OPEN | this winter brings all the cold to the yard

[northcliffpass]

𝕒 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕒𝕝

surprise!

I. Snow!

A mere week after the grisly discovery in the Deep Forest and the subsequent dispersal of the eerie spectral visitors, all Northcliff Pass residents wake one exceptionally frigid morning to find themselves buried under several feet of snow. It is of the light and fluffy variety--at least for now--which provides no shortage of entertainment for the village children, and means one is less likely to throw one's back out while trying to shovel it clear of doorways and the streets.

That is your first order of business, as it happens: free yourselves from your wintry entrapment. Or don't, if you've got enough food and drink squirrelled away in your tiny peasant house that you don't need to venture out into the elements. The world is your cold, shitty, socially stratified oyster; ditch your responsibilities, sleep in.

II. Fete! at ye olde tavern

All Souls' Day came and went, and nobody can really be blamed for forgetting about it what with the ghosts and the gloomy business of seeing to the bodies. All that aside the Hammer and Spoke seems especially welcoming that first wintry night, once all the snow shovelling is finished and the streets are clear enough for foot traffic again; lit lanterns glow warmly outside the door, and from within come the sounds of joyful music. Fiddles, whistles, a drum, and plenty of laughter; it seems the snow has stranded a troupe of minstrels in the village, which means at least two or three nights of great fun for village residents.

In truth it will take more than a few nights of drunk mischief to lift the pall cast across the village after the previous month's discoveries, but maybe that's why so many people gravitate to the light and levity and warmth of a party. After such a close call with so much death, it's good to remind oneself that there's joy in the world, too.

III. Cramped Quarters

The nights might be filled with good company, food, and drink, but during the day the village has to contend with another frustration: the roads in and out of Northcliff Pass are closed until the snow melts.

This is a common experience--in late December, January, and February. Not so much in November, when farmers are preparing to take their surplus harvest and livestock down the mountain to Cliffside, or when caravans with schedules to keep to are preparing to head east towards Woodsedge. (The only road clear in that direction is guaranteed to take them past Turn--something no one wants to risk.) Even a few late-season pilgrims have found themselves stuck between Gods' Reach at the summit of the mountain, and the creature comforts of Cliffside below.

There's nothing to be done for it, of course, except to endure the unusually crowded streets, the lack of vacancies at the tavern, and the occasional herd of sheep or goats picketed in very odd places.

Comments

[beane]

"O-oh, um...very...very well then. I shall...await his arrival."

Each hesitation between words takes him haltingly back towards the door, and once the sentence is done, he nods politely, looks unsure, and leaves.

What a grump.

[pestler]

Stunned, Finian doesn't move, just holding his drink close to himself and watching her leave.
It's hard to take it personally, though-- he can tell when someone's simply going through something versus when he's done something wrong, and he makes a mental note not to test her on the matter.

[ferruginous]

Her mouth curves down to a frown as she continues staring at the chandler.

"That's not why I did it. How much?"

[ferruginous]

Her face remains impassive to his outburst, and it's hard to tell whether she really took notice of it. The way she continues without a change in tone seems to say: no, no she didn't.

"Then I know what to expect."

[ellrigaeta]

Around here most everyone knows him as his father's son, which isn't at all a bad thing, but Lorne is hoping he'll be able to leave his own mark now that he's older. Being away for a few years might help with that; he'll find out soon enough.

He huffs out a breath of amusement. "People saying you'll adjust to the cold is probably wishful thinking and a desire to get through winter faster. If you want to be practical, buy an extra layer or two of warm clothing if you have the coin for it."

Lorne inclines his head in acceptance - at least the invitation. As much as he has no particular reason to keep himself out of such a petty debt with a Shepherd, Colin and Camilla are on his mind. Good luck paying for him, Dain. "Sure; the tavern's the best place to pick up news even if there's no cider to be had. I haven't been home for some time," he elaborates, gesturing down the street and beginning to walk towards their destination.

[shepherddain]

"I have a newfound respect for people who choose to live here, then," Dain replies. "It's freezing, every day, and still they find the wherewithal to reassure visitors that everyone gets used to it in the end. That's some strength."

Hopefully there's a fire going as well as cider. Dain isn't wedded to the scarf, but he's wedded to the concept of not being cold anymore.

He knows the tavern's location well by now, standing tall on the side of town closest to Sands Creek. It doesn't take long for them to approach it, and it's warm enough inside that one can feel the difference the moment they cross the threshold. Dain gives Lorne that opportunity first, standing back to hold the door open, wide enough to enter but not so wide that warm air escapes out into the wintery street.

[engravitas]

"That's right." Ben lifts his mug to his mouth again, looking judgmentally out at the dancers. So long as we're clear.

[sampler]

As she reaches for her purse, he holds up a hand and shakes his head. "No no, it's a gift! In appreciation for your appreciation."

Anyone who looked at his work the way she did deserved to have her own piece of art. Plus maybe she'll want more, and those she could pay for. Or she could talk him up to other people and be free advertising!

Or maybe its just because they're pretty much friends at this point.

[ferruginous]

Fíadh stares in a look of absolute confusion, the abacus in her mind isn't quite adding up. Gift? Why a gift? She's done nothing to warrant a gift. She hasn't even managed to fix her damn grindstone yet to do something for him. Gifts are exchange for deeds not purchased, right? Appreciation isn't a worthy deed it just ... is.

" ... What do you want for it?"

Maybe if she continues on that line of questioning he'll start making sense.

[ferruginous]

Crystal. Probably.

Fíadh matches Ben's motion by taking a bite of her meal and following his gaze to the dancers. Yep sure are dancing. She's content to sit in companionable silence until whenever one of the two of them inevitably gives an Eirdhlish goodbye.

[beane]

His mouth gapes and waggles like a gasping fish while he very quickly backs down from his attempt at generosity and kindness, but his words are limited for a moment to abuhbuhumuh until he recovers.

"T-twelve. Th-that is, er, a-a shilling."

[ferruginous]

To her credit she watches silently as he fumbles for words and finally he speaks the ones she wants to hear. She slips a hand into her coinpurse and pulls out a shilling, handing it out for him as she takes hold of the candles in her other hand.

"Good."

[beane]

"I a-apologize if I caused offence," he says, sheepish. "It was not my intention."

He takes the shilling and, for lack of a till, pockets it.

[ferruginous]

She gives a noncommittal grunt before unwrapping the candles to appraise them. They do look very well-made, and she even detects a hint of some sort of flowery perfume. She re-wraps them, not nearly as neatly as they once were and looks up to Kendrick. She gives a sharp nod before briskly turning on her heel and walking to the door.

K, bye.

[beane]

All he manages is a very quiet thank you.

Byyyye.

[sampler]

Okay, one hand held up to pause didn't help. So he holds up both, palms towards her, and waves them, as if she's running towards a cliff and he's trying to stop her.

"Nothing. It's a gift. Truly."

[ferruginous]

"I don't-hmph-This isn't-"

Faro might have broken her brain with this because it just ... doesn't make sense. But she also realizes that she might just have to accept it. For now. And figure out a good way to pay him back. Even if he says he doesn't want it he probably does.

She runs the ribbon through her fingers again as she contemplates all this.

"Fine."