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

[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!"

[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.

[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!"