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

[amaurosisfugax]

"H'lo, shepherd!"

For all the irksome nature of the task, it hasn't dented Ver's good cheer any. He smiles without lifting his head, taking out another handful of acorns and splitting them rapidly between the piles. Most of them go to the right this time; the left pile's only growing slowly.

"Getting the good acorns out of the bag--should still be plenty for Alvi, though. Didn't want to waste anything we could eat."

[shepherddain]

"That's wise," Dain agrees as he watches Vervain work. He's a little more accustomed now to speaking with someone blind than he was when they first met, and some of the minor behavioural quirks -- such as not looking up when someone speaks suddenly -- pass by without notice. Something that doesn't pass by without notice is how Vervain sorts through the acorns.

Of course, he wouldn't be using sight, but Dain doesn't know enough about the process to guess at what other senses he might be using. Smell? Sound? Vervain doesn't allow enough time for either. He seems to simply know. Curiosity momentarily drowns out misgivings, long enough for Dain to ask without thinking: "How do you tell which ones are good?"

Almost as he's speaking, he realises what the obvious answer might be. Torn between taking the question back with a somewhat blatant 'Never mind' and simply staying silent, Dain sits tensely on his haunches, not quite breathing.

[matkalainen]

Tuo, who has been drowsing like the indulgent housecat he is on the inside, stirs on his sleeping pallet. He rolls over onto his side and sits up just enough to prop his cheek up on one hand, sleepily blinking between both Vervain and Dain.

[amaurosisfugax]

Vervain Gardener is many things: Sheltered, trusting, and painfully earnest.

But he's not stupid by any stretch of the imagination.

True to form, he's not in any way alarmed by Dain's question (if he's even got any alarms to go off), but it does make him pause, because--

Because he doesn't know exactly how he's doing what he's doing, and nothing Gram taught him about logic or introspection or reasoning seems to apply to figuring out the mystery. He owes a shepherd--especially a kindly one!--an honest answer, though; so he bites his lower lip and considers carefully before saying, "I don't know, precisely. I s'pose I'm hearing the difference between them when I pick them up."

Which feels plausible, at least, right?

Great. Now it's going to be bothering him the rest of the day (especially because it suggests things he's not dumb enough to ignore).

[shepherddain]

In the safety of Vervain's blindness, Dain openly studies the other man. He's careful with his phrasing, but not worried, not alarmed, not even with a Shepherd right here. It's possible he's a very good actor, but would even that be enough to take such an obvious risk? He didn't so much as slow his sorting when Dain said good morning.

So: either Vervain is telling the truth, and there's nothing Vice-related going on here; or, and this possibility is enough to put confusion on Dain's face, Vervain thinks he's telling the truth, and genuinely has no idea what he's doing.

Is that even possible?

Dain looks up to find that Tuo has stirred and is looking at them, blinking sleep out of his eyes, and force of habit wipes Dain's expression and demeanour. He won't do anyone any favours by pointing this out here and now. "I see," he says lightly instead, as though someone just explained a clever answer to a riddle. "Your sense of hearing must be stronger than mine -- I'm sure that comes in handy. Good morning, Tuo! We didn't wake you, did we?"

[matkalainen]

"You did not," comes his drowsy reply half muffled by the back of his wrist as he yawns. He carefully pushes himself into a proper sitting position, stretches out his arms and shoulders, then paws about amongst the blankets in search of his headscarf. Where'd he put the blasted thing :C

[amaurosisfugax]

"Morning, Tuo," comes the faint, preoccupied echo from Vervain; his attention's entirely taken up by the acorn between his fingers. Dain had taken his explanation, which must have meant it was somehow satisfactory, but it didn't explain anything whatever.

He plucks another acorn out of the bag and holds it to his ear, expression mystified.

[shepherddain]

Dain smiles unexpectedly and -- hopefully only because of his current company -- instinctively puts an obvious hand over his mouth to hide it. A point for the genuinely-has-no-idea-what-he's-doing side of things, it seems. Vervain is more fortunate than he knows, that Dain is the Shepherd kneeling here hiding silent laughter, and not basically any other Shepherd in Maireglenne.

The poor man is going to have a tough time of it, when he realises. Dain will need to work out a way to help him.

"Vervain is just finishing up Alvi's breakfast," Dain tells Tuo -- partly so Tuo has a measure of the current situation, and partly to subtly remind the mystified novice priest he's not quite finished.

[matkalainen]

"Vervain is just finishing up Alvi's breakfast."

"Is he?" Tuo replies, his brows pulling into the most charming of befuddled frowns as he looks from Vervain, who appears to be... listening... to the acorns...? And then back to Dain, who seems to find this development delightful. Which it is, of course, though Vervain can't know what an endearing spectacle he is right now. "Well," he goes on, "do save some for Alvi. He gets very cross when I finish his breakfast myself." It's a joke, get it? Because--nevermind.

Finding his headscarf at last, he goes about the tedious work of finger combing his head of wild hair into submission before wrapping it up securely. But in the silence, he meets Dain's eyes and raises his eyebrows in a clear what on earth is going on? sort of expression.

[amaurosisfugax]

Another man might blink once or twice, clearing the fog of his thoughts; Vervain just seems to come out of them abruptly. "Oh, I'd never," he says to Tuo, mustering up a braver smile. "When he hasn't even started it? I'm good for one wormy acorn, tops."

As if by way of emphasis he stuffs the acorn he'd been listening to, and another for good measure, in his pocket. Then he's hurriedly parceling out the rest of the bag...though now and again he hesitates where he hadn't before, shaking this acorn or frowning at that one. But with only a minute's work left to him, he's finished with his task in short order and returning the scant handful of good acorns to the bag.

The better to be on his way in a hurry so he can get busy preparing for morning services (and turning out the chapel's overnight residents for fresh air and pew space), and.....forget whatever in the Night's name just happened there. (Like he'll stop thinking about it.)

"That's all of them, with plenty left over for Alvi."

[shepherddain]

Dain meets Tuo's gaze with a quiet shake of his head. Later. Ideally, not without Vervain's informed consent, though the likelihood of that is probably very low. Really -- is it possible not to know? Not that Dain needs further motivation, but how is it fair to condemn others for traits they're not even aware of?

"Thank you again," he says out loud with a smile in his voice, "for your help, both last night and this morning. I hope I don't need to make a habit of bringing you last-minute additions on the verge of freezing." Is that pointed? Maybe a little, though Dain looks as innocent as the driven snow.

[matkalainen]

Tuo feigns a look of supreme offence at that last comment, but the twinkle of mischief in his eyes belies it. As does his curiosity, which Dain should know by now is quite persistent--but for the time being, he keeps his questions to himself. (Primarily because asking would require that he and Dain spend time in each other's company, in private, and at this particular moment that seems... unwise.)

"I shall thank you on Alvi's behalf, as I expect he will not deign to come down from the rafters just yet." He glances up just once to verify that the magpie has not moved, and is proven correct when Alvi simply peers back down at him skeptically. Sigh. birb.

[amaurosisfugax]

"Oh, Shepherd, you could bring me a hundred more and I'd be glad of 'em not dying in the cold," Vervain says fervently--and with a grin for ... well, it's not really Tuo's direction, but. He's trying.

"You're welcome, all three of you. I've got to go get ready for the morning homily, but stay as long as you like, all right? Stay warm."

And he will bustle off to do just that, and try not to think about how he knows exactly which of the acorns he's pocketed has worms in it.