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

[stableman]

Now he looks up, straightening so he can meet Dain's gaze.

"But I am guilty. I don't know how to act like I'm not when I am. I'm not some stage performer, able to change how I act or feel like putting on a new outfit." He shrugs. Hiding isn't easy, even though he wishes it was and has wished as much since he realized what he could do. "I can double-check, I'll work on that. I wish..."

He trails off and shakes his head, looking as young as he actually is for once. "Is it heresy to wish there was some guide to how to change the scope of what you're doing, or know how to do it better?"

[shepherddain]

You're not guilty, Dain wants to say, but manages to bite it back in time. He hasn't completely forgotten himself. "It's a skill to learn," he says instead, "like any other. No one is born acting like something they're not. Nor can anyone change their feelings at the drop of a hat."

He's struck, again, by how contrary this situation is to every other he's experienced where the Profane are concerned. Either you learn to stay hidden very quickly, or you learn to defend yourself very quickly, or both. Does Detlef's lack of skill speak more of this village's isolaton, or of his kindness and care? The latter, Dain decides, and he cannot help but feel responsible for what happens to Detlef now, which was precisely what he'd been hoping to avoid.

"Heresy, yes," he answers quietly. "Inadvisable, no."

[sampler]

There's a faint creak from the room beyond that cracked-open doorway. If one of them happens to be at just the right angle, they might see a white-cloaked figure through the gap. The thud of Farogil putting his latest trunk of belongings down is probably louder than the creak, as is his tired groan after.

"Let's see, where shall you go? Over here on this chest I think," he narrates, voice soft as if he were having a delicate conversation. Except he's talking to himself and, apparently, to a cat. "Would you move please? I need you to move. Please move, sir. Please. You can lay on the bed. That would be nicer for you I think. Please? Please move. Here, will you move here? This is soft. Please move. Yes thank-oh. Move further please, sir."

He sighs heavily, "Alright, I suppose I'll leave it there for now. Perhaps you'll move when I come back. Sorry to bother you sir, yes, you go back to sleep. I think next is that sack of wool, perhaps you'd rather sleep on it instead of that wood. We'll see I suppose. I'm off."

And then he's headed back through the slightly-creaky door again to finish his moving.

[ellrigaeta]

"There's a lot practice can do for you," Lorne says, echoing Dain's words. "Whether that means practicing here, in the privacy of your own home--"

And then he hears someone entering the other room. Immediately he falls silent, waiting and listening. What he hears sounds very much like someone voicing their thoughts and actions as they go, and presumably talking to Detlef's aforementioned cats. The person finishes whatever rearranging was necessary and departs, and Lorne breathes out a quiet huff of amusement and relief.

"Friend of yours, I assume?" He shakes his head. "I suppose living with someone may make practicing more difficult." Beat. "Unless he knows...?"

[stableman]

He wishes he wasn't Profane, that he wasn't having heretical thoughts, but there's really no changing what it is and he can't stop. Which means apparently he's going to need practice acting at the very least.

Detlef looks toward the doorway and dithers. It shouldn't be unsafe to tell them that Faro knows, but if they're tortured... then Farogil is probably doomed anyway because no one will assume that he didn't realize he was sleeping with someone with the Vice. He looks down.

"He knows." He swallows before looking up. "I'm seeing him, and I couldn't see someone who didn't know because it didn't seem fair." All he can do is hope they don't ask how many know. "I can see if he'll help me practice acting."

[shepherddain]

Detlef makes it sound like he confessed to having the Vice, but Dain wouldn't be at all surprised if the other man stumbled on the secret the same way Lorne and Dain both did just now. Still, it's good to know the couple are happy, and not just because the audible murmuring through the cracked doorway had put Dain immediately on edge.

He drops his face into his hand, laughing softly to himself. Detlef confessed because he didn't think it was fair to be in a relationship with someone who didn't know he had the Vice. This -- this is the sort of world Dain wants to live in, which clashes badly with the self-preservation instinct he definitely has, and it's funny, and it's definitely not funny, and it may or may not be worrying to see a Shepherd laughing like this, but it feels necessary to mark the absurdity somehow. Either way, it doesn't look like words are forthcoming.

[ellrigaeta]

It is an absurd situation they've found themselves in, which Dain's quiet laughter only highlights further. Lorne only arches an eyebrow at the Shepherd, faint bemusement on his face. Laughter is probably better than most reactions, even if it's confusing.

"That's a very selfless thing to do," Lorne tells Detlef. Brave, and maybe a little foolish, but like Dain he would rather live in a world where people can be brave without the threat of execution on their heads. He can imagine it would be difficult and painful to be in a relationship with someone and feeling you have to hide something so enormous from them. "I'm glad it worked out for you both."

He pauses, sips at his drink while considering how much he can reasonably offer to get involved. "If I can help, I'm not hard to find. Just don't come to the guardhouse," Lorne suggests wryly.