Fantasy snowblind

[vanquishable]

The sound of the wooden stairs creaking broke the snow-silence of the inn, harsh and grating through the early morning still. The footfalls were awkward, heavy and out of rhythm--but more than anything, they were hurried.
The footsteps screeched and groaned down the middle of the hallway, and then came to a sudden stop.
A groggy mind might have taken the silence at face value--the noise had stopped, so it must have been time for more sleep, yes? Well--no.
“Everyone?” a voice projected. The sound was clear and it carried--if one was the sort to notice these things, one would note that this person had been trained for the stage.
Regardless of whether one had a trained ear or not, one could tell that the voice’s owner was anxious.
It was the voice of the innkeeper’s wife Simona, whom the current tenants of the Frostbit Arms had all met in passing over the last several days. Simona was small in stature, with an unruly cloud of honey-blonde hair and a pregnancy that hurled the rest of her body out of proportion. She was quick with an innocent smile and a dirty joke, but this morning she didn’t seem to be in such high spirits.
“Everyone?” she repeated, and a series of creaks followed--she was shifting on her feet. “You all--we should have a talk. There’s been... snow, and I’ve just heard it confirmed that the road out of town’s been closed down.”
She paused, sighing high and loud. More creaking. “Breakfast’s on downstairs, and we can talk this all over.” And with that, she turned and left, the floor protesting all the way.


Downstairs, the innkeeper chewed his lip as he spooned generous portions of oatmeal into bowls. It seemed that he was sighing on every other breath, and despite the cold, he felt his forehead flushing. He shook his head, pausing to slip a few strands of sleek black hair behind his ear. In times of stress, these little things seemed to bother him more--and this about took the record for stressful. The most visitors he’d had in years, and they had to get snowed in. He dug his teeth back into his lip, and finished out his task.


As Kava filled the heavy blue bowls, a boy in his early teens gathered them up and placed them equal-lengths apart at the long table, portioning the benches there into spaces for individual people. Despite the air of anxiety in the room, the boy seemed happy as a lark, humming a little tune as he set the table with spoons and mugs of warm water. The boy--his name was Hardin--stepped back when he had finished, and ran his fingers through greasy blond hair as he inspected his work. A job well-done, it seemed--not the grandest breakfast in the world (though that was hardly his fault), but with a table setting fit for the Matriarch. Certainly, all of these foreigners of whom he had caught such tantalizing glimpses would notice him now, and in exchange for his diligence shower him with stories of the world outside!!


Lying in her bed, Jeanne had barely been conscious when Simona had begun her announcement. The furry, hibernatory little animal that lived in her was convinced that the groggy threat of mountain entrapment wasn’t worth leaving her warm nest of blankets, that her time would be better spent chasing at the heels of the beautiful deep sleep she had had.
Still. There was something alarming about ‘road’s closed down,’ something that, despite her better judgment, she probably ought to investigate. There were some problems that would still be there no matter how long you slept, and this one seemed like a real kick in the ass anyhow.
With a curse and the cracking of bones, Jeanne dragged her body from the bed, rearranging her nightshirt from where it had twisted and bunched around her legs. The cold was nearly intolerable, and a look through the oilpaper window showed--well, not much, really, because it was half-blocked by clinging snow.
Jeanne ran fingers through her snarled hair, and called it good. She made a similar token effort with her clothing--simply slipping on a sweater and a pair of shoes would suffice for a breakfast, yes? Even if it didn’t, who gave a shit? Not her, and probably not anybody she couldn’t intimidate into shutting up.
Grumbling to herself, Jeanne shouldered open the heavy wooden door and lumbered out into the hallway, dragging herself down the stairs and barely acknowledging the others in the common hall as she dropped like a wet sandbag in front of the nearest bowl of oatmeal.
Whatever this issue was, it could wait until she’d had her breakfast.

 

[Maree]

The warmth from the fire that filled the inn last night was gone as a cold air started to seep in. Bjorn had been awake for quite a while and spent most of his early morning helping out in the inn because it was so packed. He didn't often spend his nights sleeping by the fire there but he was stuck there till late treating some of the injured customers. It was quite treachours to travel up to Fool's Errand and most who did it on foot ended up hurt. At least it gave him some good businesses. But the fact that these strangers wouldn't be able to leave for a while was not a good thing for the town. The people weren't very welcoming to strangers and having so many stuck would not be good for anyone's mood. Once Simona came back downstairs he smiled softly at her anxious state. "Being anxious isn't good for the baby. Everything will be fine so just sit back and have some of the tea I gave you" he advised with a playful scolding tone.

Bjorn knelt beside the fireplace and began to work on getting a fire going. He would need to send Hardin out to fetch some more firewood for later seeing as they were getting low. After chucking a couple more logs on the growing fire he stood up satisfied with his work. The only one who didn’t seem to be anxious about the newcomers snowed in was Hardin, of course. He was a sweetheart and loved hearing about the adventures outside of their town. As per usual he was running around like a headless chook trying to impress the newcomers. “I’m sure if you just asked they would tell you about their adventures, Hardin. Your methods of trying to impress them to an extent where they tell you about themselves without you having to ask tends not to work” he told him, chuckling softly. Bjorn sat down by the fire, pulling out his dagger and started to sharpen it. Might as well rest while he could. He had a feeling that it was going to be a full on day.


Priscilla's eyes fluttered once again at the sound of someone walking up the creaky stairs. She let out a soft sigh and moved into a sitting position. Due to being a light sleeper, she had been woken many times that night to someone walking up or down the stairs. Though this time it was different as a female voice called out to them saying something about the road out being blocked. Priscilla felt a wave of unease wash over her. She did not enjoy being stuck in one place for too long. Oh, she knew that she shouldn't have ventured up to the snowy mountains. Nothing good ever happened in snowy towns but then again that is what drew her there. The way that they treated outsiders made her think that they had something to hide. A secret that could be turned into a wonderful song? she sure hoped so.

After a few moments hesitation, Priscilla pulled herself out from under the warm blankets. She was just glad that they had a nice warm looking stable for Merigold to stay in. She would have hated having to leave her out in the gold. Pulling on her everyday clothes and a nice cozy coat she was more than ready for breakfast. She plucked her lute from beside her bed before heading down the stairs. The air was still a bit chilly but less so than her room was as someone had started a fire. Priscilla smiled softly at the site of a hot breakfast and quickly seated herself closest to the fire. To some, it might have looked a bit bland but after what she had been living off a hot meal seemed like heaven. "Thank you this looks lovely," she said politely before picking up her mug and taking a sip. For a couple moments, she debated waiting for the other guests to come down but she figured that everything would cold by then. Her eyes fell on a young boy who surprisingly seemed happy to have guests. She ate a couple spoonfuls of porridge into her mouth before speaking again. "You look like you're having a good morning?" she said to the teen before taking another sip of water. Her eyes flickered over to the stairs for just a moment wondering what sorts of people would make their way down the stairs.

 

[graphic_biscuit]

Delilah was amongst the trapped guests that resided at the inn, her hair an unkempt mess and concern etched into her features. She awoke almost immediately at the sound of Simona, the woman she learned was the inn keeper's wife. Dazed and a tad bit irritated, she managed to pull herself away from the warmth of her comfortable bed and slipped into the hallway as Simona spoke to the rest of the residents of the inn.


'Road's closed down.'


Delilah tensed at the words, stomach plunging cold. She owned a relatively sizable farm in a town about a week's travel away on horseback. Winter had struck her community, leaving many families and merchants without items to sell, use, or barter. She willingly volunteered to venture out and attempt to trade with the mountain folk, hoping to bring back more clothing and such to her town. Delilah had left her farm with an old friend of her's, but she was quite busy tending to her own family. It's an unnerving feeling, knowing that your home is practically unguarded and open to potential thieves.


Delilah shuffled back into her quarters, a small sigh escaping her lips. Might as well eat breakfast while it's still available. She slipped out of her pale nightgown and changed into the same knee-length dress she had worn when traveling to Fool's Errand. The young woman chuckled lightly, shaking her head at the irony of her situation. Maybe she was a fool to seek the mountain folk, though it was too late to do anything about it. She pulled on her umber brown boots, attempted to tame her disheveled nest of hair, and made her way downstairs to the common hall. Her gaze swept through the room, the feeling of uneasiness blooming in her chest. Crowds of people intimidated her greatly, a fear she's carried with her since she was a child. She quickly took a seat in front of a bowl of oatmeal, occasionally glancing at the various people around her whilst spooning the delicious mush into her mouth.

 

[loftilyhonest]

Keaton was sitting up in bed when he heard Simona calling through the hallway. Away from home or not, his stubborn body always insisted on waking up early in the morning to get ready for the day's work. But after hearing that announcement -- after hearing that the roads were blocked -- a sharp pang in his heart made him wish he wasn't awake at all.

He halfway couldn't believe it at first. He thought it was just some remnant of a crazy fever dream. The moment he looked out the window, though, he spit out a stream of bitter curses under his breath. The window was covered in snow as real as his hands in front of him.

He scrubbed his hands over his eyes, wrapped even more blanket around his shoulders. The thought of the inn in the hands of his brothers -- the thought of the inn essentially alone -- sent a chill through his body that no wool sweater could ever fix. If their city ways made them too high and mighty just to get a horse, Keaton doubted that his brothers would properly manage any of the simple jobs needed to maintain the inn. They’d probably ask Ma and Pa to step in, and at their age, with their creaky bones… well, there wouldn't be much stepping in at all.

With a groan, Keaton Packard forced himself to stand up. There was no use in moping around with those thoughts in his head. He needed to do something about them. He was gonna get down to that breakfast or die trying, and once he was there he'd figure out exactly what the hell was going on with the roads. Years of practice made making the bed and tidying the room quick work, and before he knew it he was throwing on a wrinkled sweater and an equally wrinkled pair of pants. He dragged a lazy hand through his hair, making sure that it was at least tolerable, before sliding out the door and walking down the hallway with quick, determined steps. He walked into the common room with his head held high, shoulders back. The familiar sight of early morning guests and a crackling fireplace made his homesickness a little more bearable.

"Mornin', y'all," he said, giving everyone in the room a small smile. His eyes drifted over to the table. The bowls, he realized with a jolt, were filled with oatmeal -- and after eating only bread and jerky for days on end, the heaping piles tantalized him like nothing else. He nodded appreciatively at the innkeeper. "Breakfast looks good. Thank ya."

Keaton plopped down in the place second closest to the fire. He sighed in content when the waves of heat hit his skin. Good damn. A warm fire and a warm breakfast? Now this was worth his while. He practically inhaled his oatmeal. Occasionally he glanced around the room and up the stairs, but for the most part he was focused on shoveling as much food in his mouth as humanly possible. Sure, it might have been a little bland compared to his usual fare. But food was food, and at this point, when he wasn't sure when he'd be home for another home-cooked meal, he would take whatever he could get.

"Good gravy," he mumbled in between mouthfuls, "this is good."

Even with the shitty conditions, he had to admit that this was a damn delicious breakfast.

 

[epicstar]

After Simona finished her message, Mark took off to find Casey and June. He found them sitting on a small log bench set up between two shops. "The inn lady said that the roads were closed!" he reported, still somehow smiling despite the nature of the news he had just brought. June shuddered. "You mean we're stranded here? We don't even have a roof over our heads!" she said. Her voice wavered towards the end, and she coughed a few times into her elbow. "It's not like we're going anywhere. I'll go into the inn and see what I can find out." Casey replied. As he started walking towards the inn, he looked back over his shoulder at June. "Watch him!" he yelled, pointing at Mark. June nodded.

Once he was inside the inn, Casey immediately started looking for the innkeeper. After finding him, Casey walked up and asked how much a room costs.

 

[vanquishable]

Simona nodded tersely to Bjorn, taking the proferred mug of tea. Something about her being pregnant made the people in this village harp on endlessly about her health, even if they wouldn't have given her the time of day before. If one more person told her to watch herself while she was in a perfectly normal emotional state, she would show them a decidedly abnormal emotional state. Simona ground her teeth, and found her awkward way to a seat at the table. She wished she could justify leaving the tea to freeze, but it seemed to have some actual merit--there were nettles in it, and raspberry leaf. And it tasted good besides.

Hardin fluttered about, paying no real attention to the etiquette of standing still while people were talking to you. The redheaded stranger was pretty, and foreign, and these things made him feel especially flighty. He rifled through Kava's knitting basket, rearranged the knick-knacks on the mantle. Popped back down to take a look at the pretty stranger, and immediately flit back over to the counter, helping Kava rinse out the pot. "It's too bad!" he explained after a moment, looking over his shoulder at Priscilla. "It's too bad you can't go home, but maybe you'll have time to tell some stories?" There, just like Bjorn had said. Asking outright, that would work. Goddess, but this was exciting.

Jeanne shoveled her oatmeal into her mouth--it was piping hot and lightly sweet, with chopped dried apples mixed in. It was divine as compared to hardtack and souring ale. It was almost comforting, but then. You know, not really. She had only intended to stick around for another day or so, just as long as it would take to sell her wares and be off. Still, the girl sitting beside her looked even more anxious, so she figured she probably ought to... do something about that.

Jeanne turned to Delilah, with an awkward sort of half-smile. "Morning," she said, trying and failing to sound properly cheerful. "Bit of a... situation we’ve gotten ourselves into, huh?" She looked around, having noted vaguely that a young man had come into the room. She thought she’d met him in passing the other day... Keaton? Well. Misery loves company. “How are y’all doing? I’m Jeanne, by the by.”

Kava was just cleaning out the dishes he’d used to prepare the meal, keeping his back to the room that was rapidly filling with people. In situations like this, he tended to crawl back into himself, and this was no exception. Still, the vague presence of his wife and friend Hardin in the room--as well as the guests complimenting his cooking--provided him with some small comfort, and he found himself nursing a tiny smile as he worked.

Still, he couldn’t keep in that headspace for long--not when he found his attention being grabbed by what looked to be a rather undernourished teenage boy. For a second, he thought it might have just been gangly Hardin, but it seemed to be a different child, one he thought he’d seen when last he went out to trade. It struck him odd, there were no street urchins in Fool’s Errand.

The question, ‘how much for a room,’ seemed to stump Kava. Sure, he had his rates posted up on the wall, but that didn’t really seem to apply. There were... quite a few people in the inn, now, and this child, whom he couldn’t well allow to stay out on the street. But still, he had himself to support, and a wife and in just a few weeks, a child. Or perhaps two, the girl was huge already. Kava sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

“I think I’m out of rooms, but, uh, I can let you sleep in the common room, free of charge.” It wasn’t the greatest business decision, and Kava had always been told to be wary of making choices on the spur of the moment, but what else could he have done?

 

[capMARVELOUS]

The elderly gentleman, Tucker, poked his head out of his suite at the call of Miss Simona, his shaggy white hair rumpled and his eyes bleary with freshly-discarded sleep. His brow crinkled at the news that the road that led out of town was closed off; this news did not exactly worry him personally, as he meant to stay here a good while, but several motes of concern for the others here with him wormed their way into his heart. From the brief snippets he had gathered since arriving, not all of them meant to spend much time here. Some had business elsewhere, and with the road blocked, they would have no way of leaving to conduct that business.

He decided that after breakfast, he would see what he could do to help speed along the reopening of the road.

Having marginally tamed his mane, and donned his boots and undercoat (he had slept in his leggings, which had been uncomfortable at first), Tucker hobbled down the creaky stairs, a book in one hand and his staff to steady himself in the other. It took him a while, but he made it down to the common room, where already several of the other travelers he had shared the night with were eating their bowls of oatmeal in relative silence. He graciously accepted a bowl himself from Sir Kava, and hunkered down, knees creaking slightly, at the shared table somewhere midway between a disheveled young lady and a young man tucking away into his oatmeal. He set about eating his own bowl, which was delicious after all that traveling food.

 

[Suyasuya]

"Everyone?"

"Mng... Five more minutes..." Kallon rolled over to face away from the voice outside, wrapping himself further into the warm blankets in protest. It was too early and too cold to move away from his safe haven of comfort.

"Everyone?" Simona's anxiety-laced voice carried through the hallway once again, followed by the sound of rhythmic creaking. It sounded like she was pacing or something of the sort, Kallon figured.
Reluctantly, his eyes fluttered open, and he listened to what Simona had to say. Well, as much as his semi-conscious early morning mind would allow:
Talk... Snow... Confirmed... Road out of town... Closed down... Breakfast--- Oh! Breakfast sounded good.

---Wait. Waaaiiit, wait, wait, wait. The road out of town's been closed down?! That would mean--- he wouldn't be able to get home?! The realisation was quick to wake him up. But then, just as quickly, the feeling subsided. Why should he be worried? He'd only just arrived the day before - there was still so much to do and see in Fool's Errand! If anything, he should count himself lucky that the roads weren't closed down when he was still walking on them!

And so! With that settled, he decided he'd get out there and face the day, the innkeepers and the other guests, with his winning smile!! ...Juuust as soon as he could muster the will to get out of bed. The cold air did nothing to help coax him away from his sanctuary. Unless... He didn't have to leave. He could get out of bed, and take the blankets with him. Oho, perhaps he had inherited his parents' ingenuity, after all!

Kallon rolled out of bed, keeping the bedcovers tightly draped around himself. Successfully cocooned in warmth, he was finally ready to--- Oh, wait--- He hastily slips on his boots, he'd almost forgotten - then he was finally ready to head downstairs.

The floorboards groaned beneath him as strode along the hallway, feeling rather regal with some of the blanket trailing behind him. Half-way down the stairs, he began to take note of the scene unfolding in the common hall; several guests were already seated and enjoying their breakfast, the innkeeper was talking to a scrawny guy, and oh! The healer's apprentice, who'd tended to his minor scrapes and bruises from his journey, was there too, sitting by the fire!

"Gooooooooood morning, Frostbit Armers!" Disregarding any conversations happening, Kallon decided to loudly announce his presense - more than the squeaking stairs already were. "How are you all this fine morning? Pretty nippy out there isn't it! Haha!" His inane banter was cut short by the fact he'd accidentally stepped on the corner of his blanket robe, and he found himself stumbling down the last few steps, landing in a heap at the bottom.

"I'm okay---" After a few moments of untangling himself from the blankets, he picked himself up. It turned out he hadn't even needed them, in the end - it was considerably warmer downstairs with the fire going. Oh well.

He bundled the blanket under his arm and took an empty seat at the table. "Whew, made it!" He sheepishly laughed away his embarrassment, and offered a big lop-sided grin towards the other guests. "Hi!"
His eyes narrow, realisation suddenly sweeping over him. "Wait--- were you guys--- talking, or something? Don't let me interrupt you, I'm just going to eat this oatmeal." He took a deep breath in, inhaling the warm and subtly sweet smell. "Ahhh, it smells delicious!" He began to shovel in the oatmeal, sating the need to keep his mouth running. For now.

 

[graphic_biscuit]

Delilah glanced up from her bowl of breakfast, her gaze fixing on the new face that had entered the common hall. A young man with ash brown hair that looked about her age clambered down the steps, greeting the tenants at nearby tables. He wandered over to her table and sat down, tending to his own food. She offered him a smile, greeting him with her own 'good morning', and went back to business with her oatmeal. Good lord, it was much better than the stale bread and dried meat she had to suffer with on the trip to Fool's Errand.

Delilah was halfway through her mouthful of oatmeal when the woman next to her spoke to herself and the brown-haired young man that had entered a few moments before. She felt a little bit more comfortable, glad that she wasn't sitting in silence anymore. She turned to face the two, swallowing quickly before responding.

"You got that right," she said, offering her a small yet friendly smile. "It's a shit situation."

A few other people entered and sat down, but one young man had caught her attention as he announced himself and tumbled down the stairs. She bit down on her lower lip, glancing at him with worry and a bit of amusement. She shook her head, chuckling softly to herself as he hauled himself up off the floor and continued to greet guests. He was a chipper one, wasn't he?

She fixed her attention back to Jeanne and Keaton, setting her spoon next to her empty bowl and apologizing for getting distracted.

"It's nice to meet you both, my name's Delilah," she replied. Hopefully, she could make a few friends here and there. Being stuck in a building with only strangers to keep you company was a bit nerve-wracking, to say the least.

 

[Maree]

Bjorn chuckled slightly at Simona's annoyance at him. "It's my job to talk about health. I could be charging you for how much I have been helping you out missy. Don't get in a huff with me" he said as he joined the rest at the table. He was starting to wish that he had left his mentor to deal with her pregnancy. She often acted like he only cared about her health because she was pregnant. It's his job to care about everyone's health and he had been looking after her health way before she got a bun in the oven. Pregnant women were always so hormonal and got so annoyed quickly when you're helping them. Though he wouldn't trade his job for the world. He loved helping people not matter how hormonal some of them were. He found a soft smile forming on his face as he turned his attention to the guests of the inn.

"It's good to see that you lot are all getting along. Because when you're not around the four of us you lot are going to be the only friendly faces you see around here. Oh just stay away from the upper woods unless you want to get thrown out of the town. It's sacred grounds and strangers are forbidden from entering" Bjorn advised before flashing them a kind smile. He really didn't want to have to sneak someone back in because they did something silly. Last time he wouldn't let someone get kicked out he got in so much trouble. He honestly just didn't want to see any kind people get put through that. He didn't care if he was labelled 'too caring' by the rest of the village he thought it was a good thing.

"If you ever need anything don't hesitate to ask. I'll always be around to help. Mostly free of charge unless you have like broken your leg or something then I would have to charge" Bjorn added sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. It seemed like they were only waiting on a few more guests before they could start properly talking about the snow in.


Priscilla found herself getting a bit distracted by all the other guests coming down. She paused eating for a moment wondering if they had ay stories that she could use. Her eyes lit up significantly as an idea popped into her head causing her to quickly scribble something in a notebook. The sound of names being exchanged caught her attention and made her realise that she had yet to introduce herself. There was so much on her mind and so much more she wanted to do. But some friends in the foreign town would probably be good. "I'm Pricillia. Lovely to make your acquaintance" she added into the conversation between the members of the table. She flashed them a charming smile before turning back to the boy who was fluttering about.

"Oh, I don't have a home I'm always travelling. If you want stories you came to the right girl! I'm a bard after all and what's a good meal without some entertainment." Priscilla spoke as she slid out from her chair. Oh, how she loved performing during meals it just made the whole experience more enjoyable for all parties. She grabbed her Lute from where it was leaning against the table and plucked a few strings, tuning it. "I do hope the rest of you don't mind. I'll make it a quick one, promise" she smiled, plucking a few more strings before she seemed satisfied.

Priscilla took another sip of water before strumming a soft tune on her lute. It was one of her favourites and the best song she had created so far. "These scars long have yearned for your tender caress" her voice was soft and melodic as she sang. There was never any doubt that she was extremely talented. There was a reason she was nicknamed The Nightingale.

"To bind our fortunes, damn what the stars own.
Rend my heart open, then your love profess

A winding, weaving fate to which we both atone" Priscilla found herself getting lost in the song. It was almost like her words swirled around the room making a scene out of the letters.

Once Priscilla sang the last note she was pulled back to reality and looked around the room. There was something so powerful about telling a story through song. The way words could reach people was truly astounding.


Bjorn found himself almost as lost in the song as the singer was. It was such a beautiful tale sung by an even more beautiful voice. He found himself wiping a couple of tears from his face before he started to clap. He had to hand it to Hardin, he was very glad the boy had asked to hear of her stories.

 

[Lord Mitmar]

Life on the road was never exactly easy. From the pitiful weather to the occasional hungry coyote, there was always another annoyance around the bend. It did come with its perks, though. Not being woken by a throaty cough or stomping feet, for instance. Sean would have given anything for a few hours of silence, but between the Innkeeper's lovely -loud, but lovely- wife and what sounded like the entire inn waking up, that quiet was fading as fast as the last few shreds of his bizarre dreams. Even now all he could remember was something about fighting some kid over a stolen horse. He didn't even own a horse. Hell, he'd never even touched one. Why would he be skulking around a stable? Who was the kid? How the hell would you even go about the process of stealing a horse? Why couldn't he figure out how to steal a horse? His clouded mind certainly wouldn't be solving any great mysteries this early in the day.

He let loose a string of curses as he tried to roll over, his muscles screaming every inch of the way. He could hear some quiet chatter coming from through the floorboards, only slightly muffled by the worn brown pelt that was supposed to serve as some sorry excuse for a rug, and more so by Dawn's slumbering form. They hadn't been able to pay for a larger room, but they couldn't exactly stay outside all night. The little one-person room they'd managed to squeeze into wasn't too bad. A bit tight for two people, and there was no way they would both fit on the narrow straw mattress, but they were used to sleeping on dirt. Even this was an improvement, and in all fairness, he did offer her the bed. He yawned, immediately coming to regret it as a wave of nausea washed over him. He lay there, hands over his eyes and hair matted to his forehead.

He was hung over. The realisation hit him like... Actually, 'hit' isn't really the right word. It more... Slowly dawned on him. Very, very slowly. It shouldn't be as surprising as it was, considering his primary state of being. Impressively drunk. He let out another groan as Dawn suddenly shot into the corner of his vision. She was already dressed, which was odd. He hadn't noticed her move until now. Unless she'd slept like that. What kind of lunatic slept in their boots? Actually, yeah. That's probably exactly what she did, and considering her cloak -and everything else really- seemed to be made of folds and wrinkles, she certainly looked the part. "Did'ja hear Si- Silia? Sia? Si..." "Simone" He cut in. "Right, she mentioned something about breakfast. Says we're to head downstairs." She finished with a yawn.

Breakfast, eh? Now there was something to look forward to. It only took a few more grumbles before Sean was on his feet. Dawn eyed him with a lopsided smirk. "Don't tell me you're still drunk. Here, put a fuckin' shirt on at least. 'Less you're looking to beat the piss outta another innkeep?" Sean glowered at her, though the shine in his eyes betrayed him. "The fuck're you on about?" Her grin widened. "Remember Townsend?" They both cracked into laughter before completely shattering. Every time one of them would start to regain their composure, their gazes would meet and they'd burst into another fit. A few minutes later, after they'd both managed to get their breath back, Dawn huffed out an approving "That jackass deserved it." before waving her brother towards the door. "C'mon, we're keepin'em waiting." He chuckled. "Who the hell would wait for the two'a us?"

The two made their way down the old stairs that had been so intent on torturing anyone that tried to sleep last night. Dawn moved with a cat's paws, managing to slip down the short hall without as much as a chirp. A far cry from Sean's thundering tread. If anyone had been trying to catch a few more minutes of rest in the nearby rooms, there certainly weren't anymore. Neither twin paid any mind to the few windows they passed. Why should they? They would both be heading outside in just a few minutes. It's not like they were locked inside the inn. Which was a good thing, too. Dawn never was able to keep her cool when she couldn't move about freely. Something about being trapped just made her feel like a noose were wrapping itself around her throat. It was an unfortunate and decidedly uncontrollable affliction, but she did try to keep it under control.

As they stepped into the comfortably warm common room, their senses were absolutely assaulted. The smell of a hot meal, the sounds of clapping, praise, and laughter, and the sight of a bustling -and happy- group of travellers and locals alike. It was a pleasant sight. They both waited at the base of the stairs, each sizing up the scene in their own way. As the praise died off and the general din of conversation returned, Dawn took a short hop forward, followed by a decidedly unimpressed Sean. "Top of the mornin' to ya!" She called to whoever cared to listen, flashing a grin that only looked a little predatory. "There anything left down here or can I head back to bed?"

 

[vanquishable]

Simona sighed, taking another sip of her tea to stop herself from saying something especially unpleasant. Missy. Missy what? She was twenty-five, she was married, she was about to be a mother for heaven's sakes! Missy. Like she was twelve.

But still. Bjorn was right, and while that pissed her off even worse she was just going to have to deal with it. "Sorry then, dear. You know how I get." She ran a hand through her hair, looked away as if to say 'and that's all you're getting out of me.'

Jeanne smiled at Delilah, before cutting a mock-annoyed eye at the new arrival, who was loading oatmeal into his mouth like his life depended on it. She made eye contact, raised an eyebrow. "A shit situation, huh? This fellow here doesn't think so."

She was about to make some joke or another, when Bjorn started talking. It was... rather disheartening, wasn't it? Unfriendly people, forbidden areas. All she had heard was that it was cold, and perhaps a good place to sell some millet if you happened to have some.

"Are you... exaggerating?" she asked, chewing her lip. "I've not heard anything of the like."

Kava craned his neck to look at her, the rest of his body still facing the disadvantaged boy. "I--I'm only the innkeeper because none of the locals wanted to do it. To, ah, spend so much time with foreigners. I'd--well, I'm a... wallflower, my wife calls me, but I'd give them a wide berth even if I wasn't."

Jeanne shrugged, making a face that seemed to say 'I'll be damned.'

It was about then that Prisculla started to sing, and the room fell silent. Hardin stopped dead in his tracks, nearly dropping the bowl in his hands. His eyes went wide and bright as harvest moons. He was fairly certain that this was what it felt like to fall in love. That was it, he was fourteen and he could die happy. When she finished, he laid down the bowl and clapped so hard his hands went red.

"Another????" he asked, his voice cracking like thin lake ice.

Simona smiled, reaching over to ruffle the kid's hair. "Well sung, friend," she said, "perhaps we should work together sometime."

Just as the applause was dying down, two more folks tumbled downstairs. They were... Jeanne was fairly certain they were siblings? She'd seen them in passing before. She was entirely certain that they looked like a good time. "Top of the morning!" she called back cheerfully. "There's enough for everyone--" she turned back to Kava, who nodded to confirm. "There is enough for everyone, why don't you join us!"

 

[graphic_biscuit]

Her gaze shifted briefly to the boy Jeanne was referring to and laughed, shaking her head. For someone who had just fallen down numerous stairs and landed flat on his ass, he was very happy-go-lucky. It was a refreshing sight, it helped lift Delilah's spirits about her situation. "Maybe not," she replied, her moss green orbs wandering back to Jeanne. "Good for him. Glad one less person in this inn is unhappy."

Bjorn's warning of the upper woods and the townsfolk intrigued Delilah. So little was known about the small village of Fool's Errand. It's hidden within the woods; most strange things are. The fact that numerous outsiders, including herself, had all arrived here at the same time the roads shut down made her uneasy. Delilah bit down on her lower lip in thought, staring blankly at her empty breakfast bowl in front of her. She needed to know more about Fool's Errand. She made a mental note to take it up with Bjorn later, a small sigh escaping her lips.

Delilah was a bit startled when the room fell silent, pulling her out of her thoughts. A young woman's voice resonated throughout the common hall, melodic and smooth. It was quite beautiful, really. Delilah applauded right along with everyone else when the song ended, flashing Priscilla a warm smile. Hopefully, she'd sing for everyone again.

'Top of the mornin' to ya!'

Delilah spun around in her seat, watching as two new potential companions made their way into the common hall. At first glance, they both looked like nice people to be around, and that was all she needed to call out to them, responding with a friendly 'good morning!' Her gaze lingered on the male for a moment, before returning back to Jeanne, who was also calling out to the pair.

 

[Maree]

Priscilla bowed slightly before returning to her seat. She always found herself feeling quite anxious in that bit of time after the song stops but before the applause begins. Even if she has sung the song a thousand times and everyone loved it she always worries that they won't like it. She found herself smiling softly at the boys reaction. As long as she touched at least one person then that meant she was doing something right. "Judging off what was being said earlier I'm sure there will be plenty of time for more songs," she told him, laughing softly.

Priscilla's eyes flickered to the stairs as two new people came down. Must have been heavy sleepers it is a shame they came after her song. She found herself turning back to the innkeeper's wife as she mentioned performing together. She didn't strike her as a performer but who was she to crush a poor woman's dreams. "Oh, you perform as well? Did you ever study at the college?" she asked, slightly curious but also because if she didn't then she would know that she wasn't an actual bard and just a dreamer. Bard is a title that you have to work hard for it isn't something you label yourself because you feel like it. People who thought they could just sing a few songs and immediately be a bard pissed her off. You don't just decide to be a healer one day and just start healing. No, There is a lot of studying that goes into every profession and there is a lot more to being a bard than singing a little tune.

Bjorn watched Hardin's reaction and was quite amused. He would give the boy so much crap later, he most definitely had a crush on the red-headed bard. Not that he could blame the boy but it was very difficult to figure out a bards intentions. One moment you think they are head over heels for you and the next they are gone. But it was best not to let his past experiences with beautiful bards dictate his opinion of Priscilla. It was always best to keep an open mind and treat everyone with equal kindness. Apart of him wanted the snow in to last a while so he could develop some friendships with the newcomers. They all seemed so interesting.

Bjorn then realised that he had never answered the stranger's question so he turned back to them. "I'm afraid I am quite serious. The upper woods are closed off for good reasons. The main being it's where we worship so it's quite disrespectful for an outsider to wander around up there. But also the air gets quite thin and it is very dangerous for someone who doesn't know the mountains. I would advise staying as far away from it as you can," he explained before spooning the rest of his oatmeal into his mouth.

 

[Suyasuya]

"Mmph?" Kallon looked up to catch Jeanne's gaze. 'Fellow', she'd called him. Quite a distinguished way to be refered to. He smiled at her, but with a heaping of breakfast stuffed in his face, he looked more like a chipmunk than anything remotely dignified. He started to say something, indecipherable behind the mouthful of oatmeal; the most clear thing that came out of his mouth was a glob of porridge that plopped back into his bowl. His gaze trailed down to follow it, a second indistinct noise escaping that one could assume was a sheepish 'oops'.

While Delilah spoke, he took the time to actually swallow his food before speaking again. "Why would anyone be unhappy? The people here are great!" He made a sweeping arm motion to gesture towards Simona, Hardin, Bjorn and Kava, respectively. "And everyone's pretty much just got here, right? There's so many things left to do here! For example, you could..." He didn't actually know much of anything about Fool's Errand apart from how treacherous the journey would be (and, in being there, how cold it was), so he'd have to improvise. "...Build a snowman! Or start a snowball fight! Orrr..." A pause as his mind buffered. "...Oh!" He energetically slammed his hands on the table on either side of his bowl. "Sledding! Do you think they have a sledding business here? Huge missed opportunity if they don't, it's the perfect place for it! Imagine sledding down the mountain..."

Rather than perturbing him, Bjorn's warnings about the unfriendly locals brought a sly smile to Kallon's face as he idly stirred what was left of his breakfast. "Grumpy locals, eh? Maybe they just need someone to shake things up a bit around here...~" He wasn't particularly talking to anyone, just musing to himself.
It was a folklore story he'd heard more than once - a free spirit arriving in a small isolated town, or an oppressed kingdom, and turning the miserable locals' lives around. Always for the better, of course!
Perhaps there was a reason they all ended up trapped here for a while. Maybe he could return home, having not only made the 'impossible' journey to Fool's Errand and back, but having helped change the lives of everyone who lived there. Finally, a real accomplishment...

He was dragged out of his thoughts by the gentle plucking of lute strings. He quickly turned his attention to the source of the sound, and soon Priscilla's voice was drifting throughout the common hall. Kallon gently swayed from side to side to her melody. Somehow, he felt like the common hall became warmer, radiating from the bard. That must be the power of a real heartfelt performance.
He gave a hearty applause at the end of her song--- no, she deserved more than that. He rose from his seat to give her a standing ovation, throwing in a whoop and a cheer for good measure.

He'd just flopped back onto the bench when there was a cheerful call of "Top of the mornin' to ya!"
Kallon had never heard those words strung together like that, but he, along with Jeanne, echoed them back at the newcomers. "Top of the mornin' to ya!" Wow, it really was a fun phrase to say! It was the kind of thing that would be impossible to say in a bad mood. Top of the mornin' to ya. He'd have to remember that.
As Jeanne invited them over, he tapped on the edge of the table in thought, before turning his attention back to the pair. "Y'know, I don't think I've ever heard an accent like that before. Are you guys not from Crolibia?"

 

[vanquishable]

Jeanne smiled as she drummed her fingers on the table. Surely, it was a shit situation being stuck up here for... probably months, but Kallon's enthusiasm, foolish as he seemed, made her feel a little better. Sledding, huh? Maybe they would--she hadn't been sledding in she-didn't-know-how-long. Or had a snowball fight, for that matter. It was certainly more pleasant to think about than all the adult concerns of an extended stay in the village--how to feed oneself, how to stay warm and not get oneself in too much trouble. Until the really heavy conversation started, she supposed she might as well indulge herself.

"Well," she said, wryly, "if we don't freeze to death, or get eaten by locals, I suppose it wouldn't be too bad for us to build some snow forts." She tapped Delilah lightly on the shoulder. "Are you game?" She turned, then, to the twins: "Want to get beat in a snowball fight?"

Simona narrowed her eyes at Priscilla, chewing the inside of her cheek. The college, huh? In the big city, where nobody had to work for a living? Where your quality of life didn't have to hinge on the quality of your performance on a nightly basis? No, she certainly hadn't, and the fact that Priscilla was using a gold-leafed diploma as test for her told Simona quite a lot about her. She smirked, curling flyaway hair between slender fingers.

"No, I didn't... matriculate, as it were. You see," she said sweetly, widening her smile just the littlest bit. "My parents were minstrels, so you could say that I've been training my entire life. There's no teacher like experience, don't you think?" With that, she swallowed down the remainder of her tea. Your move, carrot top.

 

[Maree]

Priscilla watched the woman's eyes narrow but kept a sweet smile on her face. Of course, she didn't study with the college she wouldn't be an innkeepers wife in the mountains no less if she had actually studied. Oh well, as long as she didn't refer to herself as a bard they would be fine. How pitiful to call yourself a performer just because you had minstrels for parents. Like anyone actually cares about those types of performances. Poems just sound silly and require little to no talent at all. She highly doubted that the woman could even properly hit a single note. But she had to keep her opinions to herself as sadly she was staying at her inn. Well, only until it was time to leave then she could call the pathetic woman out.

"Minstrels? Oh, how lucky. Of course, experience is a wonderful thing" Priscilla beamed. Oh, how all the acting classes she took came in handy. The 'performer' was making all her emotions so obvious. It was pathetic how obviously fake her smile was. Who smiles that wide anyway? Oh well, that's what happens when you don't actually study your craft. Then again Priscilla had always been excellent at feigning her emotions even before the college.

"Didn't you have an announcement about the roads being closed?" Priscilla asked. Her eyes looked over at the windows which were covered in snow. Oh, how she hated being stuck in one place it made her antsy. She just wanted to get out of this inn already, and playing in the snow with the others sounds like fun. "Mind if I join in on the snow activities?" she asked, giving them a proper smile.


Bjorn found his eyes widening at Kallons enthusiasm for shaking things up. He was going to be killed. Oh, he couldn't let that happen as much as this kids optimism made him worry it was also infectious. This kid would no last a day in this town his attitude would be sure to piss everyone off. "I guess I should tag along to show you where a spot where it is safe to play. But mainly to prevent you from getting chased out of town with pitchforks." he chuckled, running his fingers through his blonde hair. Then again maybe shaking things up a bit was a good thing. Well as long as they did it where they couldn't annoy the townsfolk.

Bjorn furrowed his eyebrows, thinking hard before his eyes lit up. "There isn't a business for it but I do have a few sleds stashed away by the lower woods. Where they can't be used as firewood by the townsfolk. God, I need to get out of this town before I turn into a grumpy hermit" he joked, laughing softly. When the bard asked to go he looked over at Hardin and wiggled his eyebrows in a teasing matter. Would he be brave enough to take along in order to spend some time with the strangers and the bard he most definitely had a crush on.

 

[graphic_biscuit]

A smirk tugged at Delilah's lips at Jeanne's proposal, excitement flickering in her moss green eyes. Being cooped up in her inn room and dwelling on making her way back home would drive her mad, it'd be good to have a bit of fun. "I'm up to it," she replied. "This ought to be a good time."

Delilah glanced over at Kallon, offering him a small smile. His enthusiasm would most definitely get everyone riled up and excited. "Would you like to join us?" she asked, tucking a flyaway strand of her hair behind her ear. She hoped more of the tenants of the inn would get involved as well, it'd give everyone a chance to get to know each other more. It'd also give Delilah a chance to demolish them in a snowball fight. She may be small, but she was a slippery little thing.

Her gaze momentarily flickered up to the face of an elderly man sitting next to her. She was surprised she hadn't noticed him when he entered, he was quite tall. His eyes seemed gentle and friendly, much like her grandfather had. She made a note to introduce herself later on, feeling a bit guilty that she hadn't done so earlier. She returned her attention to Kallon, awaiting an answer from him.

 

[loftilyhonest]

The last traces of whatever homesickness Keaton carried buried themselves for later when the blonde woman -- Jeanne -- introduced herself to him and the disheveled black haired gal at his side. He put his spoon down and pushed his oatmeal away slightly. The unfamiliar people excited him, made him sit taller to get better looks at them. Back home, he'd be lucky if he saw someone coming to the inn from beyond the few neighboring towns. And now, in this tiny village, there were more strangers than he had ever seen in his 23 years, strangers who were friendly. He wanted to stay, to meet all of them before he had to return back to the inn. ... Of course, he'd try his damndest to get home. That would always be a priority. But there wouldn't be any harm in making friends and enjoying himself along the way, too. Always make the best of a given opportunity, Ma said, and Keaton promised himself that he would.

He was about to respond to Jeanne when someone appeared at the corner of his eye. An old grandpa with a staff toddled into the room, and at his appearance Keaton gave him a polite "mornin', sir". A moment later, a blanket covered boy tumbled down the stairs and stood up again right after it happened, reassuring everyone that he was okay with a voice as chipper as a horse led to a haystack. Keaton snorted, amused by both the boy's fall and his attitude. Sure, he'd seen people get right back up after falling, but he'd never met anyone who could be so chipper after it. Somehow the sight lifted his spirits a little, made him a little more excited about everything. Good gravy, talking with all of these people was going to be an adventure. After that mess, he turned back to the black-haired gal -- Delilah, she introduced herself as -- and Jeanne. He leaned back in his chair, giving them both a lopsided smile. "Name's Keaton. Nice to meet y'all."

Yeah. He could definitely enjoy himself here. For a shit situation, as Delilah put it, things weren't half bad. Especially with such good companionship.

As the commons filled with laughter and light, color and company, Keaton let himself relax a some more. He went back to scarfing down his meal, not wanting to waste any bit of good food, and listening to bits of conversation between mouthfuls. He frowned slightly when the freckled boy from the fireplace wandered over to warn them of the locals' unfriendliness and the dangers of the upper woods. The locals he already had a run in with the day before -- some whispering as he passed by, a few strange glances here and there. He didn't think they would be that bad to put up with... but the way the boy was spinning it made it sound like the townspeople would have his head off if he just looked at them weirdly. If the town ended up being full of those types of inhospitable assholes that couldn't be civil, Keaton didn't know what he'd do. Maybe fight a few people. That didn't sound so bad, but he didn't want to be thrown in some sort of prison or wherever they punished people here.

(... He would risk going to prison to take a look at those woods, though. Sacred ground or not, just heading up to them sounded like a challenge he was willing to brave. Keaton made a note to mention it to one of the more adventurous guests if the chance ever came.)

Inhospitable townspeople aside, the people in the inn were quite enjoyable to be around. Priscilla's performance, with her voice floating through the quiet air as pure and soft as a songbird's, was so compelling that he couldn't help but clap loudly in awe after it was over. He was never big on playing music -- not that good at it, either -- but she certainly had some sort of gift. He'd compliment her later, when she wasn't surrounded by a moon-eyed adoring fan. Not even moments after Priscilla returned to her seat, a pair of more redheads -- brother and sister, maybe? certainly more redheads than he'd ever seen -- descended from the stairs, the guy making steps as loud as the mythical elephant as they went, momentarily drowning out some of the other noise. The gal cried out "top of the mornin' to ya!" in the thickest non-Crolibian accent Keaton had ever heard, and though he had never heard the phrase before, he called out another "top of the mornin'!" to her in equally thick Crolibian.

The two were intriguing, very much so, but his attention was torn away from them the moment he heard something about snow forts and snowball fighting.

Keaton snapped his head towards Jeanne, eyes gleaming with excitement. Memories of pelting his brothers with snowballs and getting pelted back flooded his mind, and his friendly smile turned into a full-blown grin. A bit of competition and running around would do them all some good. Anything to get the blood moving, especially on this cold little mountain. "Oi, Jeanne, mind if I join your snowball fight?" He bounced his legs, absolutely ready to go. Well, that was halfway true. Keaton hated the cold. Absolutely abhorred it. But it was still better than sitting around in his room and woodcarving all day, wishing that he could be doing something more exciting. Plus, it would give him an opportunity to get to know everybody better, since there seemed to be a big group raring to go outside. "I have a mean arm. You won't even know what hit ya. Whaddaya say?"

 

[vanquishable]

Simona continued smiling sweetly at Priscilla--her cheeks were beginning to hurt. "Yes, yes, it was a privilege, but I'm sure it wouldn't measure up to such a... prestigious organization. I've heard the college can turn anyone into a bard." She folded her hands primly over her stomach, and gave an airy little sigh. Silky, rich little city girl--wouldn't last a month out here. It was tough, and you don't get the thick skin you need lying around in the Westland sun. But, very well. She'd drop it, if only so that she could have the last word.

"I suppose we do have a little something to chat about, but it can wait. After all, my husband's a busy man, and he'll want my opinion on the finer points. So you just get on, make a day of it."

Hardin, of course, had been listening intently to all of the fol-de-rol at once--but had been paying particular attention to the proceedings between Simona and the absolute siren before her. It was funny--the lady was about the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen, but Simmie didn't seem to like her much. Well. He'd never professed to understand other people, much less girls, much less Simona. Perhaps she would eventually come around. Mostly, he was interested in the snowball fight. With her. And many of the rest of the fascinating people--all of whom were considerably attractive as well. He blushed.

"Oooh! Miss--if you don't mind, I'll come too! J-j-just let me get my coat!" he yelped, and on his way over to the coatrack banged his knee on the chair with some force. "Rats!" he swore, knowing that Kava would give him a trembling little telling-off if he said anything worse. Plus, his mother would disapprove, and he really didn't want that.

Still, the boy's energy was by no means diminished, and he scrambled into his coat and darted outside, entirely failing to latch the door on his way out. The draft was... non-negligible, and Simona muttered something unpleasant under her breath.

Jeanne, on the other hand, was still laughing--though, to her credit, she had managed a "Y'aright, kiddo?" It had met, however, with no response. She turned back to her tablemates, smiling affably. "Wish I got that excited nowadays," she said, and shook her head. "Well, Keaton, Delilah... Blondie?" she said, motioning towards Bjorn, whose name she hadn't caught. "Songbird?" she motioned to Priscilla. "'S getting a little nerve-wracking, sitting in here hearing scary stories about the local wildlife. Do y'all wanna come put your money where your mouths are?"

 

[Suyasuya]

"Nah, don't worry about that," Kallon waved a dismissive hand at Jeanne's jocular concerns. "If the locals attack, we'll be armed~" He mimed lightly tossing a snowball in the air and catching it. "And if there's a fort, there's your defence~ See? Sorted."
The part about freezing did remind him that he wasn't wearing particularly warm clothes; Frostbit Arms had been an apt name when he'd first arrived. Well. That was probably an exaggeration, but it'd certainly felt like it at the time. That being said... Aha! He grabbed the bundled blanket beside him and tied it around his neck like a cape. He knew it would come in useful. His eyes narrowed and lips curled into a playfully smug smile, as if daring Jeanne to be able to find fault in his counters.

He caught Delilah's smile and grinned wider at her in return, but it shrunk to a pursed coy smile upon her invitation. "Hmm..." He twirled a finger around one of his curls in faux-contemplation. "I suppose I could join you..." He suddenly hopped out of his seat and slammed his hands down, leaning over the table towards the two young ladies. "If you're ready to go down! Hahaha!"

He slid away from them and looked at Bjorn as he spoke. He inwardly laughed at the prospect of being chased by angry villagers with pitchforks. Must have been the comment about being armed. Hey, if they were as grumpy as Bjorn said, maybe a game would do them good. A village-wide snowball fight sounded like fun.
Bjorn had sleds too! Alright! Them being by the woods piqued his interest, as well. Maybe they could even do a bit of exploring while they were there. There was more to do at Fool's Errand than he'd anticipated, it was so exciting!
"Hey, if you're coming with us, you'd might as well join in, right? No need to be a grumpy hermit~" He flashed a mischievous grin.

He turned back to Jeanne and Delilah, leaning his folded arms on the table. "What do you say we raise the stakes a little~? Losers have to pull winners' sleds. How's that sound?"

One by one, other guests were invited, or asked to join in. His gaze darted from one to the other - it looked like everyone was going to come along! It was going to be so much fun, beating every single one of them singlehandedly~ Hehehe~
But even his enthusiasm was outmatched by Hardin, who in his excitement knocked a chair (at which Kallon reflexively flinched) and rushed out ahead of everyone else, leaving an icy cold draft to blow in. Kallon shivered and pulled his blanket cape tighter, but laughed nonetheless. He liked that kid. So much energy!

Jeanne gave a small role-call to everyone who had wanted to lose to him join so far; Kallon's eyes followed accordingly. Keaton, Delilah, the healer's apprentice, the bard... ... ...He looked back at Jeanne. "Heeey, aren't you forgetting someone?" His lips puckered into a pout.

...Speaking of forgetting someone. He caught a glimpse of the gent sitting between Delilah and Keaton, who he'd fail to notice until then, mostly due to having been too absorbed talking. He shuffled over to be opposite Tucker and gave his best gentlemanly Westerner impression. "Good morning, fine sir. Would you like to partake in getting a snowball to the face?" He paused, briefly glancing away before looking back at the kindly-looking man. "...Okay, when it's put like that it doesn't sound all that tempting, but it'll be fun, I promise!"

 

[graphic_biscuit]

Delilah felt giddy with excitement, wearing the facial expression of a small child with an especially large Freyjaskveld present. She had never thought a roomful of strangers could make her feel so at home. Whatever worries she had about returning home she could dwell on later, it'd be best to have some fun with her new acquaintances.

Her cheeky grin spread wider at Keaton and Kallon's jab, standing up and slamming her own hands on the table. "I'll demolish both of you in seconds," she replied, challenging the two. "Don't be too surprised when I do." Delilah had always been one to get competitive, but it was mostly friendly rivalry. This time around though, things might be a little different. She wasn't going to get taken down so easily.

She winked at Keaton, before stepping away from her chair. She started towards the coatrack by the front door, almost getting knocked over as Hardin zipped past her in a frenzied dash. Delilah blinked and shook her head, chuckling to herself as she reached for her cloak and pulled it over her shoulders. God bless that kid and his overwhelming enthusiasm. The door was left unlatched, the chill from the mountainside seeping into the inn. Her face flushed, shivering, and tugged at her cloak to ward off whatever she could of the cold. She needed to find some better clothing soon, or she wouldn't survive the next few days in this town. Perhaps she could try again at the trading post with her crops she had brought with her, that is if the locals would speak to her.

She turned back around to the tenants of the inn, a smile tugging at her pale lips. "I'll see you all outside, then." she said, slipping outside and latching the door shut.

A shiver ran through Delilah again as she left whatever warmth that was left in the inn, the tips of her ears going red to match her cheeks. Though she tried not to let it bother her too much, it was time to get to work. She shuffled over to a decent looking spot and kneeled down, beginning to construct the base of her fort, the cold snow biting at her exposed hands and legs.

She took a moment to glance over at Hardin, giving him a small smile and a wave before getting back to work. Hopefully, he wouldn't be destroyed by the others in the fight, he was a cute kid. Several snowballs to the face might be too much for him.

 

[loftilyhonest]

"'Don't be too surprised?' Please." Unphased by both her and Kallon slamming their hands on the table, Keaton raised an eyebrow at Delilah. It was a little surprising seeing their ferocity -- at first glance he wouldn't have expected it from either of them, honestly -- but it only made him more pumped up for the game, knowing that the competition was going to be intense. He drummed his fingers against the wooden table, eager to release all of the pent up energy building up inside. "You won't even get the chance to hit me. I'm not gonna go easy on ya." Determination settled plain as day onto his features. Keaton turned to Kallon, nodding firmly. "You ain't exempt from that either, Curly. I'm going all out." After spending years of snowball fighting five brothers to the brink of passing out, he wasn't gonna go down without a fight.

Delilah winked at him as she left the table, and Keaton's eyes widened in surprise. This day was full of surprises, it seemed. First he found out that the main road out of town was blocked, then he somehow got himself involved in a snowball fight, and now the gal he originally pegged as being a complete wallflower winked at him. A little saucy and a lot unexpected. ... Well, two could play at that game. Keaton winked back and -- just for good measure -- threw in a lil' smirk in there, too, to undoubtedly say 'challenge accepted; you're on'.

Even so, he had to make sure that there was nothing edible left on his place before taking on that challenge, even if he was absolutely dying with anticipation to get outside. Force of habit and necessity, he supposed. Keaton was chugging his water down, probably breaking some sort of record for the fastest chug in Crolibia, when a loud noise from the back of the room made him snap his head around. The gangly teen hanging around Priscilla earlier banged his knee on a chair -- and dammit, okay, he couldn't help the loud snort that came out of his nose, nor could he ignore the budding excitement any longer. He turned back to the table and looked at Jeanne as she finished listing off the folks joining the snowball fight. "Oh, you bet I'm goin'. I'm ready to get outta here." Keaton's body shook restlessly. Lord, it had been so long since he'd moved his legs properly. It'd been even longer since he'd been so genuinely excited for something, too. "Hope you're ready ta get beat." He added, raising an eyebrow mischievously before springing out of his seat. After making sure that everything was nice and neat, Keaton jogged off to the front door, closing it behind him as exited for the outside.

You know, even though the cold was most likely invented by evil itself and had zero redeemable qualities whatsoever, there were times when it was nice to feel the invigorating prickle of ice upon his face. The moment he stepped out of that inn was not one of those times. Because the cold that morning did not just prickle -- it stabbed him like a rusty, jagged knife. As the fresh morning air hit Keaton's face, he swore that he was ready to pass out. "Heavens to Betsy!" He hissed, pulling his sweater to his nose. Everything in his body, from his hair to his freezing blood, cried out for the warm embrace of the inn's fireplace. But he wouldn't listen to it, dammit -- not when he wanted to enjoy himself and show these people what he was made of. Fuck the cold, Keaton thought as he walked further into the snow, hissing out the occasional curse under his breath. God, Ma was right. He should've brought a winter coat with him.

Well, whatever. Winter coat or not, he was there. And after surveying the battle zone, eyebrows furrowed and one hand shielding his eyes from the light, Keaton thought it was a pretty good place to be. The land by the inn was about the same as the land back home, except there were a few trees to take cover behind. Perfect for a full frontal assault. As he passed by that gangly kid on the way to the nearest tree, Keaton gave him an acknowledging nod and a quick smile. "Be careful not to trip out here." He said casually -- then proceeded to the tree, rubbing his hands together to ward off the cold.

Delilah was constructing a fort a little ways away. At the sight of her, Keaton's lips turned up in a brazen grin. Oh, this battle was going to be interesting if they were neighbors. They were gonna give each other hell. Well, it'd be mostly him doing that. He'd wreck anyone near him. "Nice lil' fort you got there," he called out to her, voice light and teasing. He squatted down next to the tree and used his trembling hands to pack the snow into the firmest structure he could muster. "It's a shame my snowballs are gonna destroy it." Keaton let out an exaggerated, mournful sigh, shaking his head. "Real shame."

 

[Maree]

Priscilla's eyes sparkled with mischief as they started to get up to head out. She was usually seen as elegant and sophisticated which meant that they would most definitely underestimate her. Besides she had an advantage. She pulled her gloves from her coat pocket and slipped them onto her hands. "Ready to go~" she smirked, sliding out of her seat. Not everyone had gloves which meant that they wouldn't be able to make snowballs as fast because of the cold. She was glad that she always came prepared for anything. "Oh and my names Priscilla. But I am also known as Nightengale soo you can take your pick really" she told them.

Priscilla's eyes flicked over to the two other redheads for a minute before smiling. It was nice to not be the only redhead in the room. She was sometimes called a witch because her hair colour was so rare to see. At least she would have some backup if that happened here. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself before joining the others outside. She was a bit surprised to see that they had started building their fort right outside the Inn. So close to the people who already didn't want them there. Who would probably not want them there even more after they make a giant ruckus with their snowball fight. Letting out a small sigh she ran her gloved fingers through her hair in an attempt to calm her nerves. Everything would be fine they were winding down with a snowball fight and the locals totally weren't giving them odd looks. "Are we really going to cause a row so close to the forbidding townsfolk?" she asked, nervousness clear in her voice.

Priscilla shook her head kind of surprised with herself that she was going to go along with this plan that was going to possibly get them thrown out. "Alright then. I'm using you as a meat shield when they come at us with pitchforks" she said to Keaton as the mischievous twinkle returned to her eyes. Even though the male was slightly shorter than her she would make it work. Then again the handsome redheaded male looked like he was quite tough so she might hide behind him instead. She needed her face for her work she couldn't have it bashed in by some angry locals. It wasn't being egotistical it was just being smart.

After picking a nice spot Priscilla dropped to her knees and began building a nice little fort for herself. Despite her usual style of songs, she found herself singing a little sea shanty. She had picked quite a few up during her travels through fishing towns and such. She usually sang them for her own amusement as they don't really fit with her image. "What will we with a drunken sailor, Earl-eye in the morning!" she sang to herself as she worked. She was able to work quickly due to the protection of her gloves and soon moved on to create a stockpile of snowballs. "Are you fingers getting numb yet?" she taunted playfully, peeking over her fort at the others.

"Never said I wasn't gonna join. I'm just also going to be making sure no one gets hurt" Bjorn spoke with a small smile. It was quite odd having so many kind people around. He didn't really know how to act around so many people with such free spirits. He still felt quite in his shelf but hopefully, he would come out of his shell a little bit more. He was quite good at hiding it but he did get quite shy at times especially seeing as he had always been the odd one out in town.

When Kallon mentioned upping the stakes a little Bjorn's interest was peaked but was a little disappointed by the fact that the upped stakes were just carrying sleds. "We can come up with something a little more interesting than that can't we? Dragging sleds is nothing. There are so many other options like the loser having to be the winners' servant for the rest of the day. Drink a weird concoction made by the group. Don't limit yourself to the simple" he said, smiling softly. Oh he was so going to win the snowball fight. These foreigners wouldn't last as long in the cold as he and Hardin would. He wasn't too worried about the young boy as he had some terrible aim. "You might want to make something hot to drink for when we get back" he suggested, putting some coins on the counter.

Bjorn joined the others outside seeming quite confused by the icy winds that ruffled his blonde hair. He felt sorry for the ones who weren't properly decked out in winter gear but oh well. He found himself a nice spot and began to build up his fort. A few townsfolk gave him odd looks as they glared at the visitors but he just beamed and waved at them. Hopefully, they wouldn't get too upset. When he was a kid they would always threaten to shut misbehaving kids in the mines at night. Telling stories about giant man eating spiders that lurked in the mines at night. Basically, they are horrible people and have always been. Of course, there are good people but like most things, you only notice the negative. After a few minutes, he had himself a nice fort and began working on some snowballs.

 

[capMARVELOUS]

For his part, Tucker remained relatively quiet while the other, younger travelers with him set about conversing over breakfast. He had waved greeting to each newcomer as they entered the common room and sat down to eat breakfast, but other than that, he had been content to simply listen to the chatter being flung over his aged head toward various spots at the table. All while enjoying his delicious bowl of oatmeal. Over the years, he had improved his skill of listening to others to determine what they were like, and there were a few particular folk in the room that were clearer than others. The redheaded woman was clever and held an appreciation for the singing arts; the disheveled woman next to him was earnest, yet jovial; the younger brunette woman was gentle and (at least for now) soft-spoken; and the young lad who had fallen down the stairs was very excitable and talkative.

Speaking of that young lad, he now sat across from Tucker, asking if he would like to join in a snowball fight. Tucker's face crinkled into a smile, and he chuckled a little. He liked this lad. "I'm afraid not, my son," he said in a way that intoned almost parental familiarity with the boy. "My bones are too weary to throw snowballs like I used to anymore. Though I will still come outside and watch; from the conversation floating about here, it should be a real treat to view."