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

[paladingus]

He had not envied her the climate of the Western Approach, to be sure. Why would anyone prefer scorching sunburn and sweat over lovely soft snow like this? (Except if they aren't fortunate enough to have heat, or if they're trapped in their homes without food, or...well, all right, there are any number of very legitimate reasons to have a problem with the snowbanks everywhere. But Simon himself doesn't have any.

Until he gets tackled into one, his expression embarrassingly comical in its shock before a mouthful of snow renders him unable to comment. In lieu of that, he whacks at her shoulder.

"That wasn't a proper heads-up!"

[unbrokenoath]

The heat was probably as bearable as it was because, in the long list of things that really sucked about the Western Approach, it being hot enough to fry an egg on the cobblestone was honestly near the bottom. Besides, that's what those qunari rope bikini armors are for.

But, back in Snow Hell, Kirkwall, Kaisa is still laughing delightedly, and only redoubles her laughter when he whacks her. But she does calm down, enough to start speaking, at least. "Hey, you gotta be prepared, no matter where you are. I spent a month drilling that into people's heads, and now it's in yours, too." Not that she went around tackling them. But she leans forward, a cheerful grin on her face as she reaches over to give Simon a good-natured pat on the shoulder.

"But look at you! Pale and cold. But alive! When I heard you guys went off to Nevarra, I expected to come back t' half the Inquisition shambling around."