faderift | OPEN ↠ HARING EVENT

OPEN ↠ HARING EVENT

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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."

"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?"

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."

"And you consider the risk of injury and humiliation fun?" No, wait, why would he even want an answer to that? From Carver? He thinks he already knows that answer, so he... really doesn't need to wait to heat it.

Instead, he stands and tries to balance on the skates. He's come a little too far to reasonably back out now, so he's going to have to make do. It's... not so bad, standing in place, he finds, but he knows the real challenge will be in actually moving around.

He looks at Carver expectantly. "How exactly is this supposed to work, anyway?"

Nah, he's not gonna answer that, aside from a laugh. Because Fenris ought to know better, really. Of course he does. And seeing Fenris hopefully fall on his bum makes it even better.

Instead, he moves onto his next question. "You push off with the skate to move. Like this." It'd be easier to show him. So Carver moves, skating in a circle, exaggerating his moves a bit to show Fenris how it's done. "Just hold your arms out a bit at first to help balance."

At least learning by imitation is something Fenris is extremely familiar with... He's picked up quite a few skills that way. So he watches intently, focusing especially on Carver's legs and feet, the way he glides along and keeps that momentum going.

"That doesn't seem so difficult."

But seeing it and doing it are different matters entirely. Fenris starts off slow, mimicking Carver's motions, ending up holding his arms out wide and waving them around wildly as he starts getting extremely off-balance. He utters some Tevene curses under his breath.

"Uh huh." Carver's just gonna let it go at that, because Fenris will find out for himself very shortly.

He skates in a wide circle around Fenris, watching him as he slowly slides out onto the ice, arms flapping like an irritated bird who got sprayed with water. A bark of laughter escapes him as he slows, watching Fenris carefully. "Just keep flapping, you'll get it eventually." Carver's a terrible person sometimes.

At this rate, he's bound to take off and fly into the air like that pack of griffons the Wardens are housing. No, this... this won't do at all. Fenris scowls at Carver, clearly not finding this nearly as amusing as he is. He starts to move along, very slowly and awkwardly, but it's progress... he's very definitely moving forward at the moment. Hooray.

"And if you keep commenting, you'll soon enough regret-" Whoops! One misstep and then Fenris lands, ending up fully sprawled on his back. The Tevene swear words start to flow more loudly and freely now.

Well, he's moving. That's progress. Carver keeps watching, arms crossed, fighting a smile. But it fails but Fenris slips and lands unceremoniously on the ice. Carver bursts out laughing, though he does at least skate over to make sure he's all right.

When he's convinced it's only Fenris's pride that's bruised - and probably his bum - he jerks his head towards a wall. "Maybe you ought to just hang onto the wall over there for a bit until you get the hang of it." Gee, why didn't he suggest that before?

The darkening of his face into a glare says it all. Yes, why did you wait to suggest the obvious? Fenris is so not amused, and close to just being done with this whole attempt. But now, there’s some bit of wounded pride to recapture here, so he’s going to have to stick with it long enough to at the very least restore his dignity.

“Finally, an idea from you with some sense to it.” Don’t mind him and his mood right now, really. Fenris sighs heavily, as he finally moves to start getting up, although that process is also very slow going.

Oh, he doesn't mind. This is Fenris, after all. Carver remembers his moods quite well. And to be fair, he brought out this foul mood in him, so it's the least he deserves. Still, he looks far too amused for his own good at Fenris grouses. But when he tries to get up, Carver looks around. Getting up's tough, and he's not about to expect Fenris to crawl; that's a bit too demeaning to be funny. Luckily, there's something for him to grab hold off. Gripping that, he reaches out for Fenris's hand. This way, he can help him up without Fenris taking him down with him.

There aren't any onlookers around, at least, so he's mostly getting away with this undignified moment. Mostly, because Carver is there as a witness. He'll never live this down. No, he's fully expecting this to come up again at some point in the future, when he least expects it. Fun.

He can't refuse the offered help, though. Otherwise, he'll just continue to scramble hopelessly on the ice. So he manages to swallow just enough pride to grab Carver's hand and start hauling himself up thanks to his help.

It absolutely will be brought up again. Or at least hung over his head as potential blackmail material. Better yet, if Marian returns, he might just tell her the story. If he's feeling particularly cruel.

Carver yanks him up, gently pushing towards the wall where he can grip on. There he can hang on until he's more comfortable in the skates. "Just hang on and take it slow. Your bum probably doesn't want another bruise on it."

That's all he needs, is Carver armed with potential blackmail material. This can't end well. He'll just have to hope that this gets forgotten sooner than not. There are surely more important things to deal with. Right?

He clutches to that wall as if it's a lifeline, holding tightly until he feels more like he's better balanced again. He's not exactly eager to let go, but he manages to at least straighten up a bit. He scowls deeply. "One is already one too many. But for once, you've also said something sensible. Take it slow... I'll follow that advice." He takes a deep breath as he attempts to move along very slowly, still carefully positioned by that wall.

Oh most certainly, but that doesn't mean he'll forget. Oh no. This will go in the permanent, long term memory bank. Because Carver's a dick.

"I say plenty of sensible things. Others just don't seem to find them as such." Carver skates by him a few times, enjoying the cool air on his face. Okay, and maybe he's trying to goad Fenris a little. But just a little. "How's it coming along?"

No, no, no, this does not deserve to be remembered! But Fenris has a bad feeling that no matter what he does or says, it won't help that now. He's stuck with Carver as a witness to this.

"Really? Name one time that your advice was helpful." Fenris pauses. "Aside from this one, single moment. It seems to be progressing... better this time." He's not falling again yet, so that's good, right? Even if he's still very much clinging heavily to that wall.

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