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

OTA!

[ellrigaeta]

I. Ah, snow. Lorne is lucky to arrive just before the town is so heavily blanketed that the roads are impassable; otherwise he might not have been able to return home until spring, which would be several stripes of unfortunate. Still: he is home. With his primary order of business being introducing himself to the Watch captain for (hopefully) completing his transfer, Lorne joins those shoveling their way out of their houses. The streets are going to be a mess of slush and ice soon, not that anyone can do much about that but be careful of one's footing and try to clear as much as snow possible. For now, though, it's nice to see children taking advantage of the snow to spread some fun and laughter.

And snowballs. It's an eternal impulse, making and throwing snowballs, and adults are by no means fully immune to the charms of fluffy snow. Lorne is trudging along towards the Constabulary when a winter projectile smacks into his shoulder from behind and sprays his neck with a fine dusting of snowflakes. He jumps, only a little startled, and controls down a laugh in favor of turning, slowly, to give the children responsible an exaggerated glower. It comes complete with hunched shoulders. This produces a spate of giggles, perhaps nervous ones, until Lorne dips to gather snow himself. He does not, however, hurl the snowball back at the children just yet. Instead, he tosses it up and down, catching it again in that hand, and arches an eyebrow.

Were he not attending to business, he might engage in some volleys with them. His point is made well enough, anyway; they know he's 'armed' if they try to hit him unawares again, and Lorne treks onward with snowball in hand.

II. Lorne has had occasion to visit the village a few times over the years he's been living elsewhere, but that's hardly sufficient to keep up with all news. The tavern is the best place to reconnect with people and hear stories of what's been happening (although some recent events Lorne expects will not be welcome topics). Plus, there's minstrels who are trapped here, which means there's musical accompaniment to the revelry. Lorne isn't one to get drunk, but he's decent enough company for conversation even if he's more reserved than many people here. He's watching and listening, mostly, which suits him. He'll learn plenty just by observation.

You know, from the table at the edge of the room, or the far corner. He's prime pestering material

IV. Wildcard!

I.

[shepherddain]

It's so good to see the children in town haven't lost their sense of fun, given all that's happened recently. Dain happens across their game while he's working, and he watches them with a joyful smile -- until they take a bit of a risk involving someone else.

That angry glower has Dain straightening, ready to intervene if necessary, to make sure the children aren't punished for their fun. Hopefully, all he'll need to do is reassure them in the aftermath of a scolding, maybe even join in for a few minutes to make it clear they're safe, but -- as it turns out, he doesn't need to do anything. The man's expression is entirely opposite from his actions.

How interesting. Dain pauses for a moment, thinking; then he quietly gets the children's attention, whispers to them to try again when the man is distracted, and proceeds to move on ahead to be the distraction.

"Good afternoon!" he calls out, when he's only a handful of steps behind. "A fine day, isn't it? Forgive me, I just need to be sure you aren't planning anything nefarious with that snowball in your hand."

[ellrigaeta]

Lorne hears the crunching in the snow first, only turning when he's addressed. He's mildly surprised to see a Shepherd is the one questioning him on the snowball and very carefully does not show it; last he checked that wasn't something worth their attention. Unless he's about to get scolded for fake-glaring at children. If that's all it is, he ought to be able to respectfully disengage and be on his way.

All the same, that's a remarkably friendly greeting compared to his expectation of Shepherds.

"Good afternoon," Lorne replies, inclining his head. "Nothing nefarious, no. I like to be prepared for surprises." He hefts the snowball a little, gestures with it back towards where the children were. "More surprises," he amends wryly. "They hit me once already. I can't make it too easy on them if they want to try again."

[shepherddain]

The children aren't as subtle as they could be. Dain steps casually off to the side, just far enough to draw the man's gaze towards him, not far enough to be obvious. "Ah," he says, "I see. You're planning to deter your attackers with it. That's a noble thought. I imagine they'll need to come up with a very clever solution if they want to try again."

A snowball comes flying toward the man on his other side, aimed straight for his head.

"Such as," Dain says, smiling, "a distraction."

Never let it be said he doesn't use the sobriety expected of his role for the common good.

[ellrigaeta]

And it is that sobriety that catches Lorne off-guard enough that another errant snowball almost completely escapes his attention. Lorne spots movement out of the corner of his eye and only barely has time to turn and attempt to jerk out of the way. The snowball still lands, spraying his shoulder and the exposed skin on his face yet again, which is a step up to having it hit his ear.

...the Shepherd definitely distracted him to help the kids. This occurs belatedly, confusion registering over the fond resignation at being pelted with snowballs for the next little while, and he spares the man a faintly incredulous look. Surely if he's willing to assist in a snowball ambush, this Shepherd won't begrudge Lorne disbelief.

He'll have to examine that later; more snowballs are following the first, and since they've no longer the element of surprise the children have resorted to quantity over subtlety. There are more of them than Lorne, but he does have the boon of superior aim and arm strength on his side. Unlike them, however, he's not aiming for anyone's head. That would just be unfair of him. If there's a smile on his face, it's patient and one he's practiced at minimizing - Lorne has long been accustomed to the shenanigans of younger children.

[shepherddain]

By contrast, Dain smiles like he's never needed to practice subduing it. The children squeal in delight and manage to completely avoid anything that resembles teamwork as they dodge unsuccessfully and try to retaliate. There may be more of them, but it's pretty clear who's going to win.

Dain scoops up a handful of loose snow and packs it slowly between his hands. One of the reasons he's never enjoyed working with a partner is the obligation not to get involved in situations like this -- the dangerously stern look he'd receive, the penance he'd need to do later. None of that is on his mind now as he whistles innocently from his spot on the side of the snowball fight, rolling his own snow gently from one hand to the other.

"I'd offer to help," he says apologetically, "but it seems you're doing a little too well on your own. Really, it would be my duty to join in."

[ellrigaeta]

Lorne is willing to admit some surprise that he's actually winning by any measure, but he's got at least a decade and a half if not two on all of these children, and clearly a better grasp on strategy and leading aim. Running around isn't going to help Lorne much given the depth of the snow, either, so he largely stays put and manages to dodge or bat down most of what comes his way. Not everything; it's possible he lets a few more snowballs through his defense than if he were trying to get them all. The ones that won't hit his head, typically.

The Shepherd's 'innocent' whistling is anything but-- who ever whistles like that and is actually innocent, Lorne has to wonder. The accompanying statement only raises Lorne's suspicions that he's about to get a snowball to the face from a Shepherd but this runs up against his existing understanding of Shepherd behavior. This is likely the only reason Lorne does not immediately turn Dain's way to throw a pre-emptive snowball in his direction, and instead snaps his head back and forth between children and Shepherd several times while his worldview struggles to catch up to this new information.

[shepherddain]

Dain hesitates, worried for a moment that he's misjudged and put himself in a difficult situation -- cruel to drop the snowball, mean to throw the snowball.

But they are, after all, in the middle of a snowball fight.

He throws the snowball.

It's not aimed for Lorne's head, at least. It's more chest level. And from the way Dain's weight shifts in the aftermath, it's obvious he's expecting a return barrage, and equally obvious that he welcomes it.

[ellrigaeta]

The Shepherd throws the snowball and it whacks into Lorne's side. Now Lorne can assuage the warning bell in the back of his mind about the possibility of bringing unwelcome attention of the church. The Shepherd started it.

That's a spectacularly childish argument, he's aware. Lorne is an adult and can make better choices than any child. He's also getting snowballs lobbed at him on two fronts, and he is not nearly as good at throwing with his off-hand. This just got more complicated and not only due to the involvement of a person Lorne still can hardly believe is there.

All the same, it's only a few moments before one of Lorne's snowballs is sailing right back at Dain, aimed at his torso. He doesn't wait to see if it lands before scooping up more snow to toss at the children again. Today is going very weirdly.

[shepherddain]

It lands, alright. It sprays a spectacular shower of snow down Dain's front, and it makes him laugh, and scoop up some more snow from the ground.

This is not how he expected his day to go, either -- but it's a very, very welcome bit of joy.

The children, emboldened by all these recent successes, very quickly turn on Dain and each other, in the time-honoured tradition of every man for himself. It's not long before they're moving off, pushing each other into snow drifts, happily seeking some other bit of fun elsewhere, and Dain is left with snow all over his shoulders and hair, freezing cold and beaming warmth.

"Thank you," he says breathlessly. "I needed that. I hope we didn't take too much of your time?"

[ellrigaeta]

By the time the snowball fight devolves into a free-for-all and the children scamper off, Lorne is pretty well covered in snow, too. Obvious patches of it where snowballs landed cling to his cloak, warmed some by the exertion. His breath comes in quick puffs, fogging up in the cold air, and he's smiling more with his eyes than his mouth. Force of habit. The bemusement about the Shepherd hasn't gone away, either, but Lorne thinks he wouldn't be smiling like that if there were problems to come.

"Not at all. I'm not on a schedule," Lorne replies with a shake of his head, brushing snowflakes off of his clothing. There are definitely small trails of melted snow running down his neck. He should invest in a hat. Several questions are on the tip of his tongue, but he's still a bit uncertain about where the ground lays with this Shepherd. What is or is not appropriate has gone out the proverbial window. He trudges across the few feet of snow between them and holds out a gloved hand. "Lorne Ward. And... you're welcome, I suppose."

Beat. "I'm surprised that you..." Lorne trails off, gestures instead to the disturbed snow all around them to indicate the antics.

[shepherddain]

Dain's lost his hat, or at least the scarf he's been using as a hat, somewhere in the scuffle. No doubt it's buried in snow. He'll find it later.

"Johannes Dain," he replies in kind, shaking Lorne's hand. "I go by Dain, most days. It's a pleasure to meet you." He sounds like he means it, too, rather than simply following an introduction script; it's always a pleasure to meet someone who doesn't take themselves too seriously. Gods know he gets more than enough of that in Fairport.

"... that I what?" For a moment Dain looks utterly confused, following Lorne's gesture to the disturbed snow all around them. "That I lost my scarf? That's quite -- oh." Right. Of course. Maireglenne, Path of Light, penance, witchcraft. Several minutes of carefree fun in the snow had gone quite a ways in erasing Dain's memory. Back to the real world now; he straightens, loses the smile a little.

"Life is difficult enough without teaching children they're never allowed to enjoy themselves," he explains. "We usually try not to let our hair down, as it were, but... I admit, sometimes I can't pass up the opportunity."

[ellrigaeta]

The fact that Dain had gotten so caught up with the snowball fight not to think about his position, and that by comparison Lorne had been, says quite a lot about Dain. So too does the easy way he introduces himself. Lorne is a little bit regretful that he's reminded Dain to be more serious, though he's well familiar with the mantle of duty. Perhaps too familiar, seeing as he's barely cracked a real smile this whole time.

"That's a philosophy I can get behind. It's refreshing," Lorne says. For a Shepherd, he does not say. He's accustomed to dour and grim faces, not fun. Ever. But Lorne has witnessed the hardship children have experienced in this village and elsewhere, and people who are kind to children in an unkind world are worth paying attention to. "Shepherds usually keep their distance," he adds diplomatically. "And adults here are often so fed up with snow, year after year, that it's hard to take any enjoyment from it."

Speaking of hair being down, Lorne glances around for the missing scarf. "I imagine you didn't plan to be stuck here for the winter. Are you staying with the vicar for the time being?"

[shepherddain]

Dain's never been very good at keeping his distance, both for legitimate and for indefensible reasons. He doesn't say that out loud, though, even in a village so far away from everything else and choked by snow for six months out of the year. Even though it's just been about as obvious as it can be.

He does laugh about the latter part. "I certainly didn't," he admits. "Strictly speaking, I'm not meant to be away for so long, but there's nothing anyone can do. And yes, Father Normand was generous enough to offer me some room at the chapel." Dain pauses, studying Lorne, a man so ready to stoop to childish enjoyment, but without the ready smile that usually comes with such a penchant. "And you? You're clearly not so fed up with snow. Are you a seasonal traveller as well?"

[ellrigaeta]

The corner of Lorne's mouth twitches up, the barest suggestion of a smile. "No, I grew up here and started plenty of snowball fights when I was their age," he answers, a touch wry. "My father is the magistrate. I've been living in a nearby village for a number of years and decided it was time to come back home."

Ah - he catches a glimpse of cloth beneath some kicked-up snow and goes to retrieve what turns out to be Dain's scarf. He shakes it out a bit to get most of the snow off, but it's going to be wet and chilly and therefore basically useless for its intended purpose. "You'll probably be able to send word of your status with one of the messenger birds; there aren't many and they can't fly during storms, but it's better than nothing." Lorne holds the scarf out to Dain. "In the meantime, you may wish to go somewhere warm before you catch a cold. The tavern sometimes has hot cider."

There is the lilt of invitation in Lorne's tone without words actually getting involved. He's Officially Curious about this Shepherd but doesn't want to be nosy.

II.

[keenly]

As the night wears on, some people start dancing to the music. By some people, naturally, we mean a lot of women. Who are then upset that none of the men want to dance, because they need partners. It wasn't the mens' idea for everyone to get up and dance, but there you have it. The women start pulling men in against their will--lovers, brothers, fathers, friends, whoever is pliable enough. Colin is none of these, but he is also recognized as one of the most pliable men in town, so he gets pulled in. After the first dance, though, he glances about and peels away, walking up to Lorne.

"Come on," he says. "If I have to, so do you."

[ellrigaeta]

When the dancing gets underway, Lorne is initially too far off to the side to be easily pulled in. It probably helps that his default expression does not inspire one to confidence that he will agree to move anywhere, much less be persuaded to dancing. When Colin approaches him, however-- first he takes a moment to absorb the new look. Did he have the beard and mustache last time Lorne was here? He feels like he'd remember that, given how well it suits his foster sibling.

In any case, Lorne would have a hard time saying no to him for anything in the realm of reasonable. Muddling through dancing is hardly a serious trial.

"Must I?" This is light, amused, and Lorne is already getting on his feet. "That's hardly unassailable logic."

[keenly]

"It's nothing to do with logic," Colin says with some amusement. "It's to do with the hope that sharing humiliation might cut it in half."

Some of the more complex emotions and auras still elude Colin a bit, but whatever it is he's sensing from Lorne, he feels oddly flattered by it. At the very least, Lorne is glad to see him, and he is glad to see Lorne. Before they move to join the dancers, Colin gets out of the way what's necessary--a big hug.

"Welcome home."

[ellrigaeta]

"Here's hoping for half instead of double. I haven't had to dance in a long while," he says, laughter in his tone. Lorne returns the hug without reservation, clapping him warmly on the back. "It's good to be home, ridiculously early snow aside."

He releases Colin and makes only a cursory step or two towards the open space used for dancing. "You're looking well. Older," Lorne tells him, chafing a hand against his jaw to indicate Colin's beard. "Good choice. How's the bakery?"

[keenly]

Oh, that's what inspired that spark of admiration Colin sensed. His hand goes to his face automatically, and he beams at the compliment.

"It's good! I mean, everyone needs bread, so it's a pretty stable job. Except for the week everyone fasts. What are you doing these days?"

[ellrigaeta]

It's always nice to see Colin smiling like that, unreservedly, and an echoing smile tugs at Lorne's mouth.

"I'm glad to hear it all the same." Stability sometimes feels very hard to come by, which may explain in part why he's come back. "Ideally, I'll be serving in the Watch here after I pay the Captain a visit. I decided to move back home." A touch sheepishly: "I'd have sent a message but I wasn't certain I'd get here before the roads were impassable."

He has very few personal possessions, so it was a simple enough choice to pack everything up and leave. Dragging a wagon with him would almost certainly have slowed his pace and delayed his arrival for months.

[keenly]

A look of stunned surprise, then the gladdest smile yet.

"Really? You're back for good?"

[ellrigaeta]

"That's the plan," Lorne confirms, flashing him a grin. There's no way to anticipate exactly what the future might bring, but his every intention is to stay.

"Almost everything and everyone I care about is here except Camilla and Roland, and their families. When Pippa isn't off getting herself into trouble, that is." His expression is of resigned fondness and he shrugs lightly. "It made sense."

[keenly]

Camilla is someone Lorne cares about, which means Colin is as well. It's a nice realization.

"Between your long journey and the good news, are you up for dancing, or should we go to my house to celebrate? I don't know if you've eaten. And the food here's...I mean, it's food." But it's not like real home cooking.

[ellrigaeta]

Despite the myriad complications surrounding welcoming his foster siblings to the family (beyond even the rumors of magic), Colin and Camilla are family in Lorne's eyes. Blood isn't everything. Lorne resolves show that more often, where he can.

He considers the out Colin is giving him to escape dancing. "One dance, it's only fair of me," Lorne replies. "Then I'll gladly take you up on some of your cooking."