MOD EVENT: WINTERMARCH WINTER MARCH

[faderifting]

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.

Comments

[rathercommon]

Kitty hadn't entirely expected great gouts of flame, admittedly. She'd been anticipating something more like - oh, levitating them out of the snow. Something safe and controlled. But after she overcomes her surprise and fear, she notes that this is working; and so she swallows any sign of dismay and gets to helping.

"Watch out," she says when the one head pops up from the snow. "You're going to burn him. Bend the fire away from him." And also - "Over to the right, there - I think there might be someone there. Get a bit more fire going there. You're doing brilliant, Matthias, you're brilliant."

And, when that villager starts towards them, Kitty puts herself firmly between him and Matthias, jaw set, ready to intercept any and all rage.

[inkindled]

"Make him stop," the man calls, before he's even gotten close to them. "He's got to stop. Now. We don't want none of this--"

The knot of people gathered around the disaster are divided. Half are wading forward into the melting snow, grabbing for hands as they come exposed. The other half are looking over, craning their necks to watch the unfolding scene. A murmuring begins to circulate their number, muffled by the snowfall and the trees that crowd close from the surrounding wood. The pitch of it isn't good.

Matthias is still concentrating, keeping the flames high but not towering, hovering them above the snow instead of letting them carve down and plow through. Sweat stands out on his brow and his mouth is very dry. Kitty's guidance has helped him. Now that she's stepped off to address this challenge, he can feel his certainty flag. He darts a glance at her, but she's turned away from him, standing ground.

The man strides right up to Kitty, undaunted. A finger of dread is pressed at the back of Matthias' neck, but he has to look away again. He has to keep focused on the fire.

"We can handle our own," the villager says, loudly. His coat is lined with pelts, stitched heavily under oilskin. Red stands on his cheeks, two angry marks, and his voice is a growl. "Make your mage stop."

[rathercommon]

A hint of color comes into Kitty's cheeks. Your mage doesn't sit well with her, though she'd be hard-pressed to say why. For Matthias' sake? For her own?

But she doesn't let her temper go. She holds onto it with both hands. And she thrusts her chin up, and returns, levelly, "Look to your people, Serah. Look - they're pulling them out."

And she takes a risk now. She steps forward to meet him, and grasps his wrist, and really really hopes she's not going to get a backhand across her face for her trouble. "Come on. Let's go help, yeah? Look, they're okay."

[inkindled]

They really are okay. More of the others are wading up into the melt, grasping the reaching hands and pulling, freeing those once trapped. Shouts and calls ring on the air, industrious instead of angry, or indignant. There's still a murmur circulating, but only a little group is still watching: a mage with his staff, the bearded man walking up to a girl, who takes him by the wrist.

The man's face reddens, and he pulls away. To his dubious credit, he doesn't backhand Kitty. Instead he shoves her, hard, in the shoulder, hard enough to off-put her, or maybe send her stumbling back.

"I said get him," he snaps, "and I won't say it again. If they're okay, we don't need none of this anymore."

Matthias risks a glance at the two of them, his concentration wavering again. The fresh line of fire waver too, a minor blip that he is quick to correct. He's been taking it in turns, melting one furrow and then moving to the next as those first flames die. No more than two burning while the third is dying out. One of the rescued comes up with his face shiny and red, and his friends are quick to fetch him. The snow steams as they tromp through it, as the line of the fire recedes from their steps. Matthias risks another look, worry pinching his face.

[rathercommon]

The shove makes her stumble back almost enough to fall on her arse. Under normal circumstances, she'd be coming right back at the man, getting right up in his face. But there's too much going on right now to indulge her anger.

So. Kitty looks to Matthias, and back at the snow. Are they out yet? Is everyone rescued? No; not quite yet, she thinks. There are people out there still searching; that means there are people out there still buried. Not many. Maybe just one or two. But they've got to keep on for a minute more.

"Just focus," she murmurs to him encouragingly. "I'm all right. And you're almost there. See? Nearly everyone's out."

The danger of the man, Kitty knows, isn't physical. The danger of him is emotional. Control of magic is such an emotion-based thing. If she keeps trying to placate him, and he keeps being aggressive, Matthias is likely to get properly distracted. So after a moment of consideration, she takes a breath, and sets her feet, and turns back to the man with a grim smile on her face and a new hardness in her eyes.

"If you touch me again," she says to him, "I'm going to start crying, and then you'll be known to your entire village as the man who hits crying little girls. Everyone's already looking at you. They'll all see. It'll take you a long time to live that reputation down." Then, a little less sharply - "Magic is made to serve man. This is how we're serving you and your people."

[inkindled]

That one actually wrong-foots the villager. Belligerence, he's prepared for. Arguments, a fight, throwing weight around--he can manage that. The threat of tears is something else. He at last looks uncertain, and darts a glance back toward the others--but there are fewer of them paying attention to their scene now, which means less support for him, and a higher chance that some sobbing girl will be able to make a new scene that will captivate.

Matthias has kept darting looks to them as well, at turns emboldened by Kitty's assurance and wary that something worse will happen while he's at work. He senses the moment that the power shifts between them, even through his concentration he can sense it--the villager pulling back, Kitty getting firmer, and stronger--like they're stood on two rocks, and some force has pushed at Kitty's, and given her the higher ground. The world feels like this when he's deep in. Like dreaming in the Fade might be, like he can see threads pulling at people. Or maybe that's his imagination, some old fuzz from being a child with a stupid soft brain.

In any case. He's better, now that there's no threat. Keeps the fire moving, raked over the snow, carefully skirting the rescuers and the imperiled until--count it--they're all free. And they're all breathing--there's injuries here and there, broken legs, someone with a blood all down his face and front--but they're alive, and everyone is calling to one another joyfully, digging those last few out of the snow. Matthias lets the last of the fire fizzle out, and go. His arms feel like they're full of water and his knees feel weak. He stays standing anyways.

The bearded man has stood nearby this whole time, like maybe he's thinking he'll act if either of them try anything. Now that it's over, he tries to recover some, and turns back to Kitty.

"You clear off now," he says, gruffly.

[rathercommon]

And Kitty, in response, looks at him, and then turns away. If he hasn't done anything at this point, she fancies, he will not do anything at all; he's proven himself to be both short-sighted and cowardly. So he simply doesn't matter. If he's not going to hurt them or hurt Matthias - and if he's not going to apologize for his fear and wrongheadedness - he's not even worth paying attention to any longer.

"You did brilliant," Kitty says, reaching out and grasping Matthias' arm. The gesture is half-congratulations, half-support; he looks like he's about to fall over. "That was so brilliant. Come on; I expect you're going to be needing some soup or tea or something, yeah? You look half dead."

And she tugs on his elbow, pulling him away from the crowd. What should be happening is that those people should be scrambling over to kiss his hands (and hers, for that matter) in gratitude for what they've done. But that's not how life works. You only get thanked if you do the right thing in the socially-sanctioned manner. So you've just got to make sure that people like him know when they're doing right, even if you've got to personally handle every bit of appreciation yourself.

[inkindled]

Matthias sways into Kitty's grip. His staff is loose in his hand. He grabs at it, tighter, as she pulls at him, and without protest he lets himself be led.

But like a stone in the boot, there is something about this that rubs at the inside of his head, and worries. He did it. He freed them, or made it so they might be freed. And he feels thick, and tired, like he could lay down here and get some sleep--and no one cares. Kitty cares. She's saying nice things anyways, but it all feels quite far off, and Matthias turns to look back over his shoulder. The narrow tunnel of his vision focuses on the bearded man who is walking away from them, stiff and proud.

It's over. He can go back now. All he has to do is follow Kitty, who is his friend, who got shoved for standing next to him, for trying to placate the bastard. And all because they were here to save the others. It hurts, this stone. It festers. And so for himself, and for Kitty, and for mages and Rifters and anyone that gets treated like an animal. To satisfy the itch. It's petty. He doesn't care. He summons the last of what he has, and lets it loose.

A wall of force passes over the snowy path--swift, brutal. It slams into the villager's back like a herd of rampaging druffalo, fierce and blind and cruel. The man is bowled forward. Matthias has turned away before he hits the ground. He isn't looking anywhere at all, when the pained shout rings out.