The ridge was a small lip at the bottom of a sheered cliff face dipping into a gusty pit below. Rontori approached the crumbling stone and waved Oen forward towards the edge. “You ready to cross?” Rontori kneeled and pressed his fingertips into the fluffy snow.
“Doesn’t seem too difficult,” Oen placed her thumb in front of her eye to gauge the distance. “Can’t be more than a stone’s throw.”
Rontori took the first step and listened to the crisp, wet crunch of the snow as he shifted his weight onto the ledge. Oen observed how the dwarf stepped and sought to match him. The pair gained their footing after the first few steps and began to ease up.
“So,” Rontori began to speak as loose pebbles rolled from the wall his back was pressed against, “where is your accent from?” Oen continued to focus on mirroring the dwarf’s movements as she answered.
“Southern Athlatian. It’s a small network of villages under the watch of a local lord out in the west.”
“Haven’t heard of it. Although, I’ve only travelled the eastern stretch from the north mountains down to the mountains here. You get hit by the beasts?”
“Not yet and should they reach Athlatian then we needn’t worry here as the whole of the land will have been consumed first.”
“That far west, huh? So, what brought you to this part of the realm? Surely, you’re confident enough in the grand armies of men to stay at home and wait this whole ordeal out.” Oen emitted a dry laugh.
“I’d be lying if I said I had much confidence in the ways of those willing to hide behind such imposing walls while leaving their life-source in the fields out in the open. I traded those walls for the calm of the woods. But if you travelled from the mountains in the north to here, you must have passed through the heart of the Yjagtari warpath.”
“I made the first stretch before this mess. My family came from the True Iron holdings, proud Stoutkin, but I was gifted at finding my way into rather unfavorable locations. Managed to stumble into a vipers’ nest on a hunting trip and got two other hunters paralyzed for nearly three weeks.” Oen found this rather amusing and barely contained a laugh. “Aye, it was funny looking back, but sometimes you wander into places that not everyone comes back from and as good of a scout as you may be it doesn’t always make you the best guide.” Rontori sobered up momentarily before chuckling, “Probably not the best thing to be saying as I’m leading you to a potentially uncharted wyvern breeding ground.” Rontori took two more steps in silence before recalling his original point. “Back when I travelled into the human holdings in the south, the beastmen were simple creatures with some chanters and scattered camps. You just had to travel high on the dunes and mountains surrounding their barren home to get towards civilization. It’s a chilling place. Not chilling as these mountains, but the kind of cold that tugs at your beard and burrows into your heart. Sadness seeped into the cracked earth.”
“You sound sympathetic towards them.” Rontori took a moment to collect his thoughts and Oen patiently awaited his reply. No reply came after the final strides of the ledge. As Rontori’s feet planted firmly on the opposite edge of the ridge, he extended a gruff hand to help Oen across the last step.
“Good stepping, lass, perhaps you’ll accompany me on the next scouting mission, and we’ll discuss matters more. For now, we need to find the slope to get higher up and make our way back to toss down the line. And remember, this region of the mountains hasn’t been explored; not much time to do an exhaustive search and build a stronghold.” Oen pulled the weathered bow from her shoulder and readied an arrow.
“I’m looking forward to testing my shooting in this weather.” Oen glanced around for any scalable slope in the swirling snow. “Especially if I’ll be accompanying you in the future.”
The pair made their way a short distance forward before finding a choppy rise in the pass above. “This’ll be the spot. Keep your eyes open for any dips in the snow where a burrow might be. It’ll be easier if we find it before we get the muscle up here.”
“Why exactly do we need the general and the bloke?”
“To be completely honest, we may not need them if we find a burrow. However, there’s a chance it’ll be frozen over and we’ll need the assistance to quickly clear it. And there’s the off chance that we bring a pissed off wyvern down upon us.”
“Wait a moment, I was told this would be a sure thing. That the wyvern would swoop into the valley below without fail.” Rontori paused and turned to face Oen.
“I may have, slightly, tweaked the facts when I told the general that. See, what I said about the wyvern’s mother was completely true. However, on rare occasions she’ll keep her consorts or concubines close at hand, or talon rather, and well,” Rontori cracked a grin and patted his dagger in its sheath, “then we may have to fight.”
“You didn’t think it wise to mention this fact sooner? I wouldn’t want to consider my new travelling company prone to recklessly endangering his mates.”
“Well, think of it more from a larger, wyvern’s eye-view. We could be the first to record the defenses of wyvern nests in the southern mountains of the land.”
“While not reassuring to the task at hand, the prospect of the greater good is lucrative. It’s settled, I’ll continue onwards.”