OPEN | Blood And Ice

[northcliffpass]

Civil Blood

I. News from the West

The story of why gets twisted and distorted between its departure from the Crags and its arrival in Northcliff Pass, but the town criers maintain consistency on a few points: Althea of House Jessamy, Duchess of Black Rock, has at last thrown down the gauntlet against the Duke of Cliffside, and has called on her vassals to rally their bannermen. It seems there will be war within the borders of Maireglenne for the first time in a hundred years.

Given the state of the roads leading through the pass, it is understandable that the news is a few weeks’ stale by the time armed soldiers sporting Duke Galein’s colours march (or gallop, if they are astride a horse) past the village walls and garrison themselves on the festival grounds. Anyone objecting to this new arrangement is encouraged by the soldiers to bring their objections to the garrison commander (who, rumor has it, personally oversees the flogging of objectors himself).

Like it or not, the regiment is here to stay, at least until they receive orders instructing them otherwise. On the bright side, the soldiers did the hard work of clearing the pass for the season; travel between Northcliff Pass and the city of Cliffside just got a heck of a lot easier this winter.

II. Cold Snap

And it’s highly likely that those orders will be as delayed as the news, for the regiment has hardly been within the city walls a week before the temperatures plunge to dangerous lows. This is not the seasonal frigidity accompanied by blustery blizzards that encourage snowball fights and a bit of ice fishing down by Sands Creek, but a cold so biting and bitter that any prolonged period spent outside in it runs the very real risk of hypothermia and death. This is the kind of cold that leaves the air clean and clear, with nothing to impede the watery white light of the sun for the few hours it spends above the horizon each day before setting again; it cuts the lungs when inhaled and bites straight through to the bone. Many of the village’s poor are brought within the sturdy walls of the Town Hall and the chapel, because the alternative is finding them frozen solid in the streets.

The silver lining to this development is bare indeed; avoiding the cold means that, for a time at least, the village residents and soldiers are too preoccupied hunkering down to endure the cold to be at cross purposes.

III. A Howl in the Night

On the third night of the deep freeze, an animal’s piercing howl shatters the oppressive silence that has settled over the village.

It’s not a wolf’s howl; it is far too shrill and keening, and comes from a great distance away, that much is clear. The few villagers brave enough to risk exposure to the cold will find nothing of immediate danger within the city walls--but should they lift their eyes and look to the gossamer clouds near the summit of Gods’ Reach, they will glimpse the dark silhouette of a massive winged beast circling the mountaintop in search of a safe place to roost.

Comments

[shepherddain]

Thoughts of being in a rush, or of the necessary steps in stoking a fire back in the vicarage, or of procuring a hot drink, or of anything outside Tuo's hand-crafted Saaristomeren wagon, lose all purchase in Dain's mind for several quiet seconds.

For him, sense doesn't reassert itself with all the immediacy a struck match -- it seeps in much too slowly like water trickling through a crack in a dam.

"That would... be one way to warm up," he manages. Not the most efficient way. Blankets -- Alvi -- did that really happen, or is it the cold confusing his sense of reality? -- Tuo is still dangerously cold and there cannot be room in Dain's mind for anything else. He leaves Alvi to Tuo, because the bird is more likely not to struggle and hurt itself bundled in familiar arms, and Dain grabs what's left, draping the thickest portion of the furs over Tuo's shoulders on their way out.

A cold wind blows from the north as they leave. Dain shields them as best he can, holding Tuo close, as much to keep track of how hard he's shivering as to keep him warm. If there are other reasons, he'll... look more closely at them once they're out of the cold.

[shepherddain]

As far as Dain is concerned, puns are a much better topic of conversation, as are cats. He lights up with a smile, takes one of the stools, and listens to Detlef's introductions with rapt interest. He heeds the warning not to touch Mister Fingersnap -- just gives him a nod and a light wave, as though cats recognise the same sorts of body language humans do. "Nice to meet you, Mister Fingersnap. Don't worry, I'm not a permanent fixture. I'll be out of your hair soon."

He honestly, genuinely does not intend that to be a pun.

What Dain does do is put one hand down near the ground for Miss Pants to come and sniff, making soft clicking sounds with his tongue. He doesn't usually get the chance to make friends with animals, but he doesn't often get the chance to make friends with humans either, and he's pretty sure they operate on the same sort of don't-come-near-me-you're-a-scary-stranger logic.

"Moose?" he asks, amused, as Detlef rejoins him. "That's a big name to grow into."

[mysteriumtremendum]

Adhemar sees to the fire pragmatically; a precise gesture with one hand and a sapping of energy from the air, and the intensity of the flames lessen just enough that neither he nor the wine will be burned when he hangs the kettle over it. In short order the aromatic spices from the kettle waft upwards, pleasantly warm and familiar.

"...I will worry too much if you leave before day."

Abruptly he looks back at her, at the stubborn set of her jaw and her eyes as they follow him around her home. For a moment that's all he does, look back at her with an expression as inscrutable as hers is determined; he's not startled, precisely, but caught off-guard, and instinct keeps him unreadable when some part of him knows, truthfully, that he should not respond this way. Not to her, not anymore.

A pause as he gathers his thoughts. Then, "I never intended to worry you." It's approaching an apology, but not quite there yet; more out of ignorance that one might be required than a stubborn refusal to provide one.

[matkalainen]

Even having one the magpie's trust when he was hardly more than a fledgling, there is still only so much Tuo can do to calm the frightened bird's squawking and flapping as he tries to swaddle them both in protective layers of blankets. It was an easier thing to do before Dain showed up--before Tuo could hear his own pulse racing in his ears, quick as a bird's. Still, he manages eventually, and allows himself to be escorted out into the bitter cold with his face pressed into the side of Dain's neck, Alvi held securely to his chest.

(He tries valiantly not to think of his home, unattended and isolated, so near an encampment of hot-blooded soldiers.)

At some point, he forces himself to squint against the wind and glimpses the silhouette of the vicarage ahead of them in the dark. "Thank the Night," he says without thinking--oh irony of ironies, and quickens his pace to reach the promise of warmth.

[amaurosisfugax]

Though most of the vicarage is dark, its residents both temporary and permanent bedded down for the night, there is--perhaps absurdly--a single candle lantern burning outside the sanctuary door, defying Night and wind alike.

Similarly defiant is the person of the interim vicar, bundled to his blindfold and making his careful way to the chapel with firewood under one arm. Some helpful soul had strung guide cords between the buildings and while he doesn't strictly need them to find his way around, the footing's precarious in places and he's been saved from breaking his neck a time or two by having a rope to clutch at.

Pure happy coincidence, really, that he's just barely in earshot of Tuo's exclamation. ...And that the really stupid (but warm!) hat he's wearing muffles it almost to inaudibility. "Someone there?" Ver calls out, freeing a hand to push the hat off his ears. ...oh, gods, that was a mistake.

[shepherddain]

Dain tenses with Tuo's words, no matter how much he shares in the sentiment -- and then tenses even further when those words are answered, and by the last person he can claim any sort of ignorance to.

In his experience, the best reaction is no reaction at all. Act as if there's no secret to uncover, and most people will question their own senses.

"Vervain," he calls out, "it's Dain. I'm glad you're here, I have someone in dire need of the warmth inside. Are you able to get the door?"

[matkalainen]

"Vervain?" That name is enough to chase some of the haze of fatigue from his thoughts. Tuo lifts his head and frees one of his hands from the protective layer of blankets and shields his eyes from the wind, looking through the dark towards the priest. hello frend c:

[amaurosisfugax]

Despite wind and weather and freezing ears, Vervain notably brightens to hear his name in Tuo's voice. "Tuo!" hi buddy!!

...Then what Dain's said catches up with him. "--oh, Earth bless us, yes; please bring him in--" He hastens for the chapel door faster than is really safe; but the gods loving fools as they do, he manages not to bite it. He drops the firewood unceremoniously in the general direction of "away from the door" so he can apply both hands and a shoulder to the task, not so much because of the wind but because, well.

There's at least one sleeping body on the other side of it, who grumbles and moves over when stuck in the ribs. "Sorry, Fredo, but we've got one more for the night, if you'll just roll out of the way--there's a good man..."

[shepherddain]

They know each other; that's a surprise. Not a bad surprise, given what Dain knows of the other two, but unexpected enough that he stumbles a little as he and Tuo make their way towards Vervain and the door.

Perhaps he'll wait to ask until they're all settled.

Once inside, the warmth is palpable, driven by a strategic fire and the body heat of everyone sleeping in various spots around the room. Even so, Dain doesn't try to remove any of the blankets Tuo's bundled in while he guides them over to some spare room in the far corner, stepping carefully over bodies where it can't be avoided. When they're there, he spares Vervain a grateful smile. "Thank you."

[infinitewatch]

Lance's shoulders stiffen when the Magistrate chimes in, but when it's clear enough there's no ill will between them, he just looks away sheepishly. This is why he never tells jokes.

"You've got a point," he murmurs to Lorne, "might as well have them earn their keep."

[infinitewatch]

He jolts away from her when she smacks him, startled into paying more attention, but it only results in a deeper scowl than before.
Shaking his head, he grunts at her and picks up the pace when asked for his opinion. As far as Lance is concerned, he's already given it.

[infinitewatch]

Cats cannot be blamed for anything, and that is Known.

"I'll keep an eye out," Lance mumbles, giving a little nod. Cat or no, he understands well enough the dangers of any animal being out in this kind of weather.

[engravitas]

"No," comes a hasty whisper, and thin fingers tugging on the back of Kit's undershirt.
"Stay with me."

[strumpeting]

Elena shrugs off his silence, she knows she's right. And picks up her pace as well. She's not letting him go that easily.

"Lance, honestly, no wonder you're wound so tight! It's so much work and duty and walking," certainly not the fault of pesky bards! "You need to let go and have fun! Drink! Be merry! Lance, Lance ..."

She suddenly grabs one of his hands in both of hers, staring up at him with eyes full of genuine concern .

"... When was the last time you've greened your trousers?"

[infinitewatch]

A man of seemingly infinite patience, Lance does still have a fuse, and Elena's just about to the end of it. Startled by her motion, he rips his hand away from hers and takes a step back, regarding Elena with the same unmistakably warning gaze that one might expect to see on a cornered dog about to go for the jugular; on the quiet watchman, there's something deeply unsettling about it.

[strumpeting]

Now, Elena is an absolute idiot and no one will ever dispute that. But she's managed to stay alive this long by still having some small sense of preservation occasionally screaming in that skull of hers. And while she doesn't understand the primal fury reflected in Lance's gaze, something deeply instinctual brings her pause. Still, she doesn't exactly look perturbed as she raises her hands in a conceding gesture.

"All right, all right, I'll take that as a while and leave it at that." For now. "But really, do yourself a favor. When you're done with your patrol do something that gives you some sort of self-joy. Even if it's just an extra minute by the fire or ... I don't know, having a little more of your favorite soup? Whatever dull men like you enjoy. But really enjoy it!"

[ferruginous]

Fíadh allows Pippa to shrug off her coat and takes the time to shove aside a table for more room. She then motions Pippa to stand in the middle of the space.

"Imagine I am about to come at you. What stance do you take? Don't overthink it, just do it."

I

[strumpeting]

During Elena's dalliances with the soldiers she's of course noticed the watch keeping an eye on the unwelcome visitors, but it's always been the usual faces she's recognized. So it's a bit of a surprise when, leaving a tent with lute in hand and a few coins heavier, she spots a particularly tasty looking snack. Shit, snack? No, this man could be a whole fecking meal. And he's not a soldier, he's not wearing a uniform, so he must be of the watch. How absolutely fascinating ... no one told her there was a new guard. And she's always so keen on getting to know the local law enforcement!

Elena briskly makes her way to Lorne before plopping herself in his path and flashing her most charming smile. Or most devious? Honestly they really look the same.

"Hello, there! You know, I don't think we've met. Elena Bevans, musician extraordinaire, at your service."

[infinitewatch]

As he watches her speak, it's more with the air of someone who's prepared to have to fight than someone being given unwanted advice. But as his heart rate slows back down and clarity begins to return to his head, Lance realizes he's probably better off putting more distance between himself and Elena.

She's still talking when he turns to walk away again, with unusual haste.

[ragweed]

Physics is working against him, and when Ben grabs his undershirt, Kit drops back down onto the mattress. He doesn't try to get up again but does wave a hand at the steps down to the ground floor. "Let me at least look out the window?"

[wardsdottir]

"A stance? Um--" Pippa frowns a little, bemused, then frowns again, this time more determined. No, don't overthink it, just do it.

She brings up both fists in front of her chest and shifts her feet so that one foot is slightly ahead of her body, the other behind. She looks a bit like an amateur boxer, standing like that, but Fíadh had told her not to think. Uncertainly, she looks to Fíadh for her feedback, eyebrows raised as though to ask like this?

[bythegrace]

It is not an apology but, then again, she didn't ask for one. She watches him without any consideration that it might be unnerving or rude to watch someone so hawkishly in her own home. If he minds, it doesn't show on his face. She considers keeping the conversation light, or as light as anything can be in this world, but discussing weather or wine is not generally her forte.

The kettle begins to steam, the white wisps rise and curl against the ceiling, and she nods her head at the fire.

"It should be done," she tells him and, without fanfare, immediately follows it with: "Did you already hear about the soldiers?"

[matkalainen]

The spare room is probably the vestry--or the vicar's office--and as such it is fastidiously neat and tidy. Or it was, before a shepherd, a heretic puppeteer, and a priest walked into it with a stressed magpie. The bird announces itself with a series of sharp squawks that no doubt rouse anyone not yet awake in the sanctuary, and manages to wriggle free of Tuo's arms. With a few flaps of its wings that scatter feathers all across the vicar's desk, Alvi flits directly up to one of the support beams that crosses beneath the ceiling and settles there, turning to glower down at the three humans below him--especially his person, what a betrayal--with reproachful corvid eyes.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Tuo snaps at him in a whisper, picking a few errant feathers out of the hair tugged free of his scarf by the wind. "Better a brisk walk here in the cold than our freezing to death overnight. Pardon his manners," this said to both Dain and Vervain with an artless gesture. "He would be appreciative, if he could understand."

[ellrigaeta]

Lorne has, by now, seen Elena among the soldiers with some frequency, but his concern has been them more than her. That smile makes him wonder if he should keep closer watch in the future, for one reason or another.

He offers a slight bow, keeps his expression neutral save mild curiosity. "Lorne Ward, watchman. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Bevans. I've seen you playing at the tavern, I believe. You're quite talented. Have you been in Northcliff Pass long?" He's going to ignore the mention of services for now.

[mysteriumtremendum]

At her instruction he turns away from her scrutinizing stare and removes the kettle from the heat, fetches two mugs, and pours the mulled wine into both of them. He doesn't spill a drop, not even when she mentions the heavily armed contingent of soldiers now garrisoned within the parish's walls.

"I heard about the fighting near the border," he replies, then walks carefully over to Johanna and offers one of the mugs out to her. "I didn't realize whatever petty game the lords are playing would bring an army into the village."