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The Ered Engrin, the great, indomitable Iron Mountains...
In those days of yore that have passed out of memory, the Iron Mountains lay from the east to the west in the northerlands of Hisui, before the War of Wrath when the fashion of the world was changed. They were greater and more mighty, and few wanderers risked the climb toward the lands beyond or whatever secrets they might find within them. To the furthest north beyond the Ered Engrin was Dor-na-Daecheras, which was once known as the Alabaster Icelands before the Fell Winter. The tallest peak, Mount Coronet, had an ill name, even before the darkness of the Enemy came into the north.
Some rumored that the mountain had a mind of its own, one that proved a deadly adversary. Tales of unproved snowfalls and maddened Pokemon reached Jubilife among the tales that flowed in from the north and west. Coronet the Cruel, it was called, before the changing of the world and the mountains were tamed and diminished. Not made of tame grey stone like its neighbors, Coronet was dipped in igneous sun-blood at its tip when the sky permitted it. Barazinbar, the Redhorn, it was called.
The company marched through the lower foothills, and the mountains towered upward into the silver sky, nearer and nearer. On the third day of the lengthy climb, Coronet rose before them, a mighty peak, tipped with silver snow and a sun-glare like blood over the summit. There was a black look to the sky, and the sun was faint and wan. A bitter wind swirled around the rocks, bringing great helpings of fallen snow from the uttermost north where the colds of the Mbelekoro were even stronger.
On a day of snow so great and violent that the entire fellowship ceased their travel, Cyllene wondered if this weather was not wholly natural, and was sent to oppose them. "Perhaps this is a contrivance of the Enemy," she said. "I have heard that he can govern the storms and winds in the south, only tamed by the Dragon Lord Rayquaza, his rival in the first heaven. The Dark Lord has strange powers and many allies. Legend has it that this mountain is indwelt by a demon, and although it has become bound to this place, the Mbelekoro might have made an alliance with it."
"His power is great indeed, and his arm has grown long," Laventon said. "If he can draw snow here with his mere will to torment us. We may need to journey to the place of rest that I have spoken of. It is nary but ten leagues away northward, upon the roots of the Baranzibar."
"Ten leagues in the mountains?" Adaman said. "Rather a hundred on land, and I will not account for pitfalls and precarious slopes. And we cannot travel through the air! What misfortune for us that we may yet be overcome by Coronet the Cruel, in the land that our deeds have brought us to at long last. If it is necessary, should we fall back, and go about the sea? Or will that not avail us, and we will fall to ruin in the ice-floes of Dor-na-Daerachas?"
Iscan drank a bit of cold water and curled his lip in hatred for the implacable mountains. "We do not fight against flesh and blood, but the Powers, and the Authorities. We are far outmatched. The gaze of the Evil One pierces all things. From his deep vaults beneath the Earth in the South, the Dark Lord sees all, and all his slaves are bent to his will. His gaze pierces stone, shadow, and flesh. What a great burden it is to fight him. The days are shadowed. The sun hides away."
After some last torrents, the wind finally became mild, and the company set out again over the rock ledges toward Coronet. But they had only gone a furlong before the storm returned with even greater ferocity. The snow became a blinding blizzard, and even the ice-hardened Avallugs seemed to quaver in the gale. The fell song of a Frostlass was heard over the peaks, moving the frost to a more terrible frenzy with some dark witchery.
Soon even Iscan found that he was beset and weary, and Adaman followed him on light steps. Akari and Rei lagged behind the company, feet like leaden weights. Lian drove the Avaluggs onward into madness. Mount Coronet stood mocking their futile attempts at crossing the Ered Engrin, and eerie noises like shrill laughter and screams echoed across the shattered waste. Every now and then a boulder fell from heights above, making the group go ever slower in caution so as not to be smitten and sent plummeting into the rifts below.
Magmar or Typhlosion would light a fire on occasion, but they were short-lived and provided little comfort. Fuel and stock were scarce in the mountains, and the blaze could only be kept alive through constant work by the Pokémon, tiring them greatly. Adaman would try to convince the others to go without a fire for as long as could be endured, in case there were any unfriendly watchers or Pokémon roaming the mountains that would see their flames. His pleas usually went undebated, as the light and warmth of the fire cheered the spirits of everyone, and banished the long night for a little while.
Two days of hard travel passed, and Coronet seemed to have a faint glow coming from a dun patch upon its glacial slope. When the weather cleared after a long burst of icy wrath, Adaman and Iscan, having the most skilled night-eyes, could see a sharp outcropping jutting from Coronet's slopes above a wide ravine, with a carven black-stone gate concealing some mountain hold.
After reviewing the maps that he had brought, Laventon was able to measure a path of little peril that could reach the door through the routes that he saw. "This is the place of rest in the mountains, what I have been telling you all about! No longer will it fall on deaf ears! Let us make haste for the door at once, unless
Adaman was not pleased, and brought the Company into another debate. "What should give for us to follow your bidding? We do not know what lies beyond those graven doors! This is a place of the power of the Enemy, and what treachery and woven spells of confusion could be about may lie in the form of a promised refuge! Have we seen any sign that deems we should go there? Do we know where this Iron King is, so that we may slay him? Not yet, and we are not to go in that door unless our very breath depends on it!"
"Yes, where is this Iron King?" Cyllene wondered. "Does his stronghold lie within those doors, or at the peak of Coronet? Can he be overcome by force? Is he the Mbelekoro or one of his slaves? We know little. For a long while, we have been ignorant of the devices of our enemy, and we have been revealed lesser still. What are we to do if we encounter him? How are we to foil his designs?"
Then it came to Rei. Like a sudden elevation of the heart, he felt a great inclination to venture into those doors. He did not feel any yearning to go further to the high summit of Coronet, or continue to stumble without knowledge and amid frost in the perilous mountains any longer, steerless and unguided.
"I have gone into a passion!" Rei cried. "We must go into that stronghold, be it for good or ill. Every sign and thought is now bent upon it, as it was when I had the very first prophetic dream. Let us go there at once, both dreading and loving what we may find."
Adaman and Iscan no longer had any say in the matter if Rei sided with Laventon. Lian was too desperate to worry about the consequences, and Akari and Cyllene would side with the Dream-seer in any manner of thought. "In that case," Adaman said. "We are to go. But I will be blameless if some terrible occurrence befalls us, and we fail to accomplish our task, for I have counseled against this course of action. Now, we make the final push! There may be room on the Avallugs for the young folk, and I may carry them along with Iscan and Laventon."
Then they were off. Instead of the winds and malice increasing, they lessened, as if mighty Coronet was satisfied that no one would journey to it any longer, it having utterly defeated that hope. The piling of snow lessened, and it was only ankle-high in some places. As the door neared, fewer Pokémon were seen, although no one could explain why this was. Iscan's Kleavor was wary, but not afraid or alarmed as it would be in case of an imminent threat. In the whole span of the march, it seemed that there was a constant presence about the gate, although if it was for good or evil, Rei could not tell. It was either wickedness well concealed, or a fair realm yet unveiled.
When the fifth night of frost and slithering snow passed, the tall entrance was clear, and within a mile's journey. But Laventon's maps had failed him at the last, for there was no longer any clear route without unacceptable peril, and the only way of travel skywards to the stronghold was up a sheer cliff face, which petered off onto the outcropping before the doors and the wide plateu before them.
Sneasler scouted out a path along the cliff, and planted study foot and handholds of iron pegs into the ice, claiming upwards with its claws embedded into the shorn rocks. "We shall go this way if my eyes do not mistake me," Iscan said. "The Pokémon will carry the women, and I and Adaman shall have Lian and Rei on our backs. Hold on, Young Masters, and be wary. We shall have need of our arms."
After a harrowing climb that seemed to last many hours, the equipment from the Avaluggs was brought up by Sneasler, leaving the two Pokémon below to rest in the scattered frost. Sneasler had brought the Golden Company to the wide precipice before the gates, and the seven threw down naryesse ropes of Hisuian make toward the deep cliff border where they would return.
As for the company, they marveled at the greatly crafted doors, high and dominating. At the top were three orbed of glittering glass, and a glimmer of light shone through them from lamps undimmed. Great pillars of ebony-dark stone held aloft the groaning arch above the gate, itself emblazoned with many silver and gold runes of power. As for the great doors, carved into them were statues of great folk and heroes from days of yore long past, although not a single Pokémon was given homage. Rei thought that some of the men and women looked rather unpleasant and cruel, although people of renown.
Some great power perceived the seven, and the doors ground open upon its command, revealing a great hall of massive carvings and bas reliefs, of a workmanship worthy of the Elder Days of the world. A blazing roof of red rock was upheld by a many-pillared hall of stone that reached into the far distance, a mansion delved into Mount Coronet far beyond even the greatest of the cities of Men. The wide hall was sound and undamaged, full of lighted braziers in level pairs leading down the hall.
The company that emerged from the great doors was not as welcoming. Eight men of arms came forth, with hauberks of leather and shoulderguards of mail, bearing caps of animal hide and sea-blue dyed tunics with iron-capped boots, cloaked in dark furs and bearing gleaming, naked blades without their scabbards. They looked fey, and a cold light was in their eyes. Rei almost started for the Apricorn Capture Devices.
The leader of the small armament, a scarred man with a Bisharp by his side, gave his greeting to the Golden Company. "I am the commander of the garrison of the mountain hold. How is it that we find two warriors, a man of science, a fair lady, and three mere children, along with an arrangement of Pokémon outside our fortress? These are unfriendly times, and not everyone should be taken into our dwelling!" the captain addressed Adaman. "You, longshanks. What is your name, and the doing of this company at such a strange hour?"
Adaman stood his ground, and his hand was upon the hilt of the Mormakil. "If I am to tell you my name, it would be warranted for you to tell me yours, door-keeper."
The captain rested his guard, as if expecting such a denseresponse. "Typically, it is customary for the stranger to tell of their intentions first. But good fortune to you and your kin, friends! I am Malacus, and the Lord of this stronghold has been awaiting you for some time."
"Who is this lord?" Lian asked. "And why did he know that we were coming?"
"We espied your camp nary three days ago," Malacus said. "From the fires that we saw. We always have welcomed those who seek rest in the Ered Engrin, in refuge from Coronet the Cruel. Come in, and you will behold a wonder and marvel to behold that few ever do. We harbor no wicked intentions, and will take only the allies of Arceus and his scions as companions and guests.
Adaman put his hand off the pommel of his sword in rest. "If that is the truth, and I deign that it is from your truthful mannerisms (for we are truth-knowers, we Men of Hisui), then I am Adaman of the Diamond Clan of Hisui, high lord of the Guard of Adamant that governs from Barad Nimaras, the White Tower by the shores of the Sundering Seas. The dark southman is Iscan of Jublife Town, son of Fankil, son of Langon of Alola. And as for the others, I will not speak for until we have met this Lord you speak of, for the tidings I give to you he shall know of. You will welcome us with the guest-right, or we will spurn your sight."
"If you are to be so bidden," Malacus said. "you may have an audience with the Lord of the Mountain, so that our friendship may wax in these troubled times. Come! Make yourselves comfortable, for you will find good food and drink in the House of the Mountain Lord. You are welcomed, Men of Hisui, into these halls. I bind our fate to your safe passage
Laventon started forward, and when no unpleasant fate befell him as he crossed the rustic threshold, the others went into the great hold. Once the entire company and divided garrison had entered, the rock doors swung shut with a thunderous boom, although Rei saw no device that had sealed them. They were alive, but could not escape the vast mansion if things went ill.
And so the Golden Company beheld the Halls of the Mountains Lord. The great hall stretched onward for a mile, and the pillars became huge and polished, and gems within the walls glittered as the group walked upon a fair carpet of sheer crimson. "This is a wonder of the world!" Akari cried. "It would take thousands of men and Pokémon hammering and chiseling at this rock for hundreds of years to make this, and in solid stone as well! How was this done? No tidings of such a marvelous place have reached the towns of Hisui!"
"Our Lord is of great power, and this is his fastness." Malacus cryptically answered. "Many come into here, and many do not return to the sunlight and clean air, although this is a choice of their own accord. This was built but within a century, and has remained concealed by many clever arts and secret ways for many leagues of years."
"Well," Rei said. "I don't think that we are going to be staying here for any longer than we must. This place is grand, but it is also strange to me. The statues are great and fair, but I feel as if they are all cruel, all dead, all cold stone to me. Something that I do not know of is afoot in this place, and I will have to address your Lord about it if we are to see him soon."
Malacus was silent for the rest of the journey. The company then perceived that there were many side-passages, entrances, and strange halls that went into depths unknown, smooth and level in height but very narrow. Except for the Bisharp, not a single other Pokémon was seen, not even in a graven image, and for what reason none knew, and no one asked of it. A stifling aura of silence had come down upon the Company, and they could not speak for some reason that none could give credence to.
At the end of the grand hall, there lay a set of great doors, mighty but less strong than the black gate that guarded the entrance to this fortress of mystery. Malacus knocked, and the twin openings swung wide of their own accord. The garrison took posts about the granite walls while the Golden Company was ushered into the room.
After a brief antechamber was a great feast hall, with plants of strange nature clawing about the half-sunken pillars that dotted the walls. A great beir with seats around it was in the center of the hall, although the white-sheeted table had no food or drink to be seen. The walls were bare, with the exception of many growths of vines that crept up the walls, battling with the old stonework. Rei thought that it was curious that they had not yet been maintained.
Beyond the table was a throne of red stone, and a man sat upon it, holding naught in his reach. He had burgundy hair and a flowing sash of crimson across his chest, with pale Kalosi skin and sandals of gold. His undergarment was a black robe, of which designs like a sun sprouted from the sleeve-ends and neck-hole. He wore wrapped white strips about his elbows and further below, concealing his hands. Upon his brow he bore a crown with a symbol like a star falling out of the sky and the words MARCUS, and his hair was pointed and well-managed. His eyes were as deep red as his hair, and his face concealed some hidden design unknowable to all.
"May you be moved to tell me of yourself, my guests. I am called Marcus, but who are you?"