faderift | 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

That flask looks like a godsend right about now. Not that most things from the gods are good, or don't come with strings attached, but warm cider should be pretty straightforward, right?

"Totally deserving of a break." Spare the healers from having to try and reverse frostbite on poor fingers, too. "You sneak that in? I totally forgot to grab something before heading out." whoops.

"Oh naturally. Always have a bit on me - either to warm me up, or to disinfect a wound. It's a good two-for," he nodded, moving off to the side to be sheltered from the wind with Prompto. He unscrewed the little silver cap and took a swig before holding it out to Prompto. The liquid was spicy and warm(ish), enough to make his stomach flush with eat and his throat tingle pleasantly - if only for a little bit.

"How much longer you going to be digging?" he nodded back to the snow.

"Thanks." Prompto rubs his hands together until Kirk hands him the flask. He takes a swig from it, suppressing a shudder from the burn that goes down his throat. He's gotten used to the ale here, for the most part, but the whiskey he's still working on. He hands it back to Kirk with a smile.

"Was kind of hoping to go for another hour, but I don't know if my fingers or toes are gonna last that long." His hands and back are sore, and his toes are going numb. "You?"

It gave a better burn in Kirk's opinion, certainly kept your belly warmer longer, even if that warmth was something of a falsehood. But mind over matter, right?

"Probably about the same," he nodded, wiggling said fingers. Even wrapped as they were, the cold was a bitter thing here. "You want to come over, after? Could whip up some soup and we usually have a fire going," he offered the younger man. "Finish off the whiskey."

It's the kind of cold one can feel right in their bones, even with layers on and the warmth of exercise. "Yeah! I'd like that. We can de-icicle ourselves and get our clothes to dry." Not just from the snow, but the sweat as well. He vaguely remembers something about how the sweat can be just as dangerous, and something something hypothermia from being wet something something. Who pays attention in health class? "Think we got another fifteen minutes in us?"

"Suppose so. At least enough no one can say we shirked our duty," he chuckled, looking back towards their bit of snow to shovel and grimacy. He didn't like snow, not at all. Even growing up with it, he never had, and especially not since the planet he'd been marooned on.

"Enough to make the fire at home feel a whole lot better," he breathed onto his fingers to warm them, the drink not reaching quite that far.

"Noooot at all. Who knows if the locals will think differently of us for it, but hey, at least we tried." And they'll have dug the Gallows out, so it won't all be for nothing.

"A little can go along way, but changing their minds over night about is something that only happens in the movies. We just have to do our best and show them we're good people, just a little different," he shrugged before sighed and tucking away the alcohol and getting up.

"Let's finish up and go get inside before our balls freeze," he said, slapping Prompto on the shoulder. "I'd have a very sad lover if that happened."

OPEN ↠ HARING EVENT

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