OPEN ↠ HARING EVENT

[faderifting]

WHO: All
WHAT: WINTER IS HERE
WHEN: Haring 15-Wintermarch 1
WHERE: The Gallows, Kirkwall
NOTES: You can use this post as an event-style mingle log, or just use it as background information for your RP elsewhere!

It's been a chilly month already, but in mid-Haring the temperature suddenly plummets. One day it's merely cold, and the next morning the Inquisition wakes to frost on the inside of the window panes and an icy draft whistling through every crack in the tower's masonry. Downstairs, the pipes that feed the bathing chambers and the kitchens creak in the walls, loud enough to be heard even out in the courtyard, where they run beneath the stones, and around midday, when the sun has failed to raise the temperature above freezing, a blocked pipe finally gives, cracking open to spill water across the central court and send it running down side passages. The whole area floods several inches deep and almost immediately begins to freeze, presenting at first a gigantic, treacherous slush puddle and, after a few hours, a sheet of sheer ice.

Melting a safe path from door to door and laying down sand or wood to keep it from becoming slick again is a simple enough undertaking, but before the entire courtyard can be thawed, someone appears with ice skates—and that’s a better idea, surely, for at least a few days. Anyone who complains about the frivolity can be assured it’s good exercise, not to mention good training for a force that may have to travel or fight on ice in the future.

Temperatures remain cold enough that even some parts of the harbor begin to freeze, first just at the calmest edges of the shoreline, and then the more protected nooks and crannies of the bay, inlets and the spaces between piers and beneath docks. It snows most days--not real storms, just a couple inches here and there--little enough for the window to blow most of it off the icy plain of the courtyard and other wide open, paved spaces, accumulating on branches and in alleyways, and creating growing drifts in corners and against walls.

After a week or so actual chunks of floating ice begin to fill the narrow channels of the harbor, threatening smaller and less-sturdy vessels, and the situation in the poorer parts of the city begins to grow dire. With the Viscount's blessing, Inquisition teams (particularly mages) are called in to help. Some are assigned to the docks, to clear ice that makes landing and unloading treacherous, others to help escort ships into harbor by melting a path ahead. Others are sent into Lowtown to clear ice and snow and to provide warmth and medical attention where needed. At least one mage is sent with each team, and while many neighborhoods are pleasantly surprised and grateful for the quick work fire glyphs make of cold hearths and frozen streets, a few are unable to overcome their distrust, and refuse the teams entry, determined to take care of their own without the help of dangerous outsiders.

In the last week of the year, a true blizzard strikes, snow falling steadily for more than a day, blanketing the city at least three feet deep. Digging out the Gallows will be a group effort, and most non-essential trips outside the base will be cancelled for a few days until travel is less difficult, while those who reside in the city or elsewhere may be encouraged to stay a night or two in the fortress so they might continue to work without traveling through the storm. But on the first day of Wintermarch the First Day feast goes on as planned, with modest but plentiful food and ale served in the Gallows' dining hall for anyone who wishes to celebrate the new year.

Comments

Fenris | Open

[lyriumcarved]

Ice Skating

No. No, no, no, Fenris is determined not to take part in this frivolity at all. He stands near where others are skating and watches for a bit. He’s going to take off and find something better to do with his time, when suddenly someone is shoving a pair of skates in his hands.

“I don’t want to…”

He stares uneasily at the bladed skates. It’s just a very weird thought for someone who’s barely accustomed to wearing much in the way of footwear.

“How are you even supposed to stay balanced on these things?”

Mistletoe

It creeps in without any warning. Fenris is minding his own business, going about his day, when very suddenly it strikes him. Whatever it is, it’s upon him before he can do much about it. The creeping plant bites down, determined not to let go anytime soon. With an exasperated sound, Fenris starts fighting it more forcefully, which is probably an absurd sight to come across. But so far, no luck… it looks like the plant is winning.

Clearing the Docks

When he’s assigned to help clearing things out, Fenris obliges willingly enough. He needs something to do right now. The weather has been terrible, meaning there’s little ability to travel much, and he’s restless.

So he joins in the effort. While he doesn’t exactly enjoy teaming up with mages for this, it’s got to get done. So he focuses on hauling away snow and ice, occasionally having to give a heavy downstrike with his sword to break up the especially stubborn chunks of ice.

Feast

"To another year. May it prove less eventful than the last." Fenris raises his wine glass to toast it with whoever’s seated nearby. Look, you can have your cozy and enthusiastic wishes all you want, but this elf just wants less magisters and demons in his life. It’s surely not that much to ask for, is it?

He may have already downed quite a bit to drink already, so tonight may also find him in a somewhat lighter mood than usual. Somewhat. There are limits, after all.

Feast

[iceblade]

Skadi chuckles and raises her tankard of ale in response before taking a swig. Now that's the good stuff, none of the pisswater that Lowtown uses an excuse for a drink. "I don't mind some excitement, myself! But I'll meet you halfway and hope it's the decisive sort that crushes our enemies. The sooner, the better. Then we can get to the epic partying." She winks, probably already having some plans in that direction.

[lyriumcarved]

Exactly. Fenris may not be the best when it comes to attending social events, but knowing they'd go all out with the good stuff? Well, he's not about to turn that down.

"When you've been through too much excitement, you really start to wish for otherwise... On the other hand, I can drink to crushed enemies." He even manages a flash of a smile as he again raises his glass and then gulps a bunch down. "What constitutes an epic party for the Avvar?

[iceblade]

She throws back her head with a laugh. "A shite-ton of mead, for one! Some favor that and wild dancing, some -like me- prefer a bout or few in the arena. Nothing like a good battle to get your blood pumping, eh? Though some other way are just as fun, I know."

[lyriumcarved]

Fenris' expression is overall approving. "It truly sounds like something magnificent to behold. Your people sound like they're very in tune with... the more physical aspects of life." In every sense of the word, undoubtedly. He thinks he does understand though. Being so free and wild, having such a passion for life... it's not something he really got to see until he was among the Fog Warriors.

[iceblade]

"Aye, that we are. If you're ever curious, I'd be happy to show you." She sends a wink his way, her meaning unmistakeable. Why not? He's not unattractive and that mysterious brooder angle is definitely working for him. "If we're needed south again, I'll see what I can do about giving you a warm welcome."

Clearing the Docks

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin hasn't been around much lately, ever since news of Sina's death had spread around the Inquisition. This is an exception, borne out of necessity since she's a mage with some knowledge of fire spells. Spotting Fenris, she strides over to him, all focus.

"Want to team up? We can focus on getting rid of those large chunks while the others work on the easier stuff."

[lyriumcarved]

"I was hoping you would say that. There's too much ice here for any one person to manage alone. Why don't we start over here?" He gestures nearby, to the area where he's primarily been working. It seems pretty unending at the moment, with a lot to break down... but maybe between them they can make some good headway. He readies his sword again. "I'll get this spot, here."

[gatheringstorm]

"Perfect." Glancing over, she nods to that and readies her staff. Once she's in position, Korrin unleashes a burst of flame, engulfing the ice. Hopefully that will melt it enough to make the next part a little easier.

[lyriumcarved]

Meanwhile, Fenris gets to work on the section he's claimed, raising his sword high and giving a powerful downstroke. He does this again, repeatedly, starting to glow by the end of his efforts. The ice cracks and crumbles away as he works, and he starts to see some good progress after a few moments. From the look of the flames nearby, it seems things are going well for Korrin too.

[gatheringstorm]

It's tempting to summon her spirit blade and slice through the ice, and maybe she will at some point, but for now Korrin sticks with fire. They need some ambient heat or they won't be able to keep at this for long. She uses her staff as well, the lightning striking and cracking the ice further. Korrin narrows her eyes and begins to use more force than is strictly necessary; these ice blocks can substitute as a punching bag for now.

ice skating

[unshadowing]

As a Fereldan-born, Carver's in his element. It's been ages since he ice skated, but he finds himself throwing on a pair of skates and going out on the ice soon enough. He's always liked skating, even if he's not the most graceful figure out on the ice.

He glances over and finds Fenris staring down at a pair of skates and looking rather, dare he say, nervous? Carver's matured throughout the years, but he still can't help himself as he skates over to Fenris.

"First thing you do is slide your feet in those holes at the top there." Haha, get it, because he doesn't wear shoes? Ahahahahahaaaaaa sorry Fenris.

[lyriumcarved]

You're getting a Look, Carver. A long, scathing, did you just say what I thought you did, let's hope not sort of a look. Fenris frowns for a moment, looking back at the skates, then back to Carver with a dry tone in his voice.

"You're taking your chances, saying that to someone holding two sharpened blades in his hands at the moment." Some people see fun skating implements, Fenris just sees knives on shoes... who puts knives on shoes, really? But maybe there's a secret group of assassins out there who would find it suitable. "This is really something that people do... for fun?" He sounds so incredulous about the whole matter.

[unshadowing]

Totally. Worth it. Look or not, Carver's wearing a bit of a shit eating grin.

"You try stepping onto the ice with those on your hands and your feet bare, you'd go slipping and sliding." And then he'd probably injure himself and Carver would feel a bit bad about laughing. But he'd still totally be laughing, because it's Carver. "But yes, people do it for fun. Live in the land of cold, you work with it."

[lyriumcarved]

"I guess you have to make do with your circumstances." He sighs, knowing that now that he has these skates in hand and has at most expressed the intention of doing something with them. It's probably too late to back down now. Wasn't he going to at least attempt new experiences like this, now and again?

He goes over to a spot where he can sit and start putting the skates on. "Now, will there be some guarantee that I can do this and keep my dignity intact?"

[unshadowing]

Carver shrugs. "Not every place gets to be as warm and balmy as the north." Though Ferelden's certainly on the coldest end of the spectrum, outdone only by those who live in the Frostbacks and the wilds in the south.

Fenris's question makes him snort. "Not a chance. You're going to fall on your bum at least three times, unless you cling to something the entire time. But there's no fun in that."

skating

[motherfucking_ghost]

Church did not put the skates in the hands of elfy mcbroody, but he sure isn't gonna save him from the wonder that is skating. "It's called momentum. Like riding a bike!"

...Wait, shit. "You guys don't have bikes here, uhhhh, like when you start moving on them you tend to actually stay upright, and, I mean there's a learning curve, obviously, but it's not all that hard? Might wanna stick to a buddy to help balance first though."

He is perfectly willing to be that 'buddy' if need be. Because winter fun.

[lyriumcarved]

“I’m going to assume I should be thankful we have no ‘bikes’ here.” Fenris has decided that just from the sound of it, he doesn’t like them, magical implement or not. He eyes the skates skeptically once more. Blades. On his feet. “I still say that blades should be held in your hand instead, but… why not? Just this once.”

Is he going to regret trying this? Maybe. He glances around to find a spot to sit and put on the terrifying blade-shoes. “Were you implying you wanted to assist me with this? Or are you going to be a spectator to my inevitable fall?”

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Little of one half, little of the other, my tattooed dude." Or at least he's assuming those are tats. Native elves sometimes do that. "You probably can't kill anyone with those unless you're really acrobatic and someone's stupid enough to somehow be in the way. Y'know, I always had this fear that I'd fall, and then someone was gonna run over my fingers and cut 'em off? Never happened. Never knew anyone that happened to. So mostly what you're gonna have to worry about is a sore ass, but at that point, you're already sitting on ice, so."

He's super helpful, see? At least the offer to help is genuine, wiggling a hand at him when he's got the skates on.

[lyriumcarved]

Oh, no, these most certainly aren't tattoos. But, Fenris doesn't want to get into that again, and not only because he doesn't feel like explaining. It's also that he just... doesn't need to hear or know about any tattoos he may happen to have. That can be a long, weird conversation, he's learned.

"Ah, good, I was seriously lacking in severed finger mental imagery today. That's just what I needed." He's determined, though, to keep his dignity (and fingers) intact. He sighs, the skates on now, even if they're not entirely comfortable. They fit, yes, but it still doesn't feel entirely natural to have them on.

He moves along toward him, very slowly and cautiously

[motherfucking_ghost]

Yeaaaah, let's not ruin the festive season of making fun of people with torture and slavery. Leave that for terrible family reunions and shit.

"All the more motivation to stay on your feet! There you go, I got ya." Hope not-tattoo boy doesn't mind physical contact, because Church craves that mineral sure doesn't the way he grabs on to one of Fenris' hands and eases him onto the ice and is himself slowly drifting backwards.

"You can kinda start by just taking steps like you normally would walking, but in doing so, you just kinda start gliding forward. Don't lift your legs much, just kinda gently push yourself along."

mistletoe -- because i've been stalling long enough their first meeting needs to be awk as possible

[faithlikeaseed]

The sounds of a mistletoe assault in progress are fast becoming familiar to Myr--and even if they weren't, the silver wyrmling playing guide dog for him isn't about to let them walk by someone in such obvious distress. Charis is the first to Fenris' side, winging his way down the hall to land at the tall elf's feet with a chitter of concern before rearing up to grab at the nasty little plant. Surely this time he can take care of it without accidentally giving someone frostbite...even if the air around him is already too cold for comfort.

It's that earlier minor disaster that has Myr hastening after his diminutive helper-slash-charge, though he's laughing a little helplessly as he does. "Charis, dearling, don't freeze this one until we've gotten it off--sorry, he's a little enthusiastic about rescuing people."

yes, perfect!! awkwardness is always the best option

[lyriumcarved]

It's frustrating and annoying, and Fenris just wants to put an end to this, but none of his stubborn attempts to pull the plant off are working. He's considering his next move when something comes darting out of nowhere, grabbing at the plant. Unfortunately, Fenris mistakes the helpfulness for an attempt to attack him.

"What is this- get a weapon, I'm under attack!" Fenris is clearly not pleased to have a small dragon coming at him. He can't seem to reach his weapon with the plant growing on him like this. But the other elf approaching might be of some assistance... 'Might' being the operative word here, of course. Of all the things that had to happen, an attacking plant and some kind of monster on the loose... It's never a dull moment in Kirkwall, is it? Sigh.

isn't it??

[faithlikeaseed]

Under attack?! Clearly the mistletoe is even more insidious than Charis thought; it's biting right through his new friend's clothes! Deciding it too urgent a situation for claws alone, the wyrmling promptly chomps down on the plant with frost-rimed jaws.

The mistletoe screeches in outrage. Charis screeches in dismay--bitter!! stinging!!--and abruptly lets go, sitting back on his haunches to paw whimpering at his snout.

It's only that there's no sound of a blow that keeps Myr from assuming the worst about what's just happened, though his expression darkens as he draws close to elf, plant, and dragon. "No need, serah, he's more a threat to himself than you. --You didn't try to bite it, did you," to Charis, who only whimpers louder in response.

Never, ever a dull moment in Kirkwall.

yesssss

[lyriumcarved]

Indeed not. Fenris winces as the mistletoe makes that horrid screech. “This thing could wake the dead,” he mutters in frustration. He’s still making the most skeptical expression at the dragon, unsure what aspect of this situation he’s more appalled by.

“I beg to differ… Or has the Inquisition taken to raising dragons now? What’s next, Rage Demons scrubbing the kitchens? Abominations overseeing the stables?” He’s starting to faintly glow, already, his desperation reaching a boiling over point. “There has to be… some way to remove this thing…” He’s never encountered anything like this, before, whatever it is. He’s willing to bet it was some magical experiment gone awry or worse, something that came through the rifts.