faderift | MOD EVENT: WINTERMARCH WINTER MARCH

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MOD EVENT: WINTERMARCH WINTER MARCH

WHO: Anyone & Everyone
WHAT: Winter adventures as Riftwatch heads up into the Vinmark Mountains to do some work for (Provisional) Viscount Bran of Kirkwall
WHEN: Throughout Wintermarch and early Guardian
WHERE: Vinmark Mountains
NOTES: OOC post

Still-Provisional Viscount Bran has received a number of requests for aid from communities in the Vinmark mountains outside Kirkwall. He wants to keep them happy so that they continue to pay taxes to Kirkwall and don't become problematically independent or allied with some other state. But he also doesn't want to deal with this shit, and the City Guard isn't really equipped to go tromp around the mountains in the winter. So he has asked Riftwatch to deal with this, casting it as a shared danger (if any communities were to break away, they'd be more vulnerable to enemy collaboration, or hampering travel through the passes, and things like that) but if necessary will imply that Riftwatch's refusal would weigh unfavorably against the decision to allow them to remain in the Gallows for free.

This work isn't done at the exclusion of all else--other normal (and especially high-priority) work continues. Any work that isn't especially time-sensitive may be postponed, and otherwise agents will simply have to forfeit their free time and fit this work in on top of their other responsibilities. Something for people to complain about while they're tromping through the snow.

It's not a long trip back and forth to the Gallows, so people can come and go if they want, but Bran has also agreed to allow Riftwatch the use of the Viscount's hunting lodge, a rustic mountain retreat traditionally used for hunting parties, which happens to be in a roughly central location. As Viscount Bran is both Provisional and profoundly not the sort of man who holds hunting parties, the lodge has gone unused for some years now, and Riftwatch is bringing in its own supplies and a skeleton support staff to man the place for the duration. Those traveling up in the first group will have to help escort supply wagons through snowy, muddy mountain roads, unloading casks and crates into the cellar, and pitch in cleaning, making minor repairs, and generally getting the building set up after a decade of neglect.

The lodge is organized around a central hall with a massive fireplace, and a small library and study that will be used as offices shared between those visiting. Up the grand wood stair is a mezzanine level that looks down on the hall and leads to three corridors, each with a couple rooms. Rooms will be shared by groups of 2-4 people, the exception being the two suites generally reserved for the viscount and his wife, which will now be assigned to whichever of the Division Heads are in residence (and if there are more than two at a time, then to whichever Division Heads win a coin toss or something). Each room has basic furnishings, heavy and rustic, and its own fireplace. Bathing facilities are communal, provided by natural hot springs pools. While these are outdoors, there is a roof, and there is also a small springhouse alongside for changing, as well as a separate sauna.

The stables contain a number of sleighs in varying states of repair, which can be signed out for use. They're often the best way to get around this area in winter, and can be pulled by a team of Vinmark Goats, a big-horned shaggy breed of unusually massive mountain goats that are often used in place of ponies in this part of the world. The Viscount had a herd of them, which has since run more or less wild on his land and will need to be rounded back up for use.

There are a few communities with different problems, spread out some ways apart through the mountains:

ICE RIFT: The village of Erith has been plagued by shades and despair demons, which can be traced to a rift that has opened under the thick mid-winter ice of the frozen lake just outside town. Trying to get at it from above would mean cutting into the ice and fighting off demons while underwater and very likely freezing to death in minutes. So instead they'll need to traverse the ice caves beneath the lake to reach it, which will be complicated by the nature of shades, which leech off the energy of the livings' psyche, causing confusion, fatigue, and fear.
SNOWMONSTERS: Cragfield has been cut off by an infestation of what's only been described as "snowmonsters," that have been harrying travelers around the village or anyone who strays too far from the edge of town. They will prove to be some unknown variation of giant, even more aggressive, though a bit smaller and nearly covered in white hair. They have some resistance to magic, especially ice magic, and one seems capable of using ice magic, if crudely. They can be tracked through the forest and picked off a few at a time, or traced back to one of their lairs, usually in a cave or tucked into a rock formation.
THE GRIPPE: Galssop has sent an urgent request for healers to help combat a particularly virulent strain of the illness many in Kirkwall are suffering. Most of the town has fallen victim to it, including their only healer, leaving the rest without care. Complicating matters, reaching the town in winter (especially while transporting supplies) requires traveling up the frozen Wye river, using skates and iceboats. The villagers there will be wary of magical healing, and Bran as urged trying to use non-magical means of healing first if possible, though he and the sick will ultimately come round to the necessity of using some magic rather than see dozens die.
THE GRINCH: Lerwick's trouble is a young man who recently inherited Touraigle, the fortress above the village, and who firmly believes that Lerwick is also his inheritance. When the Mayor of Lerwick refused to enforce Lord Bertrand's taxes, the lord's guards ransacked the town, helping themselves to most of its winter stores, among other things. Riftwatch diplomats have been asked to help entreat the lord to be reasonable and return what he took. But the road up to the castle has been blocked by a combination of overzealous defenses and weather, forcing all visitors to climb a treacherous hill of downed trees covered in ice and the occasional, possibly-frozen (if they're lucky), booby trap.

In addition to these specific issues, Rift Watchers can expect to encounter the usual Vinmark winter hazards: unpredictable weather, hungry animals, bad roads, scarcities, and so forth. Once news of their presence in the mountains gets around, they may be asked to take on similar small problems for others, like dealing with wildlife issues, helping search for a missing child, rescuing a hunting party trapped by a minor avalanche, etc. There are also basic chores to keep the lodge running that will always need extra hands, like chopping firewood, hunting down dinner, safeguarding supplies on their way to and from Kirkwall, and so on.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Dunno. Could be to do with the Rift, yeah? Maybe this is something that happens. I've only ever seen a few of 'em myself, and none of them below a lake."

He stops when he's a few steps beneath the shimmering frozen ceiling. It feels more than a bit daring to be under it. A risk, like. The blueish light colors him blue as well--even his hands are tinted blue, when he peels off his gloves and holds them out in front of him to see. Matthias grins, pleased with the effect.

"If I gave it some fire, d'you think it'd melt, and all come crashing down?"

Her first reaction is to boggle at him. Are you insane?! But then her expression turns thoughtful and she looks up.

"Maybe. Or maybe it'd only melt a hole and the rest would stay up. Or maybe the lake itself isn't frozen, and just the top and these caves are, and if you melted any of this, we'd get pummeled with the contents of the lake and drown."

"But if we got out of the way," Matthias counters, wise and all-knowing, and accurately reading the thoughtful turn Athessa's expression has taken, "like if we went back there--might be able to get a spell off sort of blind, even. I've done it in the dark, and sort of around corners--obstructed vision--"

A very official-sounding term, that. He squints back up at the ice.

"Maybe just a bit. A tiny bit of fire. 'Cause how else will we know what this is? We can't very well go back and say, oi, we found a mysterious cave what was empty of water and we think it was beneath the lake but we dunno how it was happening--that wouldn't be useful."

"Neither would going back saying oi, we found a mysterious cave what was empty of water and decided to destroy it to see what would happen," she imitates his accent, not too far off from her own but more rural-sounding. "You know what would be useful, is if we found out where these...ice caves, where they go first. We can melt them later."

One last look up at the luminescent ceiling and she nudges him, leading the way further down the tunnel.

Matthias casts one last look up as well, letting the bluish glow bathe his face. It'd be easy, to break it apart. But Athessa's right, of course. It would be stupid. He sighs, and follows after her, into the tunnel.

"S'ppose it's a good idea, seeing where these go. Only when'd you get to be so sensible?"

Athessa considers quipping back with what, like I wasn't sensible before? but she knows she wasn't. Instead, she shrugs as she walks, not turning to walk backwards like she'd really like to because this new, sensible elf knows she's just asking to fall if she does.

"Since being un-sensible makes me a liability and a disappointment," said quite lightly, blithely even, as if it's good news and not soul-crushing at all! Which, paradoxically, says more about how soul-crushing it actually was to hear.

He snorts. The cold makes a little cloud of his breath. "You what?"

The tunnel twists, and their path with it, leaving the blue glow of the ice at their backs, casting only the dimmest light, and then--another twist to their way, and it's gone entirely, as if it had never been.

Matthias turns a look back over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the light. "Isn't Riftwatch full of liabilities?"

"Yeah, well," for her part, Athessa is looking ahead, keeping a watch out for baddies and more ice with her special eyes. So far, suspiciously good. "I guess I was just unlucky enough to be complained about, then."

The further into the cave system they go, the colder it gets, and the quieter. Where there is bare stone, their voices echo, and whatever shades and demons they happen upon are announced by their racket before they can be seen, but anywhere with ice ends up strangely muffled. Unnaturally muffled.

"You hear that?" Athessa asks, stopping and angling her head to try and get a sense of where the sound of running water is coming from.

Matthias has managed--against all odds--to keep rather quiet as they've gone. Partly because talking will spoil their position and give them away, and partly because he's been turning over Athessa's answer in his head as they've walked along. Who would complain about Athessa? And to who would they do the complaining?

Wait, what?

"Is it water?" Matthias stops walking and stares suspiciously up at the ceiling. There's nothing there. No more ice hanging weirdly over them. "It's not dripping. Sounds like a stream, or something? Like... Well, there's underground streams and rivers and things, right? Lakes where the fish haven't got any eyeballs. That sort of thing. I've heard about it."

There's only the way they've come from, and the way forward. But there might be other caves beside them, somehow. Like rooms. Matthias gnaws on the inside of his lip. "Can you tell which direction it's in? We could just... keep on forward, like. It's only water."

She levels a flat look at him.

"Matty. We're under a lake." So yeah, of course it's water. But the chances of it being an underground river? Slim. "Any underground river is gonna be the lake melting into the caves, so it better not be an underground river, yeah? Anyway. It doesn't sound like very much water so we're probably fine? But still keep an eye out for those eyeless fish."

The ground ahead slopes upwards ever so slightly, which makes the next leg of their trek a little treacherous thanks to, ya know, all the ice.

A little color comes into Matthias' face, and it has nothing to do with the cold. "Well--yeah. Yeah, I know. I mean, I know, just that--there's no water here, so it's not very lakey at all, is it? More like--I dunno."

He can feel how warm his face has got, and getting warmer. Impatiently, he shrugs one shoulder up and rubs his cheek against it, as it to scrub the flush from his face, scowling all the while. Stupid.

He's so busy with this that he doesn't notice the slope as well as he ought to. As he switches shoulders and cheeks--right side now, scrubbing angrily--he steps wrong, and there's the ice, and now he's bloody well fallen. He tries to catch himself, but only ends up smacking his knees against the ice and grit of the tunnel--and the wind gets knocked out of him--and he slides down the short distance he'd managed to follow. Cursing, he begins trying to stand up again, using his staff as leverage. The string of swearwords and the furious mumbled apologies he gets out in between pretty well cover the sound of the dripping water.

No eyeless fish yet, at least.

Athessa stifles a laugh.

"You okay?" And then she gestures to the side of the tunnel she'd walked on. "Try that side, there's not as much ice." Or maybe she's just got better grip because she's barefoot.

"How are we supposed to close a rift that's under water anyway? Like, I get that we have to reach it through these caves, but...it's at the bottom of the lake, not in some cave, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Matthias mumbles, furious with himself. It's a response to both questions: yeah, he's okay, and then yeah, he sees it now. The lack of ice. Mostly he trusts Athessa to take the piss out of him to his face, not lord about it to someone behind his back. And he'll be all right with being called a clod, once he's pride has recovered. Just, it sucks, doesn't it.

Anyways. His knees smart a little and the heels of his hands are a bit hot where he'd caught himself on the grit and ice of the floor, but he's following after her now, up the other side of the tunnel, keeping close to the wall to avoid further disaster. And they can move on.

"I thought it'd be like-- I dunno. Maybe the demons would come out of the water. And then they could be fought on the shore, and one of the shard-bearers could close it up. Here," and this has been bothering him, "what is it we're meant to do once it's found anyways. 'Cause I haven't got a shard. Do we mark it on a map and go back, or just, like--give a yell? Wait round the corner and hope the demons don't realize we're there? I thought someone would say before we left, but they didn't say to me."

"They didn't tell me, either. Here, roll this between your palms," For once, the elfroot she has on her isn't all dried and primed for smoking. She hands him a couple of leaves, which should release some nice pain-relieving oil and juices when crushed.

"Maybe there'll be another ice bubble cave thing conveniently right below the rift, and we can...do something. Maybe we just need to fight off the nasties from below while someone up top closes the rift?" Athessa squints,her pace slowing just a tad. "This doesn't seem very well planned at all."

Matthias, without question, accepts the leaves, pulls his gloves off with his teeth, then does as he's told. Habit, that. He's spent whole months of his life walking in a column and accepting whatever herbs and plants handed back to him that's meant to help with pain or injury or weird rash or toothache or something else that's befallen him.

Only as he's rolling the leaves around between his hands (a little sticky) and listening to Athessa's speculations (all possibilities), a thought comes to him. It's a little horrible. He's still holding his gloves between his teeth, and his staff is pinched in the crook of his arm and pressed flat to his chest so he can contort himself and rub his hands together without dropping it. This leaves him very little space to tell her the horrible thought he's just had, and he isn't sure that he wants to, but once his hands are free and he can pluck his gloves out of his mouth--

"I think it's my fault." Shit. A memory of some lists are coming to mind now. His own cramped handwriting, tiny letters, painstakingly neat, done up a third time so as to be presentable. Flint hasn't ever critiqued his handwriting. Matthias isn't even sure that he's looked at it, properly. But what if he does? "I think I was meant to requisition some Rifters, or-- a Rifter, or a shard-bearer, or-- oh, shit."

That brings her pace to a full stop. She should have questioned it, when it was just her and Matty going into the caves. She should have questioned it before then, questioned it from the start. Rather than blaming Matthias for it, she feels responsible, and ashamed that Yseult was right about her. She really doesn't think things through, does she?

"It's not your fault, Matty," she says, fishing her crystal out from under her hood. "Either one of us should've thought of that sooner. Any Rifters or shard-bearers topside?" The last, spoken into the crystal, her other arm crossing over her middle to support her elbow and offer some slight additional warmth.

"Hel-lo?"

From some unknown location, ostensibly topside, comes the clear cut voice of a relative but not total stranger. "I am one, and I've one in easy reach. What can I do for you?"

"Hello! This is Athessa, me and Matty are in the caves beneath this stupid fucking rift in the lake and neither of us can close a rift," Her tone is decidedly chipper, despite the swearing and unfortunate circumstance. "If we fight the shades and demons down here, will that be enough distraction for you to close the rift from above?"

"Who is it? What're they saying?"

Matthias, having surfaced briefly from his despair, is now doing the thing where he crowds in close and tries to overhear but also keeps talking, thereby drowning out the useful responses. Also, he has a crystal of his own. Also if he would only shut up, he could hear hers.

Details. Also, it really is his fault. There will be time for that later. Matthias cranes his neck to try to peer ahead of them, but there's just darkness there. No weird light or growling. Not yet, anyways.

"I think we're close, though--are they close? To the lake?"

"Easy--Get off!" When palming his face to push him away doesn't deter his crowding, she gets him in a headlock. All this rough-housing, broadcasting to Loxley because she didn't switch the crystal off to subdue Matthias.

"I don't remember his name, I think he's one of the new Rifters," she answers, quietly and exasperatedly. "And I dunno. He might've said but I definitely couldn't hear him, could you?"

"--without drowning. Are-- you still there?"

Is what Loxley is saying. Given the twin voices nattering on the other end of the line, he gamely tries again.

"I was advised reaching the rift from above the lake was impossible on account of the ice and very cold water and such, but we're close, if you've a. Plan."

Slightly uncertain on that leap of faith. But on the upside, it sounds like he is moving.

"Yeah, sorry uh--hold that thought," This time she does switch the crystal off before talking to Matty, not sure if her idea is even feasible.

"Matty, if we get under the rift and it's another one of those ice bubbles like before, and you shot a big blast of fire directly upwards, would you be able to make the fire hot enough to blast the water out of the way? Or turn it to steam? Actually, now that I'm saying it out loud that seems stupid, nevermind." Back to the crystal: "It's probably best if you come down into the caves, then, let me know when you get to the opening so I can guide you along the path we took."

Which she does. It's probably very smoothly done, no mistakes or miscommunications made, and doesn't take any time at all.

Just kidding.

But eventually, Matthias and Athessa both hear the echoed sounds of footsteps. Distinctly different to the scraping, scuffling, erratic movements of shades or terrors. Maybe a touch unusually, there's no telling glimmer of firelight to guide their way through the dark tunnels and caves.

But over Athessa's crystal, and then also as a dim echo beyond--

"Al-right. We ought to be close."

“This might be the worst thing you’ve ever asked me to do.”

Richard’s voice is muffled both by his muttering and by the little bit of distance they still have to close. The trod of his step is sharper, steady and wet, deliberate as only the twice or thrice fallen can be while still making good time over icy gravel and icy rock and icy ice.

The arc of ichor he flicks off the end of his dagger crosses down over Loxley’s boots beside him, probably not entirely accidentally.

Matthias has spent the wait engaged in one of five pursuits: chatting at Athessa, staring fixedly at her crystal, staring fixedly at the darkness of either end of the tunnel, concentrating very hard on not pacing, and pacing. He is doing the third of these when he hears the voices. Like a dog on instant alert, he shoves off from the rock he was just sitting on and dashes off to meet the Rifter.

"Hey!" --a sort of stage whisper, in case the rift really is as close as he thinks it might be. Those aforementioned five pursuits had all been underpinned by that ambient and terrible thought: a rift right around the corner, a squillion demons to fight, and them without a Rifter. "Here! We're up here! Took them ages--"

This last bit is to Athessa. Matthias stands anxiously on his toes, trying to catch a glimpse of approaching light that will announce the arrival of their aid. Faced with only blackness, he tries widening his eyes.

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(feel free to time skip to after the walkthrough but don't feel pressured to do so etc etc etc)

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