomers with visible relief. Krin's left hand was on his horse's reigns, ready to guide it to action; his right hand held his shield, ready to deflect any sudden blow. He doubted he would need to, however; these people looked like refugees.
"Who are you, and from where do you come?" Krin asked sternly.
