The Caern Mountain Ogre

[Archaon]

There was a light snow falling as the merchant’s sloop butted up against the pier. The docks were little more than a few semi-permanent buildings, a jetty and a road leading inland. Rûn stood at the railing, looking past the shore to the lone mountain that dominated an empty landscape. There were certainly bigger mountains, but it was imposing in its solitude, its split peak seeming to grasp at the slate grey sky. He was dressed for the winter, with a fur lined cloak and thick leather gloves and boots. With sword and shield strapped to the pack on his shoulders, he looked like some wild barbarian prince, and his long blonde hair and blue eyes only enhanced the image.

It was cold, and the crew went about their work quietly. The only sounds were the creaking of the ship, the ever present surging of the sea beneath them, and the high cry of a gull. The ship’s mate was standing nearby, and Rûn asked, “Why not build the village by the water? They wouldn’t have to cart all their goods back and forth.”

The ship’s mate glanced at him, then looked out the thin line of smoke rising from the base of the mountain. “That’d be the smart thing to do. But the villagers here think that mountain is sacred. They’ve got a shrine or a temple or some such way up near the peak.”

Rûn smiled thoughtfully. “Sacred, eh?”

“Found yourself a destination, then?”

He laughed. “No, I don’t think so. Never a destination.” He grinned. “I go where the wind blows.” The sailor scoffed, and Rûn ignored him. Still, he thought. There’s something about this place. A sense of anticipation, maybe. He had been on the ship for over a month, and found that sea travel suited him. The endless water teeming with life, the freedom of it all, the mystery of never knowing what was ahead of you. Well, he conceded some people knew. But he had never bothered looking at the maps himself.

Though comfortable, the voyage had been sadly uneventful. The wildness of the mountain, the barren coast, and the dark woods in the distance seemed to sing to him. He decided to call it destiny.

Turning, he held out his hand. “I think I will be getting off here. It’s been a pleasure traveling with your crew.”

The old sailor grunted and took his hand. All he said was “weren’t no worse passenger than most, an’ better than some.” Rûn just smiled, springing down the gangplank and onto the pier. As soon as he reached solid ground the earth seemed to swayed beneath him, and he laughed. It felt good to be on land again. Rûn turned a moment, watching the ship and the waters that bore it, and took in a deep breath of sea air.

The snowfall began to grow heavier as he set off toward the mountain, and the village nestled at its base.

[Melancor]

Inarak twirled in the heavy winds, making loops of her body while swinging to and fro against the snowfall "The snow feels good, Sylvan. Will we stay for long?" She and her sisters had been flying well above him for a while but he could hear them perfectly; the bond they held was beyond mental.

"I doubt it. The horse is famished and unlike you this snow isn't making him any good." Sylvan though to himself, knowing they would hear him. Two silver eyes peered from underneath the long heavy cloak that shed his body. A set of gloved hands held the rope firmly, and another of strong legs secured him to the saddle. He wore much gear underneath, But a metal bow and a quiver where the only visible.

Sylvan had rented this horse for more money than it would normally cost to buy it. This way its owners could guarantee the safe arrival of their beast. Ninety percent of the money would be refunded to him in the next town where he was to return it, the other ten would be kept as the rent. It was a dangerous busyness if he wasn't careful with the animal, and he was never, he always managed to come close to killing them.

"It would be more convenient if you get rid of that beast and walk." Said a slightly more serious voice from above.

He grinned "As if."

Sylvan Pulled the robe back, indicating the horse and bringing it to a halt. They stood there in between two snow-covered paths. They both seemed identical, with nothing out of place other than a branch or two. A weathered stick stood where the road broke, he understood that the sing that should solve his dilemma was no longer there.

"Which one should I take? The one with the bush, or the one with the funny looking tree at the end?" Sylvan rubbed his chin, half asking, half meditating.

"Beats me." Said the second voice.

he lifted his chin slightly and eyed both roads a second time. "Caern should we around here, I want to turn this guy in already. He'll leave me pretty close to the coast. That I can walk."

"I can see Mount Caern west from here. I don't think I've heard of a town called Caern, although there is smoke coming from the foot of the mountain." Said a third voice, of them the most natural.

Sylvan blinked in rapid succession before gently pulling the horse toward the path to the left, the one with the funny-looking tree. "A chimney."

With their destination so close by the sisters began their descend. Their bodies where long, and slim just as that or a viper. Their scales, however, where almost as silver as their master's eyes, wide-headed, with two sets of three claws under them. For sea demigoddesses these where truly degrading shapes, but it was only part of the suffering they had to endure by loosing their status. But with suffering and all, they endured it and always tried to make the most of it.

[Raimeiken]

Winter continued its lonely song. Snowflakes dancing to the soundless melodies of the wind's gentle orchestra. Idle. Yet caressing.

"Are you sufficiently insulated, Ojousama?"

A voice broke the silent tunes of Winter. A sound of crunching snow echoed under trees deviod of its dress.

"Daijoubu, Sets-chan. You don't need to be worried about me."

A giggle. The muted echoes of crunching snow hastened, paused, and resumed its steady tune. The Winter Song of Snow momentarily interrupted.

"Do the boots fit well, Ojousama? You mustn't let any snow into them or else you may have frostbite."

A stern voice raised concern, the owner of the steady winter beat.

"Oh, you worry too much, Sets-chan. Cheer up!"

Amidst the bleak landscape of white, a figure clad in unremarkable brown strode steadily through rows of undressed trees. Before her, a fiery presence danced through the snow as if a living tongue of fire. Tossing her hair into the gentle winter breeze, the one called "Ojousama" smiled as she turned to meet eyes with her follower.

"Ojousama... Master Konoka, you mustn't tire yourself before we reach the next town. We do not have enough supplies to stop in this area and our clothes are insufficient in passing through the night. If anything, we are still unsure if we would be able to afford lodging with what little we have left."

"Sets-chan" stated plainly with a hint of desperation in her eyes. A large bundle of traveling gears rose beyond her height and pushed her deeper into the snow as she stopped to address her master. Taking a few measured steps, she withdrew her boots from the snowy pit and sought shelter on harder ground, only to move forward at a measured pace every now and then.

Nanakaze Setsuna had never felt so tired from traveling with her Master, even though she had believed what they had gone through was enough to harden her spirit. The travel up north was not as simple a task she had estimated from the time they had spent in Northern Akashima. The winter there was much milder than the route they now were traveling on, saved for a few obstacles purposely laid out by the mischievious Akashiman God of Illusion. But the swordsmaiden sought to persevere through the hardship, considering it a part of her extended training of her mind.

Her master and herself had arrived in the New World many months ago, only to find that the world was not a wonderful place they both had anticipated. But through the hardship, the two foreigners survived - and even conquered a few - hardships of a world far removed from the comforts of their society. Fujiwara Konoka had grown to appreciate the small wonders life brought to them, no matter how mundane. Setsuna learned that danger should never be underestimated.

"Ojousama... We really must find a place to rest. If we do not find a town by nightfall..."

Setsuna glanced at the horizon from under her thick brown hood, a borrowed gear from the monastery the pair had found on the way. A grey line rose into the sky, drawing her attention away from the path ahead.

"AH- look! A smoke! I think that's a chimney, Sets-chan! Let's go!" Her master was the quicker one to point out, drawing her hood back in delight. A pair of triangular ears waved around in excitement as she hurriedly ran forward towards the town at the edge of the woods.

"Ojousama! Be careful-! Please wait!"

The other, realizing her master had already darted off like always, quickened her pace. The rhythmic crunching of snow gave queue to the wintry melodies, the idle orchestra rising to Allegro.