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Your character runs an inn for resting mountaineers. It’s a calm life, until they encounter a twist of fate.

Posted in Winter on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 47 stories

Just A Spoonful of Poison

Submitted to Contest #129

The year is 1496. The place is Rome, Italy. The snow-capped mountains in the distance are beautiful. The air is crisp with the promise of snowfall. Lucretia Borgia is sitting at a large table in the kitchen of the Vatican thinking about how to get rid of the rats.Her father, Pope Alexander VI, wants her to take a job as a cook at a nearby Inn. Lucretia, with her blonde hair and kind heart, is a cinch for getting the kitchen job.Meanwhile, the snow is falling softly at the Mountainside Inn near Rome. The kitchen is full of black smoke."What k...

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The Predicament

Submitted to Contest #129

The headlight from the giant locomotive illuminated ominously through the foggy abyss as dusk settled into darkness. The steam billowing out of the valves and the black smoke huffing out of the smokestack only contributed to its abstract, melancholy appearance. The shrill of the airbrakes synchronized with the low-pitch whine of the whistle. The clanging of the bell was the only optimistic percussion that this mechanical beast seemed to produce. The locomotive was grimy and exhausted from its long climb up the mountain, winding through too m...

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Mystery at Mount Snowpoke Inn

Submitted to Contest #129

Joe Westfield arrived at the inn at seven o’clock on the dot, as per his usual routine. He liked to make sure that his guests would have their coffee and their continental breakfast hot and ready by the time they got up that morning. The small kitchen, which consisted of little more than a fridge, a microwave and a stove, had already been stocked the night before, so all he had to do was carry the trays of pastries to the dining room, fetch the cups of butter and fruit jams from the fridge, and start up a vat of coffee and hot water for tea....

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A Miracle on the Mountain

Submitted to Contest #129

Frigid air from the cloud-covered peaks whispered down the Rocky Mountains, swirling around tree trunks like the ice-cold eddies circling river stones. Majestic Blue Spruce crowded the mountain face as they branched out from their sparsity near the tree line. The Respite Inn sat nestled in a cove, guarded by 90-foot Douglas Firs. In a world of her own, shrouded in the quiet beauty, Emma was content.           Emma sat by the fireplace, stilled by the silence at the end of the day. She in...

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The Stranger

Submitted to Contest #129

Icicles hung from the eaves of the chalet's sturdy roof like teeth in the maw of a snow-laden beast. The wind screamed banshee-like against the log and stone walls, hurling snow against the wood at an alarming speed. The whole building had the feeling of leaning in on itself, as though trying to hunker down against the onslaught of the blizzard. Indeed, this chalet had seen its fair share of storms--and so too had its keeper. Jasmine Skau was young, too young to be holed up alone, year after year, in her little pocket of heat and light thr...

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The Fire Below

Submitted to Contest #129

Renji sat on the terrace of the Kazan-Kan lodge, which was in a small clearing on the highest ledge of Mount Asama volcano that was still considered safe. Traces of snow which survived the afternoon clung on in the grass out front. At ease, he breathed deep and smelled the pines of the forest that sloped down to the far away towns visible in the valley below.It’s a four hour walk up from the nearest road and very peaceful this time of year. Few people were around, just the way he liked it.“The Kamoshika are sure to come today to look ar...

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Solara's Compromise

Submitted to Contest #129

Solara’s hands trembled not from the cold swirling around her, but from the icy stare, a strange man struck her with.“Solara, don’t be rude.”Her hands tightened around the washcloth and she returned to wiping the counter, hearing Trevan’s voice drift from somewhere behind her. Averting her gaze, she focused on wiping the residual drink condensation from the bar, gathering used napkins and dishes along the way before continuing into the dining area. At the last stand-alone table, Solara shivered at the chilly presence from earlier, knowing th...

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White

Submitted to Contest #129

The snow came down in large white clumps, so quickly that my my footprints were erased as fast as I made them trudging back to the cabin from the woodpile with an armload of logs. The satellite dish perched on my roof was buried in the winter’s snowfall and completely useless, but I didn’t need some fancy TV weatherman to tell me it was going to be a hell of a storm.The solar panels were likewise ineffective this time of year, so the television was nothing but a blank frame anyway. I had plenty of kerosene for my lamps, and the wood kept me ...

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The Last Night before Spring

Submitted to Contest #129

This day arrives each year, and, even though I am aware of how time works, each recursion knocks me off my feet. Sometimes it rains, occasionally it’s sunny (rarely), but most years it either snows heavily or deep frost swallows the world. It is late winter, after all; and, in the mountains, late winter is still hard winter. This year it’s snowing, and there is some mercy in that. My mind catches on each thick flake as it rushes to the ground, vying to outrun its brethren. Then another, and another, there’s no space between snowflakes for t...

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Grendel's Nest Chalet

Submitted to Contest #129

Grendel's Nest Chalet is an exclusive resort in the Bavarian Alps that is talked about in certain circles, but has never advertised in any of the travel journals and there is a reason for that. Named for the monster in Beowulf, there have been rumors about what is up there in the Bavarian Alps, so being a resourceful correspondent, I decided to have a look for myself.  What you are about to read is my account of that eventful weekend at Grendel's Nest Chalet.  “Welcome Herr Walter Shannon.” The concierge greeted me at the check ...

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The Reality of Our Inn

Submitted to Contest #129

I poured my husband a cup of coffee, the milk still steaming on the stove.  I’d grated fresh cinnamon and sprinkled brown sugar in the pot.  A special drink for a gloomy day.  The clouds hung low, touching the mountain a bit higher up.  The road was iced over, no matter how much salt we poured.  There was salt on the windows too, and lined along all the doorways.  Many people who visited the area later said they left it superstitious; the mountains could be an eerie place.  I sipped some of the black coffee...

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Bennbrig

Submitted to Contest #129

The Wolf’s Buckle Inn was not a luxurious resort, but it was successful. It was small, no more than 10 rooms. They were always full. Not with the rich rock climbing socialite crowd, with their platinum plated carabiners and four thousand dollar techno fabric fashion jackets, nor with the skiing crowd - there were no ski facilities. This inn was a haven for those who loved the land.  The man who had trekked the full Appalachian trail three times to raise funds for Virginia coal miners. The woman who had stayed at a base camp on Mt Wash...

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Dragons Breath Inn

Submitted to Contest #129

Snow bellowed through the cog shaped doorway, pushing itself around the outline of a short, stocky person, holding an axe over their shoulder, and clasping a satchel made from the fur of a Snow Strider in his other hand. The snow melted, then evaporated before it managed to find its way to the floor, this was usual for the dragon’s breath Inn, the rear wall of the inn was built into the side of a volcano after all. Keeping their patrons warm wasn’t a problem, the problem was trying to keep it cool enough to stop them from burning to a crisp....

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The Trouble with being too much alive.

Submitted to Contest #129

Initializing. . . 23% . . . 84% . . . 99% Setup Complete. It happened suddenly; without the slightest whisper of warning. It felt as if the world began to Shift. There wasn’t an earthquake shaking the mountain, or an avalanche crashing from the sky, or even a strong gale begging the building to sway. It was a glaring, imperceptible change; Not great, or terrible, but frighteningly, Wrong. In a daze, Wyndi steadied herself on the tavern bar, streaks of her long black hair falling over her eyes. She stared across the cozy room, her frazzl...

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Change Is Coming

Submitted to Contest #129

A single decision can change countless lives, and I was unkindly reminded of it. For nearly forty years, I’ve been quenching the thirsts of mountaineers visiting Jaffrey, to climb Mount Monadnock. During this time, I’ve learned the faces of most of them, even if they only pass through once every few years, but more surprising, they too greet me by name, as soon as they walk in. Like the legend of the wolves who used to dwell at the top of the mountain, it seems like I have become a local attraction. If it helps with drawing in the customers,...

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