Chapter 1: Of Iron and Ice.

The fire crackles merrily in the raised pit in the center of the room, and the door bangs open as someone enters, letting in a frigid blast of air, which practically hisses when it meets the warmed air of the interior. The tavern isn't terribly crowded, but then it is an unusually large specimen, and still manages to hold a fair few people, most of them nursing drinks, quietly talking or clearly just waiting for someone or something. Even in the relative shelter behind the city walls no one wishes to be out and about in the blizzard that hovers above the city, or the icy winds that scream down the streets.

It's not too long before sunset, when the real rush of people will come, seeking dinner, beds, and entertainment for a night, but until then the tavern is fairly subdued and running on a skeleton crew as most of the help has retreated into the kitchen.

At various tables and booths can be seen a rather mish-mashed grouping of people. The ferocity of the blizzard has managed to delay travel enough that those who would otherwise not stay an hour, have been here a day or more already. At one booth at a wall distant from the fires sit several men, a short pale Haslanti in a military uniform of some kind speaks and drinks with an elderly man dressed and decorated in the ways of the Icewalkers, an unusual pairing as the relationship between those two countries has begun to sour over the last few decades. Traders from Diamond Hearth chat eagerly at a table by the fire, for them, the blizzard is good news, as it will hasten the freezing of the White Sea and their Ice-ships will be able to return home all the sooner. In another corner a giant of a man with tanned, almost reddish skin sits, a few men in the same uniform as the man with the Icewalker wander over and talk to him occasionally, but otherwise the tables around him are conspicuously empty. No surprise really, as in this harsh land where resources are competed over anyone different is more like to be an enemy than an ally.

Other occupants draw somewhat more positive attention. A young woman in green has several young, but eager would-be suitors attempting to out-do each other in boasts, promises and generosity, A tall man shovels down his dinner in haste, only just barely managing to avoid spilling gravy all over himself. A merchant with a sly look and a drunkards nose is delighted by a young-looking man's generosity, and has happily lost something like twice the value of the drinks in gambling games, for those keeping count.

A musician bearing a stringed instrument stumbles out, this night's entertainment apparently, and takes a seat, playing a few riffs, clearly more to warm up before the rush than to bother with the current crowd. Nonetheless those listening nod appreciatively.

Right then, let's get this started. I have absolutely no idea how I will work some of the more detailed or individual aspects in, but for now this will do. You are all present in this locale, it should be bloody obvious who you are, but just in case I have sent each of you an IM spelling it out.(As I will do anytime I wish to relay strictly private information)

Tanitctuatl groaned and rubbed his neck. The only problem with military service, he had found so far, was that he really had nothing to do while on Leave. He was a warrior by birth and a brawler by habit, so this not having anything immediately present to do was again begeinning ot wear on him. He absently rubbed his arm, smooth flesh still as alien feeling to him as touching a reptile for the first time would be to any other person. He made idle chatter to his mates from the Fleet as they bounced from woman to woman across the bar, occassionally visiting him at their designated table to get a status report on the room. They had been in this situation many a time before on Leave. Apparently the women seemed to be more interested in the 'large, exotic-looking man' at their table than in the men that had brought them TO the table in the first place. Therefore, Tanitctuatl simply kept watch on the overall status of the bar from his corner, keen eyes scanning the area maticulously as though expecting something to happen at any moment. He took another swig of a mixture of odd substances he'd come across in his journey North. His drink of choice (indeed, the only drink he had to describe) was made with Mead, Vodka and Whiskey. Felt alot like he was trying to eat a Fire Ant, but it seemed to remind him of his Tribe in the SouthEast. He continued to keep watch over the room like a copper sentinel.

How much longer must this blizzard last? I have things that need to be done and places to go, and yet, the weather itself conspires to hinder me. Well, I guess I'd better make the best of it while I'm here and enjoy myself.

As I sit, I look around the room at the ...interesting collection of patrons gathered. First, I glance at the hardest thing in the room to miss, the giant, oddly tanned man sitting in the corner. Glancing at the elderly Icewalker, my face shows a bit of distaste for the slightest moment before remembering to be polite and agreeable.

As the room is filled with music, I concentrate for the slightest moment, forcing the smallest portion of essence into my mind, then look at the suitors in their attempts to seem better than the rest. I smile sweetly as a couple of them catch my eye, but then divert my attention back to the rest of the patrons.

Looking at the merchant, I feel badly for him. He's quite the joyous man now, but later when he realizes that he's been conned, the young roguish man had better be out of sight. The man relaxing by the fire seems worthy of note as well, but as of yet, I haven't figured out why.

I should keep my eyes open with this group. Anything is possible and I don't want to be caught off guard if or when something happens. I'll just sit here and pass the time away. Music is such a wonderful way to do that.

And so I wait either for more to happen, or for the blizzard to end, enjoying the sound of music as it floods the room and keeping an eye on everything. Especially the young men that I find to be attractive.

Charm used. Motes spent from Personal.

Torax had begun to get impatient at this point, staring at the inebriated merchant from across the table. Glancing at the elderly man in one of the far booths and then back at the merchant.

As much as I love making chump change off this drunk I would much rather get back to the reason I have been dragged to this frigid place.

Well, let's review. I made it to the north, and away from the assassins. Now all I need to do is figure out how to stop an ancient conflict that's been going on for centuries, and do it. Man I wish I had more to work with. Maybe I can find some old shaman or something that could tell me stories of when this whole thing started... maybe I could figure out some way to stop it then. Hmmm, this food is actually pretty good. I just wish they had some butter though. bread just isn't the same without butter on it. Still better than military rations though. This mead though, it tastes like bloody water; a taste I thought I would never encounter again. I wonder if everyones blood tastes the-arg! I got sidetracked again. Need to focus. Perhaps I ought to ask some of these people.
Sergei finishes eating, and then walks over to the tavern master. He inquires as to any sort of sage or wise-man in the north.

As the evening progresses it slowly becomes clear that the group of Icewalkers is being quietly shunned by both the patrons, and the workers of the tavern. An uncomfortable silence descends over the tavern, broken only by the soft step of the serving girls, and the uniformed Haslanti and Icewalker bickering in the corner, both of whom glare viciously at anyone who comes too close.

After a brief amount of time the man who was in such a rush to bolt down his dinner gets up and wanders over to the bar, engaging in brief conversation with the tavern master. The conversation is neccessarily brief, as after a brief moment there is a shockingly loud clatter, as the uniformed Haslanti rises to his feet of a sudden, his eyes flashing in anger.

"Where do you get off barbarian!?" he spits "I don't know what power you hold in your backwards little spit of a nation, nor do I much care, but I'll be damned if I let some blue-faced bastard commandeer my ship, and get my crew killed in the teeth of a blizzard just because The Bull's too much of a lazy ass to do his own errands."

The Icewalker rises to his full, impressive height, second only to the bronze colossus in the corner.
"By word of your leaders I am granted right of passage and all aid to get me to my destination, and I claim your aid, little man. do you deny your duty? Would you shame yourselves and your leaders so. Pah, no wonder my lord never wished to bring us north. Nothing up here but little men, made feeble by the cold."

You can hear a pin drop in the silence after this.

Like a bolt of copper-hued lightning, Tanitctuatl springs from his corner and interposes himself between the two men, a wall of muscle between the two adversaries. He frowns at the Icewalker heavily. "If there is an issue, take it to the Admiral." He says in a deep, almost thunderous tone. "If you start a fight on these grounds, I will have to remove you from the bar and have you thrown in the brig..." His frame seems to grow taught at the mention of fighting, and he put his hands to his sides, resting on his twin Tonfa. "Are we clear?" He asks with a scowl that almost matches that of his CO.

"Tsk, things just got bad" Torax thought to himself. Quickly leaving a pittance with the merchant and popping up from his seat, Torax rushes over to the group of men.

"N-now there is no need for this squabbling" Torax quickly spits out. "We are all men here..." Torax glances at the woman in green and then back at the men, particularly the bulky tanned one and begins speaking again with a slight twitch in his eye "There is no reason for us to t-treat our fellow in this manner..." Torax continues to waver slightly in his voice before managing to steady it. "There really isn't a reason this needs to devolve into threats and blows." Torax turns to the Haslanti in the uniform "Now you seem like a reasonable man, and a man skilled at what he does so I understand your reluctance to go out in this weather. But surely you can look at this not as a comandeering but as an opportunity? Think about it. Those below you would look up to you as a beacon of generosity, and those above would look and see a man willing to put petty differences aside to uphold an ideal. It is sure to be an interesting journey, but a journey well within your skills. At the very least you could spice up the story of the trip a bit and impress a young lass with tales of heroic bravery and great skill in the face of the harshly bitter weather."

Torax backs up a bit, realizing how close he had gotten to the tanned man who looked quite intimidating, and waits for a response.

Social Attack, (Manipulation + Presence) at the Uniformed Hastlani to convince him to allow the Icewalker to "commandeer" his vessel.

Sergei cannot bring himself to care about the heated argument taking place. He had more important matters at hand.

Well, that's something to go on. I suppose I should head for the harbor and see if I can get a boat or something. Well, I've had my meal, I'm rested... Time to go!

Sergei exits the tavern into the blizzard. He focuses his essence, and creates an aura of flames about himself, evaporating the frigid precipitation before it can touch him. He heads off towards the harbor, leaving a trail behind him where the ice and snow melted away.
Anima effect used. 4 motes spent from peripheral.

Before his CO can answer, Tanitctuat levels his predatory scowl at the stuttering little man before him. "Those beneath AND above him are Haslanti, men of virtue and honor. If he were to change his mind and accept this proposal on the simple reason that it may bring a pittance of respect for such a journey, it would show him as weak-willed and easily manipulated, as well as willing to freely breach protocol...And he is neither." He looked to his CO and nodded, assuring his commander that he was going to take care of this problem. "As such, we are going to settle this dispute with the Admiral. If the Admiral then commands us out into this weather, we will go, and not a moment sooner."

[i]Social Defense, (Charisma + Presence) against the previous Attack, reinforces from CO's Intimacies/Motivation.

The Haslanti man get's a twinkle of iron in his eyes as he hars the arguements presented. With a snarl and a sweep of his hand he opens up a brief silence.
"Very well then. We'll see if the Admiral is so damn fool as to take the ship out in the middle of a howling blizzard. And when he turns your frozen ass down we'll see how well you do." with tat he stalks out towards the door, the Icewalker following him with a grim smile.
The Haslanti pauses and makes a hurried come-on movement."Tanny, you're with me."
The Icewalker pauses as he hears this, and makes a similar gesture at Torax.

With that both head out into the howling blizzard.

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Tuv:
Roll: 5 dice = 3 Successes - 4 MDV = -1 Threshold
You get nothing. You lose. Good day sir.

Entaris:
Roll: 6 dice= 3 Successes - 0 MDV* = 3 Threshold.
Success.
* MDV=0. Target chose not to defend, as command is in line with his original intentions.

====================================================================

As Sergei braves the storm, he realizes he's getting a lot of strange looks from people on the street.
Could it be because he's walking through town while on fire?
Regardless he comes to a crossroads. Uphill leads to the cradles which hold the air-ships all of Haslanti is famed for, downhill leads to the waters edge and the more conventional ships that see use for about half the year, before those that can are outfitted as ice-ships.

Tanitctuatl nods, "Yes, Sir.' And followd close on his CO's heels, making sure to position himself within arm's reach in case either of the other two decided to be foolish and spring an attack. The result was a Haslanti airship captain with what almost looked like a giant copper statue for a shadow, looming above him just scant steps behind. He kept a close eye on the two other men as he marched behind his CO, watching for the first signs of trouble with wary eyes.

Torax follows, but moves out of reach of the large man.

Seeing that the argument is settled for the most part, I sigh heavily, stand, bid farewell to the would-be suitors, and head toward the door to follow the Fire Aspect.

If all these men can go out in this weather, I most certainly can too. Maybe this one could be useful to me...

I throw a thick shawl with fur at the hem over my exquisitely embroidered dress and step out into the freezing wind and chilling snow, instantly finding the glowing bonfire.

Shit, it's fucking cold out here! Why in Yu-shan... er, Sextes Jylis' name... did I decide this was a good option? If only I could become my own walking campfire like that...

I hurry, forcing my way through the wind to catch up to him, speaking in Skytongue as I get near.

"Excuse me, hold up a bit. I couldn't help but overhear you in the tavern. You're digging up ancient history, right? I might know of a way you could get some information about that. What exactly are you looking for?" I pause and adjust my flowing green dress, pulling the fur of the shawl close to my neck to keep out the cold wind before looking back at him. "Oh, by the way, I'm Harmonious Rose. Say, do you think maybe we could get out of this freezing blizzard while we talk?"

Sergei looks at the woman. She does not look like the type to know about ancient history. But still, he needed all the help he could get.

"Of course." He shouts over the howling wind of the storm. He heads over to a nearby inn and extinguishes himself as he enters. He walks over to the common area and sits down in one of its crude wooden chairs, and waits for the woman to speak.

The Haslanti captain continues uphill and the Icewalker sub-chief follows, eventually coming to what up-close looks almost like the walls of a fortress of truly staggering size, however the strong angle of the walls would render them almost a joke to any sufficiently determined climber. Passing through the the wagon-sized doors you come upon a tremendous open space, some distance away you see what looks like a ship wrapped in metal piping sitting in a large, wheeled wooden frame, slowly being pulled across the huge open space by a team of oxen.

Surrounding the open space you can see a vast number of buildings, some tremendous, almost barn-like others seem dainty and almost palatial, still others seem almost more like ram-shackle huts. The captain sets out with a will towards the far end of the open courtyard, seeming to make a beeline toward one of the more dainty buildings, blithely shouldering aside anyone getting in his way, despite the fact that almost everyone seems to over-top him by a head or more.

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Sergei and Harmonious Rose enter a tavern, much like the first though smaller, and take a seat in the corner.

((Please guys, if you just want to RP and/or talk to each other, you don't need me for that. Talking is a free action etc. This could have continued without me))

Tanitctuatl follows his CO into the building, snapping a salute across his chest as his gaze fell on the Admiral of the Wind Fleet and he brought his large frame to swift attention after placing himself just behind the captain's position, still keeping a watcful eye on the two opposite them.

Assumed actions taken, since posting didn't happen.
Torax: Follow Icewalker
Sergei & [Al's character]:Find suitably secluded booth in the inn.

As the somewhat fractious group enters the building, and is quickly directed into the office of the admiral, a short, fierce looking woman with flashing eyes and an overly ornate uniform.
"Oh." she said, glancing at the Haslanti captain. "It's you.
The meaning was clear. There's a hard freeze blowing in, every damn ship in the fleet's in poor repair, the idiots here wouldn't know a good piece of rigging from a mangy knot of twine, and everyone expects me to just "make it better", and now? Now there's you. Hello you.

The captain hesitates for a moment. On his own ship he wouldn't hesitate to command any king from any land to get off their mangy asses and haul rope with the rest of his crew, however here and now he hesitates before this short woman.

"Ah, Admiral, can you please just explain to this idiot that going out now is suicide?"

The Admiral looks flatly at the captain and the Icewalker, then drones out in a dull monotone voice
"All flights, for all purposes are canceled until further notice due to the severity of the storms. When it becomes safe flights shall resume with appropriate alterations to schedule." her eyes flicker back to the Icewalker.

"So. Unless someone cares to give me a just incredibly compelling reason to get one of my ships destroyed and it's crew killed in a suicide mission, I advise that you leave, find someplace to stay and sharpen your bone spears, or whatever it is you barbarians do when you're bored."

In the brief silence that follows, the Icewalker fishes out a set of papers and tosses them under the woman's nose with a sneer. Taking up the pages the womans eyes skitter back and forth for a handful of moments before she looks.

"So. I, and every other Haslanti you care to browbeat, am ordered to give you all available and appropriate aid in reaching...Crystal it seems. Well, since the sky is currently spitting frozen razor blades, I deem that an airship is neither available, nor appropriate. However I suppose I should do something for you." she said with an unmistakable acidictone to her voice. "Clerk!" she cried.

A few moments later a panting young man, swathed in gray robes stumbles in, looking at the woman in something almost approaching terror.

She smiled. "Find this man a cart and mule. Oh and a map of the Eastern League, I suppose. Nothing classified though." giving the Icewalker a wintry smile she directed one more comment at him "Do bundle up. It's chilly out there."

The Icewalker almost seems to be choking on his own tongue, and his body language suggests there would be nothing he would enjoy more than immediate and brutal violence.

"Unless anyone has any valid objections?" the admiral asks, almost coyly.

Oh and a belated idea occurs to me. If 2 characters wish to have a conversation that they are reasonably sure won't be interrupted, they can conduct it in MSN, then just one person post the whole thing in a post, rather than waiting on each other to post for each little line.

Tanitctuatl snapped another salute as the Admiral's eyes fell across him. "None whatsoever, ma'am." He stated with a concealed smirk at the Icelander and the meddler.