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

[ferruginous]

Fíadh's lungs expel in a loud 'oof' as she stumbles back on her foot. She blinks in a bit of surprise as she pauses a moment, just a moment, to assess the damage. Huh. Okay, he's deceptively quicker than his large frame would suggest. Time to reassess.

Fists squarely back in front of her she feints to the left, looking to aim high at his face once again before ducking down at the last minute, sending her own blow to his solar-plexus. Sure, she gets the hit off, but damn if that doesn't burst some blood vessels across her knuckles and smears blood against Waen's shirt. What is this man made of, rock?

[howryanow]

He lifts to block but she snaps down and hits him hard in the side. He can take it, thankfully, but he'll have a hell of a bruise later.

She's lunged forward, followed through on that punch, and he bends, gets his arms locked around her torso, and lifts. Waen isn't usually one for scrapping, tossing and dropping people, but he will take the opportunity when it presents itself.

Getting her on the ground might put an end to their scuffle quickly and he's keen to be the winner.

[ferruginous]

Fíadh lets out an 'oop' of surprise as she's suddenly lifted upside-down into the air. It's ... been a long time since anyone's ever handled her like this, and despite the precarious situation she's mildly impressed.

She swings her own arms back to grip his torso as best as she can and swings her legs forward, hoping the momentum will throw him off-balance. Sure, they might both go down, but she's prepared for the landing.