lethevale_mods: (Default)
Lethevale Mods ([personal profile] lethevale_mods) wrote in [community profile] lethevale2016-10-30 10:20 pm

{GAME OPENING} the old life blowing and roaring

Who: Everyone!
Where: The whole of Lethevale
When: October 31st, from mid-afternoon onwards
What: A storm, a town, and a beginning.
Warnings: TBC

The storm blows in apparently from nowhere, on a cold October afternoon. The bright autumn sunlight is blotted out within moments by thick, roiling black clouds, shrouding the mountains in shadow, and a cool breeze quickly becomes a howling gale. In Lethevale, and the countryside all around, windows are shuttered and lanterns lit, and townsfolk wrap themselves in blankets and huddle by the fire to wait out the storm. The inns set lights at their windows, and wait for a night's business - probably a poor one, with so many huddled in their homes.

Not everyone's so lucky. There are plenty of travellers on the road, and why not - until the storm came in, today looked set to be a fine day for journeying.

By the time the sun goes down, an hour or so into the storm, the lashing rain has become hail, stones of ice a good inch across thudding into the wet loam. Lightning flashes in the sky, and when the thunder rolls, it echoes against the mountains, coming back on itself over and over again so that it seems to last forever. This is no time to be outside. Better seek shelter, and company, if you're trapped out on the road.
insufficientjewel: (Hunted)


[personal profile] insufficientjewel 2016-10-31 10:08 pm (UTC)(link)
The weather is still fine enough when Francis reaches the edge of the woods, and he sees no reason to worry even when the rain begins to fall, assuming it's a brief squall at worst. And if it were only the rain, he would make Lethevale town by nightfall.

It's not the rain, but the lightning, that does for him. It strikes so close he can smell it, and the sound is deafening. Almost as deafening is his horse's scream, and the crash of the blasted fir tree that falls into the road a few feet ahead.

The horse rears, and Francis cries out as, thrown from the saddle, he lands hard in the mud, sharp pain shooting through his arm. Still, even half-stunned from the fall, his reflexes are sharp, and he's on his feet again in a moment, chasing after his horse as it bolts.

Wonder of wonders, he catches it - finds it shying and whinnying unhappily in a little clearing. But by that time, they're far from the road, and, he fears, quite lost.

For the next several hours, he's wandering in the worsening weather, cold and wet, leading his now-limping horse through the thick woodland. When he sees a light, or hears a voice above the chaos of the storm, he'll head for it at once, praying for a fellow-traveller who might lead him back to the road.
savethetalk: (Headache)

[personal profile] savethetalk 2016-11-01 01:36 am (UTC)(link)
It wasn't that Syrenne had never spent the night out in the woods, or even having done so in the rain. However, when the weather did change and she somehow got turned around in the chaos of the sudden torrents of rain she cursed quite a bit at not having already reached the town where she had been heading. Oddly enough she didn't remember leaving the road just that the storm seemed to suddenly blow up from now where and that she didn't have a much money to her name or a place to stay yet. That had been riding on finding a job or something to hunt when she had gotten the Lethevale.

Syrenne could have sworn she had seen a lady, but the woman had vanished before she could call out. And then there had been the howl that followed shortly there after. Already thouroughly drenched she ran a hand through her hair as she let out another string of profanities about the weather.

"Won't do much good to make it to an inn if I'm already half drowned."

At least she had managed to stumble her way back in the right direction by something.

"First thing I'm going to do is get something to drink. And then something to eat, I'm hungry enough to eat a horse."

Though as the rain got colder it wasn't a good sign and she was having a bit of trouble figuring if she could bother with the lamp at all.
insufficientjewel: (Darkness)

[personal profile] insufficientjewel 2016-11-01 05:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Francis sent up a silent prayer of thanks as the wind carried a voice to his ears - a clear voice, not only the howling gale and the thunder. Squinting into the darkness, he cast around for several moments before spotting a dim figure in the rain, a flicker of lantern-light.

"Hai!" He stumbled towards the sound and the light, raising one arm and waving to draw attention to himself. His horse trailed alongside him, head hanging low, hooves dragging unhappily, but Francis himself had found a new lease of energy at the thought of company, perhaps even of directions. "Hai, here! Wait for me!" Then, because the manners drummed into him at the orphanage had never left, he added conscientiously, "...please!"
savethetalk: (Really)

[personal profile] savethetalk 2016-11-03 02:27 am (UTC)(link)
Syrenne paused for a moment when the voice first cried out, wondering if they were actually anywhere near and to make out just where it came from. When it sounded like the other man was actually approaching she held the lantern back a little to get a better look before taking a few steps towards him.

Seeing him walk up with a horse she laughed a bit, looking him over.

"You know I didn't mean it literally. Don't tell me you decided to go wandering off in this kind of weather, you'd have to be half mad."

Shouldering her own back to adjust the weight a bit and keep from sinking too far into the mud she glanced in the direction she'd been heading.

"So did you get lost, or just out for a little ride?"
insufficientjewel: (Alone)

[personal profile] insufficientjewel 2016-11-03 09:35 pm (UTC)(link)
"Lost," Francis admitted, without hesitation (though with a touch of embarrassment). "My horse was spooked. I lost the road."

He'd clearly been out in the storm for some time, anyway. He was drenched from head to toe, muddy and shivering, the colour drained from his brown skin. He cleared his throat, shifting his grip on the reins. "I, ah, I was looking for a place near here. Or one I hope is near here, in any case - I'm afraid I've wandered a long way off-course, and fool that I am, I didn't bring a compass. Ah... Lethevale? Do you know it?"
savethetalk: (Default)

[personal profile] savethetalk 2016-11-04 01:49 am (UTC)(link)
"Good thing you've found it again, though there's not much cover from the rain here like the trees there. And I must not be lost since that's where I'm heading."

She looked back in the direction where she had been heading, there were a few lights able to be made out in the distance if for nothing more than a contrast to the grey darkness of the sky above.

"Even if you forgot a compass, hopefully you remembered to pack a set of fresh clothes. Otherwise any inn might not let you stay looking like that."
insufficientjewel: (Darkness)

[personal profile] insufficientjewel 2016-11-04 05:17 pm (UTC)(link)
"I have spare clothes, thank you, ma'am." He sounded as though he was being rather standoffish - his voice was stiff, even a little sharp - but if you were to tell him so, he would have been shocked at the idea. It wasn't rudeness fuelling his briskness, so much as exhaustion. "Whether they'll be dry enough to wear after this torrent, though..."

He trailed off, with a little half-shrug. Then, remembering his manners, he shifted the reins to his left hand (not without difficulty; that arm still ached and now was growing numb with cold as well as bruising) to put his hand out to shake.

"I'm Fletcher, by the way. Francis Fletcher. And you are?"
savethetalk: (Dangerous girl)

[personal profile] savethetalk 2016-11-06 02:15 pm (UTC)(link)
"At least they won't look like you've spent the night on the wrong end of the stables. And maybe this rain will wash a bit of it out before you get there."

Though it was rather annoying being soaked to the bone, there had been plenty of places that had turned her out due to her profession and affiliations. In a way she hoped that this place wouldn't do the same otherwise she might just freeze to death in this weather.

Still she grasped his hand firmly and gave a shake before looking back over her shoulder down the road and then back at the woods where a howl had come from.

"Syrenne. I suppose we should get going before something else out here decides to make a meal of that horse of yours."
insufficientjewel: (Darkness)

[personal profile] insufficientjewel 2016-11-06 03:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Francis smiled, thinly and wryly, and nodded. "We can hope," he agreed, shifting the reins back to his good hand. "God willing, I may look human again by the time we reach the town."

At the howl, he glanced back along the road, tightening his grip on the reins as his horse shifted uneasily. "I think you're right," he said grimly, and started walking, still limping a little. "Though it's a wonder there is anything else out, in this weather. I would have thought even the wolves would go to ground from this storm."
savethetalk: (Oh yeah)

[personal profile] savethetalk 2016-11-07 02:25 am (UTC)(link)
"Well the place is pretty creepy, and this storm seemed to come out of nowhere. There's not something quite right about it, but then there's no point in dwelling on it while the rain's falling on our head."

Just to be on the safe side, she did adjust her weapons just a little to ensure they'd be easy enough to get to in need be.

"Though what brings you this way? Can't be from around here if you're going off and getting lost."
insufficientjewel: (Lost)

[personal profile] insufficientjewel 2016-11-08 05:34 pm (UTC)(link)
"I've heard that storms can blow in very quickly, in regions as mountainous as this," Francis mused, but he sounded more doubtful than he cared to admit. In the course of his travels, he'd seen plenty of storms, and many of them abrupt - but a storm as bad from this, so suddenly and from such a clear sky, that was strange.

He was rather glad for the distraction of her question, shaking the thought off and clearing his throat. "I came to do some research for my employer. He was meant to accompany me, but alas, he was taken ill and the doctors recommended against travel. So, for now at least, I am to undergo this mission alone. Three months, I plan to stay in the region. And yourself?"
savethetalk: (Classy ass)

[personal profile] savethetalk 2016-11-09 02:33 am (UTC)(link)
"A bit of research, seems like a long ways to go to look through some old dusty books or something like that. Though I guess it does explain a little bit."

Like why he was covered in mud and was limping, since it was pretty obvious he'd been thrown from the horse. Maybe she'd be lucky and the whole place would be book nosed and she'd be able to charge whatever she wanted to keep the monsters out.

"Guess you could say I'm looking for work too. Though it's a bit more demanding that turning a page, and should help to keep the animals out of town."
insufficientjewel: (Default)

[personal profile] insufficientjewel 2016-11-09 05:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"It's fieldwork, not library research," Francis corrected her automatically, mildly but immediately. "I mean to observe local customs and discuss folklore with the people of the region." Realising she probably wasn't interested, he cleared his throat and looked back at her. "And you are... what, then? A trapper, or a hunter? Unusual line of work for a woman, I should have thought."
savethetalk: (Dangerous girl)

[personal profile] savethetalk 2016-11-11 04:12 am (UTC)(link)
"So you just came to listen to a bunch of stories and get to know the people, doesn't really sound much like research. Plenty of ghost stories and other tales anywhere you go."

At the remark about her work being unusual for a woman Syrenne gave him a glare from the side before waving the lantern a bit.

"What, just because I'm a woman I should be stuck at home, maybe working as a wench at a bar or something? I'll have you know I'm plenty tough and could take on any bloke that thinks otherwise. 'Sides being a mercenary takes a bit more than most men can handle anyways. And those that do get into it are usually the type that can't commit to anything else anyways."
insufficientjewel: (Shock)

[personal profile] insufficientjewel 2016-11-14 04:50 pm (UTC)(link)
"That isn't what I meant," Francis hastened to correct himself, blushing a little. "I ought to have phrased it differently... I meant no disrespect by it. I'm quite sure you're a good deal better at it than I or most men I know would be. I only meant that, well, it is unusual, in my experience, and rather admirable."

And that was the truth. It was difficult not to admire someone who was unwilling to be bound by the restrictions of society, at least restrictions which seemed to some degree unjust.
savethetalk: (Boss of you)

[personal profile] savethetalk 2016-11-16 02:37 am (UTC)(link)
"Don't go swallowing your words now. If you didn't mean it that way then you should have thought about it. If men would give half a thought to what comes out of their mouth things would be a lot more tolerable. And you bet I'm better at it than about anyone you know, I'm one of the best I'll 'ave you know."

Well she hadn't been killed yet, and usually didn't get herself into too much trouble; still that last bit might have been a bit over the top even for her.

"Anyways, don't go fretting over it or turning red just yet. We'll save that for when we reach town and you buy me a drink to make up for it."
insufficientjewel: (Default)

[personal profile] insufficientjewel 2016-11-16 08:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Francis smiled sheepishly, clearing his throat. "Certainly," he said, and tried not to think how that would deplete the coin in his pocket. He could afford one extra drink. It would hardly break his budget, though he might have to scrimp on food for a day or so.

He had to admit, he was more than a little ashamed, particularly by that first part. It had been a thoughtless kind of thing to say, and as a man who tended to believe that thinking before you spoke was crucial, that was particularly embarrassing. Perhaps it was a result of his exhaustion, but he wasn't willing to chalk it up to that. Better to consider it a learning experience, and work on it in the future.

Satisfied with that decision, he nodded a little and lengthened his stride. "Reaching town can hardly come too soon," he said aloud, his tone dry.
savethetalk: (Lean back)

[personal profile] savethetalk 2016-11-21 03:51 am (UTC)(link)
"Not enjoying the weather huh? I have to admit it's not a good sign for the start of things, but then again getting to not be the only unfamiliar face might help with things a bit. Sometimes people can be rather suspicious."

There had been more than a few times she'd been turned out or told there was no room simply because she was a bit different than others. Though it might have had to do with her profession as well. Either way, hopefully with someone else tagging along they wouldn't give her any hassle.

"You already have a room booked up somewhere?"

(no subject)

[personal profile] insufficientjewel - 2016-11-21 18:51 (UTC) - Expand
whofrownedthisface: (lists internally)

[for Calliope]

[personal profile] whofrownedthisface 2016-11-01 08:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Responsibility, is the word he keeps thinking in ominous tones, like a remembered warning delivered in a fortune teller's best sinister voice. Not that the Doctor would admit to finding the idea of responsibility frightening by any means. But here, in the middle of a storm-ridden forest, with a thoroughly enmired carriage abandoned an unknown distance behind them, and another unknown distance's worth of muddy slogging towards town left to go, it's likely the scariest thing he has to deal with, so far. It's just that he isn't used to it, to the idea that his mistakes or failings of forethought can have consequences for people outside himself. An idea that is fast sinking in, much like the wind-driven salvos of rain that keep escaping down through the leaves. This was supposed to be a pleasant trip, with only normal, healthy levels of inconvenience, the kinds that build character, presumably, in people who are susceptible to that sort of thing. It was definitely not meant to be anything so dire as this sodden trek through miserable dark woods, never an activity that provided any sort of edifying benefit to anyone except maybe poets. On top of that, he is starting to think they might have missed a turn in the road or taken a smaller trail by mistake. "I'm sure we're nearly to the edge of town," he says, hopefully believably and without obvious worry. What a horrible night to have a curse.
starlightcalliope: (troll: are yoU sUre)

[personal profile] starlightcalliope 2016-11-01 11:45 pm (UTC)(link)
If only it weren't quite so dreadfully cold, is the principal thought on Calliope's mind. She'd weathered many a storm in the darkness of her room under the orphanage roof, is perfectly familiar with the momentary heart-stopping alarm of each thunder crack close enough to rattle her bones, but at least she had been safe from the icy grasp of wind and rain, then. It is rather more difficult to imagine one leading negotiations with the North Wind when one's face and hands are numb. And when one has increasingly soggy skirts to drag through the mud.

At least she is wearing sturdy boots and a thick travelling frock, which is affording her a bit more freedom than some of the gowns tucked away in a trunk back on the carriage, but even they are beginning to get soaked in the increasingly heavy downpour, and she's struggling to keep the hems out of the worst of it. "That would be splendid," she replies to her grandfather's reassurance, striving for more optimism than she feels. It's hardly his fault that they were caught in the storm, and he must be as cold as she is. It wouldn't do to complain. But even so, "Can you see any lights yet?" She has her head lowered against the gale tearing at her droopy bonnet, fearing she might lose it and her hair along with it.
whofrownedthisface: (pointing in space)

[personal profile] whofrownedthisface 2016-11-03 07:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Actually, he thinks he does see a light, as if called into existence by her question. Small though, maybe just a lone house, belonging to some kind of forest...hermit. Or someone with a job involving trees. Those are all plausible. Probably not bandits; he doesn't think the area's traffic could support any, unless they've taken to robbing wildlife. Though, come to think of that, the word for that occupation is 'hunter,' isn't it. Anyway it would be worth a little robbery as long as he got to be robbed someplace warm and dry. And hopefully without any murder. That would be just today's luck.

The light seems to be moving, disconcertingly enough, blinking in and out of view. But surely there isn't anyone actually out in this with a lantern or a fire; probably just their own motion through the trees, causing the illusion. "There, look! I knew we had to be getting close," he says with some vindication. He can practically feel the warmth already, though the light doesn't seem to be getting any nearer or brighter yet. Still, what a relief, and how melodramatic all that internal worry seems now that the end is in sight. It lifts his spirits enough to set him chattering. "We may not be quite to town, but I'm sure we can spend the night there and press on in the morning. Storm like this, it'll burn itself out long before then. Surprised it's kept at it this long. Must have been corralled by the mountains, whipped up by the wet air off the river," he speculates like he knows anything about how weather works. But it sounds plausible, and that's the main thing. Establish a boundary of knowledge, that'll keep things optimistic.
starlightcalliope: (troll: !!!)

[personal profile] starlightcalliope 2016-11-03 09:29 pm (UTC)(link)
At his exclamation, she does look up to catch a brief glance of the distant, promising light between the trees. But immediately she feels the wild tug of the storm at her hair, along with an icy gust of raindrops on her face, so she hurries to keep her head lowered once more, trusting her grandfather to lead the way. How wonderful it will be to be out of the rain and rest in the safety of four sturdy walls! His explanation is a bit hard to follow, especially with the wind fiercely lashing the trees and creating an otherworldly howl above them, but it sounds reassuringly knowledgeable anyhow.

But all that reassurance and relief is shattered with the bright flash and deafening clap of a lightning strike, so close she can feel the ground shake. With a wee shriek of terror she jumps and presses close to him, heart racing and breath catching. How can such a vast forest be so oppressive, so encroaching, like something violent and hungry? "Blimey," she manages after a moment, trying in vain to dismiss the anxious tension in her bones. "Perhaps we ought to hurry? It, um, seems to be getting worse." She'd hate to be appear frightened, when they're meant to be on an adventure, but she reaches for his hand nonetheless. And it's surely only the cold that has her unable to stop shaking quite yet.
whofrownedthisface: (the fuck is that)

[personal profile] whofrownedthisface 2016-11-12 05:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Look at them both, just a pair of intrepid travelers who definitely didn't jump a mile out of their skins in fright over a thunderclap. Stupid storm, it had to go and give the lie to his words about being surprised it's still going strong. Personally he thinks storms should stick to what they do best, preferably someplace else, and not argue. This is dreadful, but how was he to know it was going to storm? And she wouldn't have liked being left behind, nor would she have been that much warmer, probably. The irrational panic of thunder and lightning blend surprisingly uniformly with the very rational panic of suddenly doubting all his decisions. He keeps a tight grip on her hand and does his best to hurry without winding up in the mud. The last thing they need is for him to dash his brains out on a rock. He shivers once very thoroughly, like a bird fluffing up its feathers. The light, at least, seems undeterred by the storm.

"Don't worry," he says for probably the thousandth time, and with a surprising lack of irritation. She's adventuring just fine. And she's survived worse than a little weather. That's probably not what you say though, right? How do you talk to children, he has no idea. Traumatised children! That have been dragged out into a positively apocalyptic storm. Well, enough about his mistakes. His mind, like the finely tuned instrument it is, can suggest only a few courses of conversational action for a stormy forest, and she probably isn't interested in ghost stories, having recently been the subject of one. "In the morning this will seem like a bad dream, like nothing at all. And then you can have breakfast. That's how it always goes, with unfortunate circumstances. They wind themselves down and become forgettable, and then you can have breakfast."
starlightcalliope: (troll: mUsing)

[personal profile] starlightcalliope 2016-11-14 08:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh yes, she'd suggested hurrying, hadn't she. Turns out she'd underestimated her grandfather's long determined strides and she's struggling to keep up as he's pulling her along, desperately hoisting up her bedraggled skirts with her free hand. The sooner they reach the light, the better.

It's good to be reminded that this will pass, that the world won't end in lightning and noise, and breakfast will be wonderful. "I'd like that," she agrees wistfully, probably too quietly to be heard above the din of the storm. Rallying a bit more vigor to her voice, she adds, "I fancy you must have experienced oodles of unfortunate circumstances in your adventures, much more adverse than a spot of rain." So he certainly knows what he's talking about. Her own ways of coping with frightful storms are perhaps rather silly in comparison, but hopefully somewhat diverting. "I used to imagine I could negotiate with the North Wind. I'd offer it a poem or a flattering illustration, or my next meal when I'd run out of ink. It was a bloody stubborn bugger, let me tell you."