Far to the north, beyond the ancient pine forests that mark the bounds of Gilbain’s territory lie the Frostfells. Steep faces that rarely see sunshine where hardy people survive by hunting and trapping in the deep valleys. Here the people herd their mountain goats and yaks, needing every resource to survive. Yet it is among these desolate peaks that a stone walled city stands to the amazement of any traveler to reach it.
I spoke to a reliable wanderer who wintered with the people of those mountains and learned of their ways. He told me of their courage in facing the dread forces of nature and the ferocious Yeti which prays on the weak and innocent with cunning and great strength.
"It took me nearly a month to get into the mountains, having to cross all of Gilbain, and then the lands beyond without escort. I feel that I am getting too old for this kind of thing, but chance lead me to the rescue of a young hill barbarian on the north face of the crescent mountains.
"He was under the attack of some white furred creatures, appearing almost as great furry parodies of trolls or orcs. They showed intelligence, and what may have been speech among themselves as they drove him into a box canyon, presumably to slay him."
"Seeing that he was outnumbered and not likely to survive on his own, I felt justified in lending him a hand. Luck let me gain the ridge above the creatures and their pray with none of them the wiser, even though I must have sent a good hundred weight of gravel plummeting down that slope in my hurry.
"Well I put arrow to bow, and a couple more beside for good measure and drew upon the largest of the creatures as he was reaching for the axe wielding barbaian’s leg. My arrow flew true and caught the beastie in the shoulder, not in time to stop him from taking a chunk out of the man’s leg though. My second arrow also caught one of the creatures, but the third flew wide in the swirling wind of the canyon.
"The two I hit soon swooned from the lovely herbal concoction which has been provided at times for the use of the scouts guild’s archers. While they were down and out their companions retreated from the field of battle, and the injured barbarian was feeling in no mood to give pursuit with his leg all torn up.
"When I made it down to him, I was forced to dispatch the two creatures, lest they gain consciousness while I was treating the lad. He woke the next afternoon, and the poltice I provided to his leg was helping him recover faster than he would have believed possible. Out of his gratitude he agreed to carry some of my missives to house Toevass, on his way into the Kingdom of Silverthorne.
"He also verified that the city in the Frostfell mountains was indeed real. He claims that the chieftains among many of the hill tribes here make a pilgrimage there before assuming control of the tribe. He says that many of their herb witches come from there as well. The city I seek seems to be something of a sacred site to the fierce barbarians of the northlands.
"After I made clear my intentions to travel there he informed me of several customs belonging to the people of that region and recommended that I take the hide of the Yeti, to prove my stature among them. It is supposedly considered the mark of a great warrior to kill the beasts. Though in my case I rather consider it the mark of great luck. If I was to close with them they would surely have ripped into me as they did the boy.
"At any rate after little more trouble and only a couple of brief encounters with other tribesmen I reached the Frostfells. At this point I was glad for the yeti skins, as the temperature plunged rapidly. There was little food to be found, and I might have starved had I not been familiar with mountain foraging on account of my service at Northwatch for king Silverthorne.
"First sight of that city would have to wait though until I dealt with its guardians and assured them of the veracity of my purpose. It was just after sunset, and I was huddled in the lee of a drift, under the shelter of a rocky outcropping when I heard the first shuffling outside. With little chance of their having not noticed me already, I figured bow and spear would have to answer whatever threat came to investigate my crude shelter.
"Much to my shock two giant white bears rounded the drift. Their heads were low to the ground as though sniffing out my trail, and their eyes seemed to glow a pale yellow in the flicker of my fire. I put my back to the rock wall, feeling granite along my spine and prepared for the worst. It never came.
"As the beasts edged further into the light I noticed the riders upon their backs, long lances at the ready. They were a dark and bearded pair, with eyes that could have driven spikes of ice through the breast of even the fiercest kingdom warrior. How they controlled such powerful beasts enough to ride is quite beyond me. Seems that they had a bond with them though, for the animals put their riders down without a word said, and no reins were in appearance.
"When they approached me I say the swing of great axes at each hip and long daggers revealed in the tops of furred riding boots. They were dressed very like to me, in hide of a straggly white color, turned inside out to keep the cold from biting into tender flesh.
"One pointed at my blanket. His only word was ‘Yeti.’ More a statement than a question. When I nodded he grinned and broke out a flask. It seemed that I had already proven myself well enough in their book.
"The next day the two of them lead me to their city. For them I’m sure the trip was quite relaxing with the help of such magnificent riding beasts, but I struggled through drifts to my waist and clambered over rockfalls twice my own height.
"It was worth it for the sight that met us at sundown though. There, outlined against a backdrop of charcoal colored stone a fortress city stood. Its square walls hunched against the mountain like a child clinging to its mother’s leg. As we appraoched those walls towered over us, probably a good hundred feet in height and joined seemlessly without a drop of mortar. When we passed through the gates, another dozen men on the white bears, which I learned were common to the iceflows of the east passed by my guides. They saluted one another with loud calls and insults, which seemed to be in good chear, though I seemed to be at the but of more than one joking remark.
"Within the walls the city was a maze of half completed stonework, though no masons were present. It seems that the current inhabitants adopted it from some other people whom they refer to as ‘the great ones’ it was this people who taught the barbarians of the north the secret of fire and how to war on the yeti. When the great ones disappeared they left the chief among men in charge of their city, and told him and his descendants to wait for the day of the return. The Great Ones then disappeared into the depths of the mountain passes never to be seen again.
"Ever since the mountain tribes have warred on the yeti, each rooting out any weakness among the other in a place where only the strongest can survive. It was to this battle that the bear riders were born and raised. After killing their first yeti alone and on foot those who seek to be riders go alone into the wilderness and live with the bears. After many seasons the lucky few come back as riders. They are considered the greatest warriors among a proud warrior nation, and are awarded great honors in the mead halls when the blizzards of winter close down around the passes beyond city walls.
"Every summer the barbarians from the south come up from the hills bringing steel weapons and seeking to learn from the great warriors of the north. When they return to the hills of their tribes they often take back brides from among the northern people, so that sons born to the south can know the strength and pride of their northern cousins. These women serve the tribes as herb witches and craft poultices to treat the wounds and sickness of a people deeply superstitious about magic.
"Within the great central hall of the keep, where I was permitted to feast after joining a war party on a raid against a yeti scouting party sighted off the north slope I witnessed the fear of magic first hand. I had already lived with them some time, becoming hardened by their lifestyle, and learning to push my body beyond any limits I had previously imagined. It was within their hall that I watched a poor woman accused of witchcraft for the sickness which had overcome her husband and son. She was burned upon the spit, and I felt sick to my stomach at the brutality I witnessed, unable to oppose it. While I sat in the shadows and the barbarians prepared to roast her she miraculously disappeared from view. They were shocked into outrage, and nearly tore the city apart searching for her.
"The next day when I was gathering herbs for my poultices in the mountains beyond the gates I had a chance to bid her farewell. She is no longer at liberty to live among her people, but at least she lives. Sometimes I wonder, when thinking about the grief in her eyes, or the sobs which racked her as she spoke of her husband’s wasting sickness, which was the better fate for her to suffer.
"We all have a place though, and she seemed to be determined to learn to cure that which destroyed her family. I sent her south, to some scholars I once knew, and she sent me north seeking once more the reason for this endless war between barbarian and beast. Perhaps there is more to it than the surface shows"
"With the gates of Frostfell city behind me once more, I paused to admire the city, whose thousands could never have built her, and whose stories remain a mystery even to this day."
Strider Al’Terra Winter 998-9Seventh Tome of House Toevass