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]

Not a glamourous life? If Dain's rapt attention and obvious interest are anything to go by, the truth is the exact opposite. He's wary about asking too many questions, lest it be taken as an interrogation, but -- he would enjoy this life, he thinks, living with a family of cats in a small village with simple concerns and simple tasks.

"If you like it, it's glamourous enough," he says, smiling. "And for Moose, for these strays -- you're a lifesaver. You put good into the world. Isn't that right, Miss Pants?" He scratches the back of Miss Pants' head, so that she raises and lowers her head in a manner not unlike a nod.

[stableman]

Glamorous would be somewhere warm, where he could wear really nice clothing all of the time. But this is at least a life he enjoys, when he isn't getting caught by the umpteenth person because he doesn't know how to be sneaky. That's not something they teach, unfortunately. Not that he's ever had much of a chance for being taught something that isn't about animals.

He finally smiles in return when Dain notes what's important - that he helps the cats. The animals, really, but he's most partial to cats.

"It isn't like they can help themselves," he says quietly. Moose starts kneading his arm and he shifts her a little so she's instead kneading the leather patch he has on his sleeve just for this. "Someone has to be there for them, and I like helping. And I'm good at it."

Detlef shrugs. "Taking over for the old stablemaster seemed the perfect fit. ...Can I, did..." He takes a breath. "Why are you a Shepherd?"

[shepherddain]

Years of practice restrict Dain's reaction to one startled twitch of his hand. Miss Pants looks up at him, but quickly and easily settles again when Dain makes it clear he's not about to stop stroking her.

Why are you a Shepherd? is a question Dain would have been absolutely sure he misheard, were he still back in Cliffside or Fairport. Why do you want to be a Shepherd? is a question he's answered before, usually for the priests at the orphanage or his instructors as he grew older. Is there something about this village he's missed, or does the instinct to hide vanish when you live so far in the mountains?

"Well," he answers slowly, in an effort to buy himself a little time to think, "I underwent the training, and then I passed the tests... you don't live in the stable, do you?"