Mountain Air

Mountain air flows through me. I breath it in through my nose, in cycles through my veins and I breath it gently from my mouth. The cold air clings to me like skin, wood smoke of the village is my natural scent. I cut my arm and autumn leaves flow out, leaving my body and floating gently through the sky. The leaves float across from the highest mountain tops, they shake loose from the trees like water shakes from a dogs fur.

            From the highest peak the leaves drift down, gently dancing as they go. They travel over the peaks and over the trees. They float down to the roads built by man and visit the lively villages where music rang. The leaves glide on the breeze, ever into the distance and ever downward. The autumn leaves find their way into the stream below. They pluck against the water and that is where they stay. Then the leaves start to move again as they are rushed away by the flowing stream.

            The mountain breaths a sigh of relief as the days grow shorter. Each breath sends a chilly wind down across the land. The people of the village feel the mountain's breath first but the cold breath warms as it travels down, so when the people of the city finally feel the breath of the mountain, it is no colder than a spring day. This is why it is always colder in the mountains.

            The cold air settles on the land, the sun drifts off to sleep and lights flicker in the village. Warm fires are lit in hearth and home. Fire, which was stolen from the gods and given to human kind, is used to help humans fight the dark and cold of night. The relaxing sound of flames burning at the wood mixes with the gentle noise of the wind blowing against the houses.

            The sun is down and the fires are lit. the mountain sleeps, the people sleep and I too, shall sleep.

The Vanguard part 2 of 2

   Jill was so angry from her conversation that morning she was hardly watching where she was going. Her steps were interrupted as she tried to put on her last armored boot. She hopped on one foot as she slid the armor over her leather boot. Just as she was fully armored up she fell forward into a group of travelers. These ‘travelers’ looked more liked bandits or thugs. Jill had the best luck.

            “Watch it girlie” Said a large brutish man. “Easy, Trom” Said a hooded man in the group. Trom, the large man, smiled “No, we have been walking for days and out of all the space in these mountains this clumsy girl falls right on us” Trom replies. “She has some nice armor. I think it would look better on me” said a girl brandishing two daggers. “Listen we have work to do and robbing one lone soldier isn’t part of our plan” said the hooded man. “Well majority rules, Locke. Who else thinks we should make this clumsy bitch pay for crashing into me?” asked Trom as he raised his hand. The dagger girl raised her hand, Lock, the cloaked man, just glared from under his hood and the fourth member of the party a silent man with a spear also raised his hand.

            “Just run, get out of here” Said Locke. Jill was angry and now had someone to take her aggression out on. “No way, this fat tub called me a bitch” Jill replied. “You three will be lucky to leave here with your spines intact” 

            The spearman lunged forward at Jillian. He wore a blue bandana, blue baggy pants, sandals, no shirt and was very tan. His spear looked like it was for hunting and not something a soldier would carry. Jill swatted the spear away as it flew straight at her. The force of her gauntlet smacking the spear away knocked the hunting spear out of the man’s hands. The assassin girl spun and slashed with her daggers. Jill reacted quickly, so quickly that she either had amazing reflexes or she could slow down time. Jill ducked to dodge the blades and then gave an uppercut punch to the assassin’s jaw. Bones cracked and teeth shattered under the force of Jill’s armored fist. While Jill was busy delivering an uppercut, Trom swung his hammer right into Jill's left side. She was knocked sideways from the force of the hammer strike.

            The assassin clutched her broken jaw. She couldn’t talk to reply but went after Jill while she was down. Locke moved in quickly and pulled a cutlass out from under his cloak. He moved in front of the assassin and blocked her daggers before she could strike out with them. “Don’t do this” Locke warned. The assassin’s face squished up into a horrible glare and then she tried to stab Lock in the stomach. A gunshot rang out and the assassin fell over dead. Blood poured from her mouth and a large wound in her stomach. Gun smoke drifted out from beneath Locke’s cloak.

            Trom and the spearman turned to Locke in disbelief. “You killed her!” the normally silence spearman said then charged at Locke.

            This distraction gave Jill enough time to unholster her Axe. Jill’s axe was a double blades war axe. it was thinner and lighter than most battle axes that barbarians carried and soldiers rarely used axes. This was special made to compliment Jill’s agility and strength. To make up for the lack of weight, the axe’s blades were always very sharp and could cut through armor and bone.

            Jill held the axe handle with one hand and let the blade hit the ground. She glared at Trom with fierce intensity.
Trom ran forward holding his giant hammer in the air, ready to smash it down on Jill.
Jill swung her large two handed axe with one hand and slashed Trom’s chest. The large man yelled and lost balance. He stumbled and fell, giving Jill enough time and an opening to attack.

            Red markings began to glow on Jill’s black armor. The armor was enchanted with runes and when activated made Jill increasingly more powerful. The red runes lit up in the center and then spread out to her arms and legs. Jill walked toward Trom with her axe resting on her shoulder. Red runes burned brightly in her armor and her eyes looked more red than brown. “Ready to die bandit?” Jill asked. Her voice was different, more menacing and every breath was visible. With every breath Jill looked like she was exhaling steam or smoke. Trom saw this transformation and for the first time in a long time he felt genuine fear. Trom saw Jill's glowing red eyes and her smoky breath and worried that soon she would be breathing fire. At that moment she appeared to be some manner of dragon or demon.

“Hey, lady, look I’m sorry. Ok? We’re even. I give up” Trom said as he dropped his hammer. “Remember what I said? You will be lucky if you leave here with your spine intact and you don’t look very lucky to me” Jill hissed.

            Jill charged forward Trom picked up his hammer and blocked Jill’s on coming axe attack but the axe split the head off of Trom’s hammer.
Jill grabbed Trom by the throat with her black metal gauntlet and began squeezing. Trom choked and dropped what was left of his hammer. “Stop! That’s enough!” Locke said from the background.

           Locke had been fighting with the spearman and was trying not to kill any more people. Once Lock let his guard down the spearman charged passed him and tried to stab his spear into Jill’s back. Jill spun around with uncanny speed and swung her axe. In one move she sidestepped the spear, turned around and swung her axe. the spear stabbed into Trom instead of Jill and as the spearman accidentally stabbed his boss Jill’s axe sliced through the air and chopped the spearman’s head clean off of his shoulders. the spearman's head bounced when it hit the ground and then rolled down the mountain path. The spearman stiffly clung to his spear but the rest of his body sagged over, bringing Trom’s body toppling over as well.

            Locke walked up to Jill. “I should have been warning them to run instead of warning you” he said grimly. He put down the hood of his dark gray cloak, revealing a young man with short spikey light brown hair, a bandanna around his head keeping his hair in place, tanned skin and blue eyes. Locke would normally have a big bright smile on his face but today he was wearing a grim stare.
“It had to be done. They had no respect for the life of others” Jill said coldly.

            “Neither do you!” Locke replied angry as he gestured at all of the bloodshed. “I have respect for innocent lives. You’re friends wouldn’t have spared me, so why should I spare them?” Jill said as she turned quickly to face Locke. Locke flinched as he expected her to attack him.
“they weren’t my friends and you spare people because you are better then they are, not equal” Locke replied. “Nice ideal, but I have been in too many wars to agree with you” Jill said as she turned away and continued down the mountain path. “Thanks for the help” Jill shouted back without turning. Locke nodded “Yeah, I thought I was helping” He said almost too quietly for Jill to hear. “You didn’t really need any help” Locke muttered.

            Jill continued down the path, leaving the dead bodies and the young Locke behind her. She found it odd for a bandit to stick up for a traveler and even stranger that he had a gun. Guns were new technology and almost no one had them. This had Jill feeling curious, but not curious enough to go back and bother talking with Locke again. Jill was still on a journey and couldn’t afford any more interruptions or set backs.

The first snowflakes of winter could be seen drifting over the kingdom and Jillian had little time to waste.

Law'Runce Rock Eater

I wanted to get a present for my father for father’s day, but I couldn’t think of anything to buy. My dad is one of the rare people that don’t value things as much as he values gestures and quiet time. So I asked myself, what do you get someone who doesn’t want anything? The answer is, a gesture.

            In the ancient times, back before the invention of the cell phone, or even before cars, there lived a tribe of nomadic orcs who traveled across the land looking for fertile soil, peace and quiet. Orcs were a race of humanoid creatures, usually large with small tusks or large teeth. Orcs have skin of various shades of green, yellow and brown. Some orcs even had black skin and red eyes, these were the shadow orcs, who did not live in peace at all. Shadow orcs lived in the volcanic lands of Ash lands, where ash and soot from molten rocks covered the land and the inhabitants below.

            The nomad orcs were peaceful and were primary warriors and shamans who practiced magic and communed with nature. The leader of the nomad orcs was a large dark green orc named Law’Runce The Rock Eater. This Orc was the tallest orc in the tribe and though he was thinner than most orcs, he could wield an axe just as well as anyone.

            Law’Runce grew up with the name Runce, which meant quiet one. When he became an adult the Law was added to his name because of his belief in upholding the rules and laws of the land. Adding Law to ones name usually meant the adult orc would go on to be a leader or enforcer of laws.

            When Law’Runce became an adult and after he was given his ‘complete’ name, he set off into the world to learn of nature and other races. Law’Runce was more of a thinker than the other orcs of his village. He grew up in a settlement of forest orcs, who were all dark and light green. These orcs never wondered about the outside world, they kept to themselves and hunted for food in the deepest parts of the forest. Law’Runce wanted to know about the world so he left the orc forest village.

            Law traveled through the forestlands, over the dumpy hills, and completely avoided the Ash lands. Law’Runce arrived in a mountainous region covered in pine trees and green grass, further up the mountain was rocky terrain, pine trees and snow. This land was the Pine Valley. Lower Pine valley was the greener lower altitude part of the mountains and upper Pine Valley was all rocks and snowy forests.

            In the Pine Valley Law found quiet but he had not found answers. He saw many types of land and different animals but he had not seen a single orc or any other race of creature. Law’Runce began to build a shelter in the lower Pine Valley so that he could stay warm when night swept over the land. Law was chopping a tree with his axe when he heard a noise. He chopped his axe into the tree which made a sound, but then a few seconds later another chopping sound was heard, it was either a delayed echo or someone else was cutting down a tree. Law’s curiosity got the better of him and he raced toward the sound. He spied a dark yellow orc chopping down a tree. He was so happy to find another orc but he didn’t want to startle an orc armed with an axe. Law’runce grunted and the yellow orc stopped chopping, he saw Law and grunted back. “Who are you? I am Thok” Said the dark yellow orc. “I am Law’Runce” Said Law. The yellow orc seemed happy to hear Law’s name. A large toothy grin spread across Thok’s face. “Were you named correctly? Do you bring law?” Asked Thok. “I try” Said Law, not sure why Thok was asking.

            Thok ran over to Law’runce looking as excited as an orc could. “Law bringer, quiet one. These are things that our tribe could use. We are a tribe of Nomad orcs that travel all over the Pine Valley. We are at unrest. We need orc who can help us set rules. I and others don’t want unrest. Travel does not mean no rules.” Thok explained, as he held out his hands in a pleading gesture.

            Law didn’t want to get involved with a group of new orcs he had never met, but he did want to learn new cultures and his conscience told him that helping would be the right thing to do.

            Thok took Law’Runce to the Nomad settlement, as they approached Law could already hear arguing. Law walked into the settlement and no one noticed him because everyone was at the center of town bickering about what to do next and where to go next.

            A light green skinned female orc with purple hair threw an axe at a dark brown skin male orc who was shouting. The axe cut off the tip of his black Mohawk and stuck into the tree behind him. The shouting orc sat down, knowing that the female orc missed on purpose. Another orc started to shout “Axes should be reserved for enemies not used for talks” Said another light green orc, his hair was black and grew down to the middle of his back. “I reserve this axe for you!” Shouted the purple hair female orc as she lifted another axe above her head. Thok ran into the middle of the group and shouted, “Stop! I brought help! Law’Runce, he is here to help with laws” Thok pleaded with the group. A light yellow skinned female orc grabbed a rock and threw it at Thok’s head “We don’t need outsiders giving orders!” Said the light yellow orc. Thok looked discouraged by this.

            As the group of Orcs bickered Law looked around and saw huts in disrepair, children looking hungry and sitting by their parents as the parents did nothing more than yelling and throwing stones. Law’Runce was never the most outspoken orc but he could not stand to see children mistreated and entire villages of adults who can’t take care of their own homes. The forest orcs were peaceful and they might have been ignorant of the outside world but they knew how to maintain a village and live well.

            Law charged into the middle of the group, the injustice of neglectful orcs and the anger of foolish adults welled up in him from the core of his being. “HEY!!!” He shouted. His shout was so loud that it echoed through the entire Pine Valley. This was the lost shout of Mul’vani, who was the oldest and strongest orc in the forest tribe. He was a great shaman and when he died he called to the earth and shouted one last time. His shout shook every tree in the Great Forest and the land itself absorbed the power of the shout. Mul’vani communed with the spirits of the forest and he gave his powers to the forest itself. In exchange, the forest would channel the magic of the shout into all the Orcs who lived in the Great Forest.  The forest tribe of orcs were never taught how to use this shout but were only told that it would be released during important times. It was a shout so powerful that it could capture the hearts and minds of any who hear it.

            Law’Runce had never heard the Mul’vani shout in person until it burst out from his jaws.  The orcs of the Pine Valley didn’t know what the Mul’vani shout was and had no idea that a shout could ever be so loud or commanding. Law’runce had everyone’s full attention.  “I am new to this tribe but I already see problems. While you argue over where to travel next the place you live now rots. Your children go hungry because no one hunts, they learn only to fight each other and not to fight enemies. I have traveled a little but I have seen many lands and was raised in a great forest where everyone cared for each other. I have heard stories of Ashland Orcs, the shadow orcs from the volcano lands. They do nothing but fight, they don’t hunt they eat other orcs. Do you want to be like them? Do you want children to be like shadow orcs?! Or do you want them to learn hunting, kindness and shaman wisdom?” Law shouted to the group of wide eyed orcs.

            “He has point! And his tribe named him Law. Which mean he help with rules and order” Thok said, regaining his confidence. Most of the tribe began to think about the words of Law’Runce but a small percent of them were still bitter and angry from a day of fighting. “You promise big things but you from forest, you don’t know Pine Valley like we do!” Shouted a pale yellow male orc. The orc picked up a large rock and threw it at Law’Runce’s head. Law gritted his teeth in anger at the protest. Law didn’t want to rule the tribe he just wanted them to realize the harm they were doing to themselves and their children. The anger came back and Law lunged forward and caught the rock in his mouth. Law let out a might growl and chomped down on the stone shattering it into a thousand pieces. “Fools!” She shouted as rock fragments flew from his jaws. The crowd fell silent again.

            “Rock Eater! Rock Eater! Rock Eater!” Shouted the crowd. The Orc who threw the rock was pummeled into submission and no one else had a counter argument. Law’Runce was now known as Law’Runce the rock eater. His name was the quiet law bringer but his nickname Rock Eater was the show of force, strength and determination that orcs admired.

            After that point Law’Runce began helping the tribe of nomads set up rules that would be followed exactly. They assigned jobs for people to hunt for food, care for children, repair tents, guard the settlement, train others in combat, scout the land and even assigned jobs for when they had to uproot the settlement and travel. After a year of Law’runce being the rule making and the guiding force for the tribe, the Nomad orcs decided to make Law’Runce their War Chief. War Chief Law’Runce Rock Eater ruled the nomads for many years and helped them through difficult times. They relied on him and looked to him for aid. He was the strategist for battles and the peacemaker for disputes. He was always there to help others and helped so frequently that asking for help felt natural. No matter how hard the life in the Pine Valley was, Law’Runce was always there for his people and for his children.

Happy Fathers Day.

The Duel on Wolf Peak

            The winter festival was fast approaching, it was a time to celebrate and eat one last big meal before the harshness of deep winter set in. All throughout the land people would hang colorful lanterns, cook delicious roasts with herbs and eat the last fresh vegetables of the year. The approaching months would be a time to preserve and conserve on food and resources so the winter festival was seen as a bright, colorful and loud firework in the sky before the dead of night set in. To the people living in the town of Wolf Peak it was one of the biggest holidays of the year. Wolf Peak was located in the White Mountains and the White Mountains had the harshest winds and coldest winters in all of the land. By the middle of winter Wolf Peak would be completely trapped by snow and deadly winds. The towns in the low lands could leave their house and even travel in an emergency if they had to. The people of Wolf Peak were confined to the town, cut off from the rest of the world for three months.

            During the Winter Festival people would prepare for the long winter ahead or just leave town and head for the lowlands, where the winters were shorter and less severe. The only saving grace that Wolf Peak had was the shelter of the Respite caves. Long tunnels and man made caves that bore deep into the mountain were known as the Respite caves, the town of Wolf Peak was built inside of the caves. Villagers wouldn’t be snowed into their houses but they were completely trapped inside of the mountain. The villagers who lived in Wolf Peak all year had a close bond with each other. After a year of relying on your neighbor you start to see your neighbor as a brother or sister.

            Soft music echoed out from the town and warm lights could be see shining in the Respite caves. People were celebrating, preparing for the night of the Winter Festival and preparing for the long winter afterward. While most celebrated there were those who had other matters that needed their attention. In such a peaceful and joyous time there were those who insisted on fighting.

Clashing swords rang out through the mountains, two men stood facing each other in a duel to the death. The bitter cold winds of the White Mountain Pass blew through the combatants but they both stood unmoving. One fighter was wearing all black armor, a black helmet that was rounded at the top and came to a point in the front, a long red scarf wrapped tightly around the neck, carried a long sword and shield and had a battle axe on his back. The first fighter was known as the Vanguard and had more than a few legends.

            The second fighter was known as Sir Gregory Andrews, a former knight who apposed his king and was thrown out of the castle and stripped of his honor and title. Sir Andrews was more recently known as Gregory the knight mercenary. Sir Gregory Andrews had medium length messy brown hair. A trimmed goatee that was starting to grow out and looked like it hadn’t been maintained in a few weeks. He wore silver armor that he owned from his days as a knight, the armor used to shine brightly like a star but it hadn’t been cleaned or polished in a while. Gregory used to have a helmet but the King had taken it away because it had the Kingdom seal on it. Even though his kingdom branded him a traitor he still tried to be noble in everything he did but also needed to eat and many of Sir Andrews’ deeds had not been noble as of late. Gregory knew the Vanguard was wanted by the king and figured if he captured the black armored villain then his good name would be restored and the King might even forgive him for all that treason stuff.

            Few people knew why the Vanguard was a wanted criminal and even less knew who the Vanguard even was. Sir Andrews didn’t care though, he needed to return to his noble statues and was running out of ways to get back on the King’s good side. Gregory charged at the Vanguard with his two handed sword, Gregory’s dirt covered silver armor clanked against the stone with every step.  The Vanguard did not react to Gregory’s sudden charge, the dark night just stood like a statue, firm and unwavering. Sir Andrews swung his sword, swinging it downward with all of his strength. The Vanguard moved with unnatural speed moments before the sword struck his armor. The Vanguard moved out of the way and in one motion slammed his shield into Gregory’s chest. The blow from the shield struck with such force that it knocked Gregory off of his feet and sent him backward into the snow.

            Gregory struggled to get to his feet as he clutched his chest and tried to breath again. The strike was so strong that Sir Andrews was lucky he didn’t have internal bleeding. “Why do you wish to fight me?” Asked the Vanguard, his voice echoed through his helmet and sounded almost inhuman. “I need to bring your head to my King. You are a villain with a price on your head” Gregory said as he held his sword up again. “I am wanted in many kingdoms, but I am not a villain. I do not want to kill you, but I will defend myself. If your honor commands you to slay me then you risk your life in trying to do so” The Vanguard said as he sheathed his sword, tied his shield to his back and pulled his two handed axe from its holster on his back.

            Sir Andrews held his sword tightly, he didn’t want to keep fighting, he felt out matched by this nightmare of a knight, but he couldn’t live another day as a mercenary. “If I kill you my honor will be restored, I cannot live without my honor. I won’t live another day as a dog” Said Andrews as he charged again. He swung his sword downward like before and the Vanguard crouched down to start a counter attack, knowing that the Vanguard would counter Gregory didn’t put all of his weight into his sword like last time and instead brought his knee up as his sword came down. The Vanguard tried to react but was kneed in the head. Gregory was able to bring his sword down on the now dazed Vanguard. The sacrifice was that his sword slash was not as powerful as it normally would have been.

            The Vanguard tumbled backward into the snow with a fresh slash in his armor. “Your supposed ‘honor’ binds you to your king like a dog. The kingdoms hate me because I am truly free. I have honor, I spare the weak and I do not resort to cheap tricks, but I am hated because I do not let others use my honor to chain me down” The Vanguard said, his words rang out, echoing with each word. The words stung Sir Andrews as he thought back to the things he did to survive all the while hoping to regain the King’s favor and his precious honor. “Enough talk, I will finish you here and now!” Gregory said as he stabbed his sword down on the Vanguard who was starting to stand back up.

            The Vanguard couldn’t react fast enough and the sword plunged through the shoulder joint in the armor were there was little protection. The Vanguard’s armor had weak spots and joints in it for increased mobility. The weakness in the Vanguard’s armor had been exploited and blood dripped from the shoulder joint and down the Vanguard’s hand as his blood spilled out through his armor. “So you are a man after all. So many stories were told of you being a demon or a specter that haunted a suit of armor” Said Sir Gregory with triumph.

            The Vanguard’s armor began to glow and pulsing red light vibrated from the black metal plates. Gregory stepped back as the Vanguard stood up. “I am none of those things. What I am, is your death” Said the Vanguard, his voice echoing from his helmet in a rage. Icy wind blew over the two combatants and the snow began to blow in from the north. The winter storms were growing more intense and if the battle lasted much longer both the Vanguard and Gregory would freeze to death.

            The Vanguard took off his helmet and threw it into the snow. Gregory Andrews was take back by what he saw. The Vanguard lifted his axe with one hand as his other arm lay limp. Before Gregory could react the Vanguard had moved forward four feet in a blink and was mid attack. Gregory only blinked once and then saw the Vanguard raising his axe into the air and then down onto Sir Gregory’s shoulder. The axe slashed through Sir Andrews’ armor and cut a chunk into his shoulder, upper torso and ribcage. Sir Gregory Andrews coughed up blood and stared at the Vanguard with a hazy vision.

            A woman with jet black hair, burning red eyes and skin as white as the snow stared at Gregory with intense hatred. “You lived like a dog, chained to your master. Now this is where you die, cold, alone and forgotten” Said the Vanguard, her gaze harsher than the winter winds of the White Mountain. The Vanguard picked up her helmet, placed it back onto her head and walked off, blood dripping from her arm and leaving a trail behind her. Soon she disappeared into the wind and snow of the mountain and Sir Gregory was left alone. Blood poured from his wounds and he began to lose consciousness. Faint music was heard from the town of Wolf Peak and Gregory smiled. The Winter Festival was starting and Gregory wondered were he would be right now if he hadn’t chased after the King’s favor like mad dog.

            Gregory closed his eyes, music played softly like a lullaby and then soon faded. The sound of the wind disappeared and the cold could no longer be felt.  The Winter Festival was fast approaching and everyone was busy celebrating.

White Mountain Pass

            The icy wind blew through the White Mountain pass. The rushing air was so cold that it cut through layers of clothing, skin, and muscle tissue and chilled every living thing to the bone. The wind might as well have been a grim specter of death the way it froze a man to his core and howled as it blew by. Unseen, bitter, sharp, cold and howling as it passes, the wind of the White Mountains was no mere wind. A windy day in the lowlands would cause villagers to put on a hat and maybe tie up their coats, but a windy day in the White Mountains could be fatal.

            Due to the White Mountains reputation of being dangerous, steep and a tad windy many assumed that no one lived in the mountains, but in fact a whole village was safely tucked away in the mountains. Since the freezing cold air of the night and the harsh winds of winter were enough to knock down most houses only the strongest castles or fortresses would be able to withstand the weather of the White Mountains. The town was not sheltered within a Fortress, it was literally in the White Mountains.

            Ages ago tunnels were dug deep in the mountains as a temporary shelter for those who crossed through the White Mountain Pass. The tunnels were dug deeper and deeper and eventually many of tunnels and passageways met. Merchants and travelers would occasionally be stranded in the tunnels by a long lasting blizzard. The travelers would have to learn to survive for days, weeks or even months in the tunnels by rationing what they had and sharing among others. When the storms died down most travelers would leave but many did not. A few crafty merchants realized that travel was not slowing down through the mountains and every year someone would get trapped in the tunnels because of a sudden storm or poor planning. So the merchants set up shop in the tunnels and continued to expand the tunnels even further.

            The White Mountains were safe to travel during specific windows of time. As long as it was daytime, there wasn’t a storm on the horizon and it wasn’t winter, the path through the mountains was relatively safe. Merchants would use these windows of safety to gather supplies and hire workers. Only the bravest, greediest and toughest people would venture into the mountains to build a outpost in the tunnels. It took a fair amount of traveling experience and bravery just to cross through the pass, but these merchants wanted to live there permanently.

            Time passed and the tunnels used by travelers for safety became an outpost of merchants and basic lodging. The outpost grew as traveling merchants saw a market for the aiding their fellow man while making money at the same time and this point had laid out all the groundwork. The tunnels soon became known as Respite tunnels and the outpost went from being Respite Outpost to Wolf Peak village. The tunnels bore deep into the part of the mountain known as Wolf Peak and it made the locals feel more rugged living in a village with a cool name.

            Time passed on, winter came and went, the town slowly grew and as the town grew so did its popularity. The town was unique for being both the only town in the White Mountains but also was the only town build underground and within tunnels. Having Respite tunnels and Wolf Peak Village located on the path through the mountains made the mountains a safer place to travel. Travelers didn’t have to worry about getting snowed in and stuck in the mountains without food because Wolf peak always had enough food to last through the winter. Making the trail safer increased traffic, increased traffic made an increase in trouble.

            The White Mountain pass has seen its fair share of stories both before and after the village of Wolf Peak was built and during these cold winter months we will look at some of the stories that transpired on these icy peaks.