The Grand Climb.

By Alex Ring

Chapter 1: Let’s get started!

Of all the cursed mountains in all the world, the towering visage that is Frog Mountain is by far the closest to my village. Apparently, there are hundreds of the things, most shaped like sitting animals or pierced weapons or whatever, but I only care about Frog Mountain. For as long as I can remember I have been a climber, whether it be trees, hills, or bigger tree and hills, I always find myself at the top of them. All that exercise has made me the strongest guy in my village at the ripe age fourteen, and I think it is time I face a real challenge. I had been prepping for Frog Mountain for like half a year, and I learned a whole lot about the place from Gramps. He’s this old hermit guy who failed to conquer the mountain with his brother, and unfortunately, he was the only one who came back. When I asked him to teach me about Frog Mountain, the old fart nearly bit my head off!

“It’s a damn death trap!” he shouted, “no human could survive that place, especially not a dumb brat like you.” That slimy geezer was surprisingly tough, it took me months of fighting, arguing, and even doing his gross chores before he would settle down. Eventually Gramps did tell me about his climb, although it was probably only to scare me off with how morbid the story was. However, I can’t afford to be afraid of some creepy monsters ‘cause there was something at the peak of Frog Mountain that I needed to have. And I planned to get it the next day!

Chapter 2: Frog Butt

            I woke up early so I could avoid any hassle, making sure I didn’t wake Gramps. The last thing I needed was other people keeping me from doing what I gotta. I dressed in a green raincoat, brown jeans, and sturdy gloves and boots. I stuffed my backpack with food, water, matches, repellent, dynamite, etc. But I kept my most prized possession on my hip, my trusty, handmade, grappling hook: Hooker!

“Oh wait,” I whispered to no one as I packed it, “Joel told me not to call it that, ah whatever.” I left Gramps’ hut and snuck my way through the village, a humble farming town that you would not find on any map. The side of Frog Mountain was still blocking the morning sun from the crops, which is why none of the farmers were awake. But it was eerily quiet regardless. The optimal path for me up Frog Mountain was to circle round and climb the colossal butt of the beast, hike up its dense back, and finally climb up whichever frog eye was the tallest to reach the peak. After a half hour march, I made it to the butt-shaped start of my journey! Only to be met by an angry mob.

 “You little shit, I can’t believe you’re actually doing this!” yelled Chief Joel. “We’ve all told you a thousand times you can’t climb Frog Mountain but here you are still!” Behind the muscular Joel stood every able-bodied adult villager, holding gardening tools as weapons. To the left of the mob were all the kids and elderly huddled together in a sad corner, and to the far, far right was Gramps, his whole body covered by his large shawl. He had obviously tipped everyone else off.

 “Come on guys let us not get violent.” I cheerily told them all. “What is the big deal anyways?”

“The ‘big deal’ is that your breaking village law!” Joel shouted angrily, “Clear grounds for banishment. So, we’re here to cut-to-the-chase and arrest you, and maybe break your legs so you’ll never try this shit again!” At this I let out a heavy sigh, and slowly walked towards the chief with my head down. “Finally come to your senses, huh?” Joel pompously asked. Once I got close enough, I jumped up and kicked off his face to springboard into the angry mob, knocking them out one-by-one. With everyone down for the count I quickly ran past the mountain boundary and used Hooky to pull myself onto the butt. I could see Joel starting to stir, a dazed look on his face. But before he could reach me, he was stopped by an impressive scream. “Don’t go any further!” a frantic Gramps yelled from beneath the shadows. “You see that black line on the ground? If you cross that threshold, you cannot turn back until you reach the peak. Otherwise you end up like this.” I assumed Gramps then removed his hood to reveal the body of a short, anthropomorphic frog. I was having too much fun climbing to turn around, but soon after I heard the adults swearing at me in sadness, the little kids crying for me to come back, and the elderly giving mournful prayers for my safe return. And before I left earshot, I could have sworn I heard Gramps say, “Good luck Pea, good luck.”

Chapter 3: The Bog

            After an hour of some awesome rock climbing, I had finally reached Frog Mountain’s sloping back. Ahead of me was a vast forest, with the twin peaks of the frog’s eyes peeking above. “Welp, best get moving!” I said out loud. The bizarre thing about Frog Mountain is that the soil up there is ridiculously absorbent. The ground holds water so well that despite having many inclines, the mountain is almost completely swamp land. And the first thing I noticed once I entered that swamp was just how many bugs there were! Flies, mosquitos, crickets, it was practically a cloud of pests. “Of course, that’s no problem for the countless frogs thrive here, for them I bet it’s buffet paradise.” As I said this, all the bugs I conveniently forgot about flew into my mouth. “Alright, how do you little guys like this?!”

I coughed as I reached into my bag to pull out some Fung grass torches and match box. Smoke from Fung grass has been used as a repellent in the village for generations. Once lit, the bugs stayed as far from me as possible. “That’ll make things easier,” I said to no one, “now back to adventure.” Continuing up past moist foliage, large lily pads, and predator less frogs, I began to get tired. “Of course, climbing up through a bog would be exhausting.” I panted in fatigue. But as soon as I began to keel over, I noticed something that made me stand on end in surprised shock: Blights Parrow. It was just as Gramps described it, purple and black spiked mounds of what was probably, hopefully some sort of moss. Blights Parrow supposedly only grows on cursed mountains, and once touched, causes a countless variety of afflictions. This was the stuff that killed one of Gramps’s brothers, he touched one and broke out in a bunch of massive warts. “Don’t worry Gramps,” I said, “that won’t happen to me.” I tapped the part my backpack that held the Med-spring waters in it, a prize I earned from a traveling merchant after I saved him from quicksand. Supposedly it can cure the effects of Blights Parrow, so I brought not only my bottle, but the one Gramps bought as well. After this quick rest, I picked myself up and continued my climb. “I better hurry, the sun will set before I know it,” I said to no one.

Chapter 4: Wart Rock

I had been climbing for about twenty-eight hours, and it had become too dark to go climb further. With my limited calculations, I placed myself a little over halfway to Frog Mountain’s peak. I made amazing time! Gramps and his brothers barely came this far, which just proved my superior strength. Feeling pleased with myself, I set up camp atop a large round bolder. All I needed was a small fire and an over-hang tent, to keep the rain out. It rains way too frequently on and only on Frog Mountain. It was a damn miracle it hadn’t done so before then. Something made me too nervous to sleep, so I ate my dinner and surveyed the area from beneath the tarp. All I heard was the pounding of the rain, and my crackling fire, until I heard shrill growl from my left. The noise came from a pair of glowing yellow eyes that slowly, very steadily approached me, until it revealed what it was under my dull campfire. It took the form of a human-sized frog with strange markings horrid injures allover it’s body. It looked above everything else like a corpse, with exposed bone, torn skin, and a stench so disgusting it blurred my vision. It was a Guardian, the transformed body of someone who dies on a cursed mountain, forced to spend eternity protecting the peak of their mountain by killing all trespassers.

“Oh fu-” but before I could even finish my distraught profanity, the Guardian had already leapt up and planted its fangs into my arm. On instinct, I grabbed Hooky from my belt, plunged it into the Guardian’s eye, and tried to pull the creature off me from its socket. It let out a muffled scream, but refused to let go of my arm, instead using its limbs to wrestle and strike me off the rock. It was a harsh struggle, I clawed at its back, then stomach, then joints, but nothing seemed to work. But I eventually got the creature off me by slashing its jaw muscles and kicking it away through shear will power. The Guardian had trouble moving after all that, and I wasn’t in my best shape either. However, looking out from my ruined camp site, I noticed several more yellow eyes drawing ever closer. Before I knew it, seven Guardians had surrounded my little Wart Rock, and the one I fought was starting to get up as well.

“Hey, is this everyone?” I jovially asked over my exhaustion, “Do any of you know a guy named Gram- err I mean uhm, Abraham Sprout?” No response, not even from the one covered in warts or the one missing his throat. “Eh, it was worth a shot,” I added. Immediately I grabbed one of the still burning branches from my fire and stuffed it in my backpack, right before the Guardians charged me. I punched away the one blocking my path up the mountain and jumped off the boulder, leaving the other Guardians to bite my pack until the fire found its way to the dynamite.

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

A massive explosion flung me away from the horde, and when I landed, I ran up Frog Mountain as fast as I could before they could orient themselves. But I knew that wouldn’t stop them for long. From then on, I knew I had sprint to the peak, or that would be the end of me.

Chapter 5: CHASE

            The storm was picking up fast, and the Guardians had all shaken off their injuries and were hot on my tail. I couldn’t outrun them wading through swampy soil, so I had to take the high road. My masterful control over Hooky has been described my fellow villagers as “unnaturally amazing,” I can yank myself towards any good grapple point. So, using my awesome skills, I attached myself to the nearest tree, pulled myself up to the highest branches, and swung from tree to tree at staggering speeds. But while I did pick up my pace, it was way more dangerous, as the storm made branches slippery, the wind threatened to blow me down, and my best visibility came from the occasional lightning. But I kept jumping, and I kept swing, and I kept going and going and going. It was a grueling ordeal, mentally as well as physically, but at least I didn’t have to worry about dehydration. I kept jumping for what felt like an hour, and though it didn’t feel like it I must have slowed down. Because as soon as I hit my next grapple point, I felt something grab my boot. It was the tongue of one of the Guardian horde, who had apparently copied my canopy strategy, and to greater success as well.

I was able to take that boot off midair, and guessing they would try that tactic again, I cut up the rest of my clothes so they would similarly fall off when grabbed. So not only did I have to pay attention to where I was going, already a mental strain, but now I had to dodge the attacks from the Guardians biting my heels! But I did it all anyways, I bounded from branch to branch and tree to tree and lost my glove then had to move faster then swung and dodged then dodged and swung then lost my other boot then jumped and leapt then lost my coat then had to move faster. I could no longer keep track of time, I could barely think, I had no idea how much further I had to go, my body felt heavier and heavier, I was starving, I hadn’t slept in who knows how long, and my movements were getting sloppy. Unfortunately, I was saved from unconsciousness by eight cold tongues sticking to my skin. I was screwed. I had only one idea left.

Hooky was made when was still only five. It was a joint venture of the village black smith, the old folks, and me. Hooky is a three-pronged steel claw hook with a twenty-foot amp-fiber rope. Not like I know what any of that means, but apparently it makes Hooky strong enough to withstand anything!

With the Guardians quickly pulling themselves toward my flesh, I leapt up from the trees as hard as I could and flung Hooky into the open sky. I never wanted to use this last resort, but my plan worked perfectly as we were all struck by lightning! While it hurt like hell, at least I didn’t burst to smithereens like my amphibious ride-alongs. Plus, the shock gave me just enough energy to realize I was right between the twin peaks of Frog Mountains eyes, at least before I passed out. When I woke up, not much time had passed, the Guardians were still putting themselves back together and the storm was dying down. I was on the ground, and right in between the eyes. Everything was finally looking Pea! Until I realized I was lying in Blights Parrow.

Chapter 6: The Peak of Frog Mountain

            This was bad, really bad. I traveled so far only to be infected with Blights Parrow, and with no Med-spring water to boot. But unlike Gramps’ brother, I didn’t turn into warts, instead I was infected with a hallucinogenic poison. I got dizzy, colors and shapes deformed my vision, and I started seeing doubles of everything, including the twin peaks. I already only had enough energy to climb one peak and hope to get lucky, but now I had to decide between several bogus peaks. I almost gave up at that point, but seeing the destination of my journey, which ever it was, reminded me what was waiting for me there. So, I gored my thigh with Hooky to regain some composure and made my way to the peak that sorta looked taller. As I trudged my way to the base of the eye my hallucinations got worse, rainbow blobs of everyone jeered and taunted me, glad that I would die. I kept going. The eye was steep, and the poison made it hard to climb. I kept going. I coughed blood on the moist rocks as I neared the peak, bleeding from my other injuries as well. I kept going, and when I finally reached the flatter top of the peak, I could see nothing.

“I hope this is the right eye,” I muttered as I hopelessly limped forward. As I began to collapse, I could hear the Guardians briskly closing in, I gave them plenty recovery time.

“I never. Got. to have my…” I tripped on a platform and fell unconscious.

“Congratulations, Pea,” called a baritone voice which snapped me awake. Before me floated, a shimmering, transparent frog reminiscent of a constellation. The both of us where surrounded by a pillar of light warded off the Guardians.

“You seem to have barely made it,” the thing said.

“Wh-who are you?”

“The spirit of Frog Mountain, of course. I’m here to give you your reward.” The light converged to form a frog tattoo on my hand, and I instinctually knew what I had gotten and how to use it.

“The Frog Leap?” I said regaining my strength. “Cool! I didn’t know I would get powers!”

“Huh? Wait, what do you mean you didn’t know? Why did you climb me if not for that!?” Responding the spirit, I used my new power to bound high into the sky, and then, I achieved the reason I climb: the view from the top. The stunning sun rise breaking through the storm clouds, the lush forest I called home, distant cities I’ve only heard about, and just barely peaking above the horizon, beyond the stunning ocean, thousands of miles away, was the impossible peak of God Mountain’s finger.

“Wow!” I yelled. “I wanna climb that next!”

In a sign of excited flabbergast, the spirit could only say, “Dang, your one strange girl Pea.” Unfortunately, I miscalculated my trajectory, and I plummeted aaaaaaaaalllll the way off Frog Mountain. This reminded me what awful shape I was, but I was able to use my power to break my fall before passing out.

 I woke up submerged in a tub full of Med-water, with the whole village crowded around me, crying their eyes. They cried things like “I missed you so much!” and “never worry us like that again!” It made me start tearing.

“It good to be back, everyone!”