Event: August 1312

[northcliffpass]

WHO: Everyone
WHAT: further inconvenience
WHEN: mid-August
WHERE: townwide
NOTES: get your wellies on

It's not that there was a rainstorm. There was, but they happen every so often without any real incident: this one is just happening A Lot, and for a very long time.
It started on Saturday and has not let up since then, with rainfall varying from a smattering to torrential but never abating entirely. The roads are muck, travel and market hours are miserable, and any who have to spend any considerable time out in it (the local Watch, for instance) have the look of drowned rats even with the aid of oilskin cloaks and the occasional break under an awning.

Sands Creek has swelled considerably even in the span of a day or so, and as many of the local old-timers might have predicted, the mudslide follows. Because more mud is exactly what everyone needed.
No one is injured outright, but several of the buildings near the mountain-facing edge of town experience cave-ins: namely, the stable and a few of the houses on Hill Street.

Dealing with it will not be pretty, especially with it being so impossible to stay dry. But it's happened before, and almost certainly will again, some other year from now.

Comments

LATE I AM SORRY

[stableman]

He's exhausted, but her passion for one of his animals helps push a little bit of that back. She's loud because she cares. That's a good reason. But maybe not a good reason to half-threaten him, really.

"He's fine," Detlef says quickly, glancing at the nearest wall and wondering if it was stable (ha ha) enough to support him. It might not be, so he's left standing in place kinda sagging. "All of the animals are all right. Some are a little more shaken than others, but everyone made it out. Everything, not so much. ...Do blacksmiths know anything about repairing buildings?"

[ferruginous]

She huffs and puffs a bit from the internal passion of fear brewing through her. Well, that and the running; she ran all the way here. But Detlef's words slowly bring her down, and she begins to realize that it's not just the two of them here in the stables. She stiffens as she notices Lance, remembering the last time she saw him was also in ... a less-than-composed manner. She clears her throat before responding.

"... Captain."

She looks back to Detlef and furrows her brows. She really does think for a moment on how she can actually help, now that she knows Gregor is all right.

"I can move large debris and know how to swing a hammer. I'll help where I can."

[infinitewatch]

Lance nods faintly in return to the greeting, clearly, in the way of most mammals, more frightened of Fíadh than she is of him.

"Let's clear the roof, and the mud," he politely suggests to Detlef, "...then we can see how bad the rest is."