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

[bythegrace]

He is careful and precise and very tidy. Johanna is few of these things but she appreciates them in others and has a very slightly amused lilt to her expression as she extends a hand beyond her blanket wrap and takes the mug. She takes a sip of the spiced wine and makes a flat sort of sound in her throat, one that is neither a disagreement nor an agreement, merely acknowledgement.

"One can hope it is petty, they will be gone quickly then," she says and lets the mug steam before her, unwilling to set it on the table while she waits for it to cool.

"They are loud, grating, and surly--fortunately my house must look like a mill to them, I haven't had a soul come to bother me. Apart from you."

[amaurosisfugax]

Before Ver can reply to the thanks--before he can demure, really; it's only his duty after all to see everyone in and safe and sheltered from the cold--he's interrupted by Alvi's dramatic escape. That it's wreaked total disorder on the vicar's office would probably have escaped the young priest's notice if a feather hadn't ended up in his open mouth. He sputters and paws it from his face with a laugh and a half-despairing "oh, no".

"That's done it for having everything tidy when the vicar returns," he pronounces, without even the least bit of recrimination. "But all's forgiven; I'm as glad neither of you've frozen solid. And if it would be any consolation to him, I've got some wormy acorns with his name on them back in the stores. What do you say?"

That last's addressed to the ceiling, even if it's with no reason to believe he'd be understood by magpie; being good with animals is all in the tone, and...well, approaching them at the right time, which now isn't. Still, having made mention of the treat he'll definitely go get it once all's said and done; not any other use for spoiled nuts but to give them to the birds anyhow.

But that's for later. Recollecting that he's been thanked, Vervain returns his attention to the human occupants of the room with a pleasant smile for the direction he's facing. Maybe sort of Dainward. "Of course, shepherd! Can't leave anyone out to freeze in the cold. Nothing's the matter with your wagon, is it, Tuo?"

[ferruginous]

It's not a bad start, actually, Pippa's got good instincts. Fíadh shifts Pippa's elbows slightly inward and kicks her feet to a good shoulder-width distance. There, looks better.

"Throw a few punches."

[strumpeting]

Again Elena sees someone practically running from her. Why? Because she speaks the truth? Well, let him stew on it then! Still she calls out to him.

"Fun isn't a four letter word, Lance!" Wait ... it's not right? Elena counts on her fingers as she thinks, making it to ... five fingers. Well, five still isn't four! "It won't kill you!"

[strumpeting]

Elena was outside stumbling from the tavern to ... somewhere else when she heard the roar. Well, intimidating screech. And in her drunken haze she stopped a moment outside the chapel to consider what it could be, which is where she now stands as the door creaks open. She catches sight of a rather pale person and ... is that Finn behind him?

"Hey, did you hear that shite?" She yells at the pair of them.

[strumpeting]

He thinks she's talented. Well, yeah, of course she is, but hearing it on the lips of an attractive man is always a good feeling. Her smile grows wider, and while it's meant to be pleasing it likely would cause something more like concern to a smart individual.

"Lorne, that's a strong name. I'm sorry I haven't seemed to notice you in the tavern, though, sometimes I just get so lost in the music."

That or stoned and drunk out of her mind. She purses her lips as she thinks over her time here.

"A few weeks I think, maybe longer. But time flies when you're having so much fun! This is the longest I've stayed in one town for a while."

Or hasn't been kicked out. The snow probably has a lot to do with that.

"Wait, Ward, Ward ... are you related to the Magistrate?"

II.

[beane]

Perhaps too kindly, too beautiful, too wonderful, and too undeserving of this, but also too polite, for Beane has not yet evicted his melodious squatter.

To say that he tried would be an understatement, as well, since he neither raised his voice nor used any words harsher than please, Miss Elena, surely the patrons at the Inn would appreciate your talent more, and Elena, I do not wish to be rude but I prefer to work in peace.

But, inevitably, the longer she's there, the more he finds himself tapping his foot along with the rhythm, or quietly humming along as he goes through the motions of candlemaking. Dip, drip, hang. Dip, drip, hang. Or something like that.

That he's able to keep working on filling out his stock speaks to how much business she's drummed up.

[strumpeting]

At the moment Elena's feet are set up on the edge of Kendrick's worktable while she's playing a rather simple tune, just variations on a theme. She seems lost in thought, her eyes observing far beyond the confines of the ceiling. In a thoughtful voice, she speaks.

"Ken, do you think there are people among us, maybe in this very town, that are secretly lizards cloaked as humans?"

[beane]

At first he doesn't quite register the question and just offers a thoughtful hum by way of acknowledgment, but then he does a double-take and boggles at her for a moment.

"I--I beg your pardon?"

[strumpeting]

Her playing doesn't falter, her gaze doesn't shift as she continues talking.

"Do you think they skin humans and wear them like clothes or that they can change how they look? Would that count as the vice? Ken, do you think animals can have the vice?"

[beane]

Beane's eyes get very round at the prospect of these questions, then he blinks rapidly.

"N...No, animals cannot have the Vice," he says, with all the confidence of a child repeating things his parents told him. "I...believe, because they do not share the same...weakness of character that man falls prey to."

[pestler]

Wincing when Elena's voice cuts through the quiet they're trying to maintain, Finian beckons her over.
"It sounded like a big hawk," he opines, "--oh gods, you're sauced." He can smell her from here.

[engravitas]

Ben has to consider it, but after several long moments, he nods silently and allows Kit to get up. ONLY to check the window. No funny business.

[shepherddain]

Are magpies meant to lose that many feathers? Tuo doesn't seem concerned, so it's likely everything's alright -- minus the mess, but that consideration takes a backseat in Dain's mind. Unless the vicar returns first thing in the morning, there'll be time enough for him to clean up that desk.

He makes a slow start to it now, gathering up those feathers within easy reach, keeping a wary eye skyward where Alvi sits pouting, and leaving Tuo and Vervain to their questions.

[strumpeting]

Elena's eyes suddenly snap into focus and she slaps her heels to the ground. She looks over to Kendrick with a furrowed brow.

"Nah, that's shite. I once saw a ram headbutt another ram off a cliff before getting frisky with the sheep in the herd. Now, I wouldn't call that 'weakness of character' but I'm sure the church would."

[beane]

The suddenness of Elena's shift in attitude is more than enough to make Kendrick flinch, which sends a few hot flecks of wax onto his hands and he has to fumble to get the candles he'd just dipped onto the drying rack and shake the wax free of his skin before he can address her.

"Th-that's not--the church wouldn't--" He takes a deep breath and starts over. "The ram, you see, is motivated by the natural instinct to create offspring for the good of the herd. It hasn't the concept o-of propriety, or custom. S-so what you witnessed was not weakness of character, no, it was...natural."

[ellrigaeta]

Lorne tends to stick to the periphery for a reason when he's at the tavern. Elena had always been thoroughly engaged in one thing or another the few times he's spotted her there, so he's not surprised. To the last he gives a slow nod. Her smile is-- possibly worrisome. He makes a note to be conscientious about what he says around her, just until he has a better grasp of her personality.

"Yes, he's my father. I grew up here, but I've been away for some years working in a nearby town," Lorne explains. "I moved back just before the pass closed with the snow." He pauses, glances towards the tent she emerged from. She looked cheerful enough, but he can't help asking: "Have they treated you poorly at all?"

[strumpeting]

"Oh, so when a ram does it it's natural but if I do it's a social disturbance and a crime and I get thrown in the stocks for two days."

She gives a scoff before considers for a minute, realizing that sounds worse than it is.

"Although I didn't toss him off a cliff I knocked him into a river where he almost drowned. But only almost! And besides that lass was already lifting her skirts to me willingly, happily! How was I supposed to know it was her husband? Clearly he wasn't giving her what she needed if anything I was doing a community service!"

[strumpeting]

"Aaah, well you came back at a good time didn't you?"

What does that mean? What time? Shit, who knows.

"Poorly?" Her malicious grin vanishes as a look of surprise crosses her face. "No! Absolutely not! Everyone here is fantastic! I mean, some could use a little loosening up, like a certain watch captain whose name may rhyme with 'prance' (actually that's a good suggestion for him to do, I need to write that down) but ... no, everyone here is wonderful."

IV

[ellrigaeta]

Lorne is not intentionally on search-and-rescue duty when he goes to find the source of noise coming from behind one of the buildings in the marketplace, but lo and behold: tangled in a pile of cord or netting is a pale grey cat. A very angry, very cold cat judging by the low yowl that turns into a hiss when Lorne attempts to reach for it, and the overabundance of shivering fluff.

"I'm only trying to free your legs," he tells the cat, which absolutely cannot understand him. Lorne doesn't have a lot of experience with pets, especially agitated ones, and the next time he extends a hand he has to snatch it back in a hurry when the poor creature swats at him, claws bared.

This won't do. Lorne straightens and spots someone else on the street. "Excuse me," he calls to the man, "you wouldn't happen to know much about cats, would you? I found one stuck and I've no idea how to free it without getting mauled," he adds a bit dryly.

[matkalainen]

Ah, a drunkard. Marvellous.

"A friend of yours?" he asks Finian warily, grateful that the door is already closed to minimize the amount of noise that reaches the others sleeping inside the chapel. He looks from the boy to the inebriated bard stumbling down the path ahead of them, then lifts his eyes towards the mountaintop--and grow rather wide.

"Oh," he exclaims, dropping a hand to the young man's shoulder, and points with the other, "look--" The wide wing span is visible only for an instant as the beast begins to disappear into the clouds fogging the peaks.

[matkalainen]

Alvi is intelligent enough to recognize when he is being addressed, and so as Vervain speaks at him, he peers right back down at the priest and appears unmoved. For the foreseeable future, this is where he will remain.

"Let him sulk," Tuo tells Verain wryly, "he will be delighted by those acorns on the morrow," but his eyes discreetly follow Dain as he moves around the vicar's office carefully collecting those feathers. Unless Dain should look his way, of course, at which point Tuo's attention is reserved exclusively for the blind priest before him.

"Nothing's the matter with your wagon, is it, Tuo?"

"No, no--damp got into the firewood. My own carelessness, unfortunately." He does his best, for the moment, not to let his sudden anxiety about his little home creep into his voice. Should the wrong set of eyes catch a glimpse of the engravings on the wood panels... well.

[ellrigaeta]

What time indeed. After the ghosts, before the heavy snow and bitter cold and now there's soldiers to contend with. Anyway. Lorne's rather distracted by the comment about Lance to wonder about timing and only barely suppresses a startled laugh.

His eyebrows do rise towards his hairline, clearly amused. "I wish you luck with that." Lance is perpetually reserved and committed to his duties. "I meant the soldiers, specifically, but if they're included I'm relieved to hear it. Things have been a bit tense."

[stableman]

He takes a breath and sits down as well, as Miss Pants accepts Dain's attention with a bump of her forehead against his fingers. This will take some trust, but he doesn't have any real choice in the matter. Miss Pants' approval helps a little bit, though.

"That's the point," is what he says, far from his actual train of thought. "She was the runt of the litter and wasn't eating well so I took her in and named her and now we'll see how big she gets." There's quiet pride in his words. Moose, for her sake, seems content to be held with one arm while receiving headscratches.

Detlef is quiet for a few moments, letting Moose's purring calm him down further, before he looks back over at Dain.

"So you're... stationed here? Do shepherds do stations?"

[stableman]

"Thank you," he says, pathetically, gratefully. It's bad for anyone or anything to be out, but if something happens to an animal because of him he'd feel awful. He'd probably feel as bad as he's supposed to feel each time he uses the vice, but with support and not being arrested he feels less and less bad about it.