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

[bouchonne]

"They are quite fine, aren't they?" Byerly responds. He tips his head back and flares them, just so Bastien can get a really good look. (Blame the dry mountain air for the fact that they're definitely not clean of boogers.) "Large enough to accommodate the pleasant scents, but not so massive as to be excessively tuned into the worst ones."

He interlocks his fingers with Bastien's, then, pulling that arm tighter about him.

"I'll return a comment about your earlobes. They're most pleasing. I simply cannot abide people with attached earlobes, and so yours are a breath of fresh air."

[cozen]

“They were attached when I was born,” Bastien says in a confessional hush, “but once I could walk I was dragged around by them so often, you see—“

His free hand tugs Byerly’s ear to illustrate them being stretched (nonsense, obviously) by years of being escorted out of places he was not meant to be. Then it settles onto the side of his neck, thumb against his jaw to tilt his head here and there, examining pieces of his face as if to search for the next thing worthy of comment.

Maybe this is time Bastien should be using to think about important things, like: could this possibly have anything to do with Ferelden security. Is this Byerly unmasked, or Byerly with a particular mask worn for his benefit. Will Alexandrie somehow know and send assassins. Does Byerly need a reminder that he’s fully on the hook if this sort of thing interferes with the thing they already have. Should Bastien really kiss a man so soon after seeing the contents of his nose. What sort of standard is that setting.

But sometimes things are simple—games, maybe, still, but games of chase instead of chess. So really he’s just thinking about a spot where Byerly’s eyebrow hair is charmingly out of order.

[bouchonne]

And Byerly - all Byerly is thinking about is his overwhelming fondness for Bastien. For once, his mind isn't going; he's not searching for ulterior motives or wicked intent. All he's doing is enjoying the closeness and his friend's warmth, all the more appealing in this frigid home.

He purses his lips, and lowers his eyelashes, setting his face into a mockery of a nubile lady's pout. "Well?" he prompts. "Tell me something gorgeous about me." He settles his chin into Bastien's hands, lips pursed. "There's so much to choose from, no?"

[cozen]

“Ouais, c'est accablant,” Bastien says, with the sort of drawling indulgence that marks hyperbole rather than outright sarcasm. “How about: I put down my book to make room for your face.”

High praise. Higher than a kiss, really, as far as Bastien goes. But that’s coming, too. While he goes on he’s shifting, anchoring an elbow to the ground, lifting his head to get closer.

“And now every moment I spend looking at your cheekbones or your—“ What’s the word. “—ridiculous eyelashes, that is a moment I continue not knowing if the heroine will kill the outlaw who murdered her fiancé, or discover he is the lost heir and her fiancé was the villain all along. The story could really go either way. It is right on the edge of resolution. And I am putting up with this instead.”

The last bit might be more convincingly aggrieved if it weren’t begun with a smile and finished right against Byerly’s mouth, where Bastien stays—off center, mouth parted just enough for his front teeth to touch By’s bottom lip, pausing to wait for an answer.

[bouchonne]

Oh. It is a surprise. Which is perhaps foolish. After all, he and Bastien have spent the past few minutes actively and aggressively flirting with one another, and Byerly is lying atop him, and Bastien's affections are not reserved for women, and, and, and. Yet it's still rather unexpected. Because, well - how long has it been since By was last kissed by someone he liked? Someone he really, truly enjoyed? Someone without ulterior motive -

Well. Maybe without ulterior motive.

But Byerly shoves that thought away. He doesn't wish to indulge it. Instead, he wishes to push in, lips parting, kissing Bastien back with shameless, cheerful boldness, involving the tongue right off the bat.

[cozen]

Bastien exhales in a burst, the stunted cousin of a laugh, something similar to relief even though he hadn't been at all nervous—even though he would, in fact, be a little put out to know that Byerly might have thought anything else could come of lying on top of a man and pouting that way. But the pressing mouth and sliding tongue aren't any less pleasant just because he was counting on them. Like sinking into a chair after a long time on his feet.

His attempts to chase Byerly's tongue back aren't sloppy, exactly, but they are lazy and playful, and after a few seconds he sucks on it outright—taking it prisoner, and not trying even a little to be sexy about it—long enough to lower his head the few inches back to the rug, with his hand slid around to the back of Byerly's head just to make doubly sure he comes along instead of pulling away.