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

[foundmyselfagain]

“That is a very interesting new fashion trend.”

Gareth appears from around a corner, looking at Vandelin’s new toothy accessories with a raised eyebrow. “Make sure to walk by some of the Orlesians we have hanging around here, so they can admire it. Maybe they’ll start copying you.” He flashes Van a grin at that, making his way on over to inspect the strange plant creatures. Huh. The fact that he’s never met Van before doesn’t seem to stop him from showing interest in whatever is going on here, or shoving his face in it.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing before. Where’d you find them?”

[misdirection_hex]

"If it earns me royalties from the great fashion houses, I'll call it a worthwhile discovery," he says. The fact that a stranger is nosing into his business, a berry has just torn out a hank of hair with its teeth, and the one on his ear is now drawing blood does not appear to faze Vandelin but for the faintly strained note of pain in his voice.

"They came from the cupboard there. I mean to go find someone from Research and give them back their subjects. Or take credit for finding them first, whichever it is."

[foundmyselfagain]

Gareth spares a glance for the cupboard in question, but decides against investigating himself. He doesn't need to have his own little plant monster accessories, thanks. Even if they become extremely fashionable in Orlais. Maybe especially then.

"Well, I never heard of them being in the Gallows or being developed before the whole place went up in flames, so I'd guess it's something brand new. Either made by the people here, or--Well, you'd think someone would notice them on the ferry. Do you think they can swim?" He leans closer, squinting at the one on Van's ear. It doesn't look particularly aquatic, but what does he know?

"I can probably get them off with fire, but, uh--even just going after the one on your ear would be risky. Hair is pretty flammable. And smells awful." He would know, he's done it to enough people.