Echoed the mountains; "Nevermore". (Inv, ND)

I would like to start this story with a poetic piece about the birds in the trees, the moss covered rocks by the river. The ravine the scene is set in and the translucent river that flows directly down the middle, covered in shade from both sides by a light forest. However there is little serenity to be found in this sealed away paradise. Due to the rather loud ruckus being made by the riverside. The wildlife long since scared away, the leaves on the trees shook and fell as each thud resounded through the ravine. The water rippled, the fish had retreated further downriver to avoid the large, flying chunks of rock.

By the riverside, on the north end, stood a man, holding a rather unsuitable implement for what he was attempting. Which was obviously, trying to beat up a mountain. His sword thudded into the rock, sending a surprising amount of chips flying. Glancing off with a shower of sparks, and then hitting again, trying to gouge out what might seem like a cave to casual onlookers. Or mining for minerals rumoured to be hidden under the mountain range. A black kimono lay behind him, under several layers of rubble. However the man himself looked immaculate, his sword was undented. No sweat, dust or lint lay on his body, as though he had only just started or was some kind of ghost. However neither of these were true, he was simply impervious to all forms of stains, muck, dirt and liquids of fabric damaging form.

He had in fact, been here for hours. Honing his strength. You see, to this man, a mountain is the perfect foe. It does not move, it does not speak, it does not hear. Yet its defence is quite literally, rock solid. A careless move can leave you blind or worse. And it requires days of dedication and strength to defeat it. Constantly looming over you and reminding you who is better, who is stronger. But he was determined to defeat it, to finally claim the title of the mountain conqueror. The rumour had been going around that he had once been attacked by a mountain come to life. If only. But he lived in the hope that someone, somewhere could do so. And he was looking forward to that day.

But for now. He would make do with the mountain. Less a more enticing offer came along.