Open The Frost Fair of 1765

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden shook paws with Lorcan and greeted Kinza when she arrived. The pair were full of the vigor and optimism of youth, and Caden could not help but to envy them slightly. He could not remember the last time he felt such things. It was not that he was a particularly pessimistic beast, but the cards he had been dealt in life from a young age had led to a less than sunny disposition in regards to his experience of existence.

Daniil's comments did nothing to help with his musings. At mention of Vaelora, Caden subconsciously shifted his weight away from Daniil, and when the todd wiped ice from his shoulder, the marten had to stop himself from flinching. Despite his efforts to maintain a steady composure, his expression took on a momentary wince before he rallied.

"Yes, of course, dinner and stories would be delightful. I don't have quite so many naval stories to tell, as I've been a staunch landlubber most of my life. My mother never could convince me that life at sea was better than having solid ground beneath one's footpaws." He chuckled and shrugged. "But I have a few good ones from my years marching up and down the Varangian continent."

 

[Orina Emberkin]

Orina smirked bemusedly at the little lizard. As Amnesty addressed her, the Minister shifted her weight more fully onto the prosthetic limb, causing several of the gears to whir and the articulating joints to give off soft clicks. She pulled up her pant leg slightly for the lizard's benefit to show her where the prosthetic connected with the extant portion of her leg.

"See? I've got some leather padding there between the metal and my leg. I don't feel the cold much there, thankfully." Dropping the pant leg back over the joint, she addressed Amnesty. "Innovation knows its craft well. I've benefited from knowing some of the best and brightest craftsbeasts in the Imperium who have kept me on my footpaws over the years, so-to-speak." She winked her blue eye.

"I hope you're both enjoying the festivities. And please, do try some of the soup and bread." Her piercing gaze swung back to Cricket. "Perhaps try seeing it less as charity and more as a way to celebrate the season, hm?"

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Woodlander Coalition Forces (WCF) [ 17 HP ]	Vulpine Supremacists [ 19 HP ]	Chaos Goblins [ 3 HP ]	Poor Bystanders [ 2 HP ]
Finnian [ 1 / 3 HP ] (-1)	1x NPC [ 1 / 24 HP ] (-13, Fleeing)	Korya [ 3 / 3 HP ]	Dr. Amatis [ 0 / 3 HP ] (-2)
Calara [ 0 / 3 HP ] (-3)		Griblo [ 0 / 3 HP ] (-1)
Evva [ 1 / 3 HP ] (-1)
NPC/Rabbit [ 1 / 3 HP ]
(2x) NPC/Stoat Twins [ 4 / 6 HP ]
(2x) NPC/Ferret Siblings [ 2 / 6 HP ] (-1)
Swifttail [ 3 / 3 HP ]
Willow [ 1 / 3 HP ] (-1, Stunned)
Freya [ 5 / 3 HP ] (-1, +3/Bezerk)

Leading the charge, Finn didn't look back to urge on his troops -- he knew morale was strong, and believed in their courage. The volume of fire coming from all sides told him the vulpinists time was short. Snowballs lanced through the air across the field, some fragmenting mid flight from the ferocity behind them. A flutter of motion caught his eye, and glancing up, Finn saw the mortars arcing gracefully across the pitch black sky.

The assault on the fort was brutal, and the vulpinists confidence was shaken. Half the remaining group cowered behind the snow wall, paws covering their ears in hopes to keep the snow out. "UP! Up! Fight you cowards! It's just filthy woodlanders!" cried the ring leader, kicking at the cowering foxes. A massive ball of slush caught him right in the side of his head, splashing into his ear. He gave a mounful wail, and clutched his head with his paws. "Aaaahh!! Braiin freeeeeezeee!"

But even with defeat at paw, the vulpinists managed to throw out a volley. One of the ferrett siblings caught a snowball in the muzzle and went down -- and Evva and Freya suffered similar fates, catching snowballs aimed at the center of mass. (Not to mention poor Willow, who for perfectly understandable reasons would be singing Soprano for a short time.)

Others began to overtake him in the charge, shouting out various battle cries. (Finn thought he heard one calling out for the University. Given that no student ever loved school, Finn deduced it must have been a teacher. Strange, he'd never pictured a stuffy teacher taking part in a snowball fight!) A bezerk wildcat charged headlong to the fort, appearing entirely unphased by the snowball that pelted her muzzle. Joined by Evva, the two hefted entire sections of the wall, burying two foxes in mounds of wet snow.

And then, Korya streaked past him (in every possible sense of the word). Finn gawked. What mad beast wou--PIFF. And then, Finn caught a wild snowball under his chin, and was sent reeling. Though Finn was too dazed to see the point-blank carnage taking place, he could hear the shreiks and wails of foxes getting snow stuffed down their shirts.

The battle was won. A cheer broke out from the Woodlander Coalition Forces as the vulpinists retreated from the fort and fled into the night. As fate would have it, they would all catch colds the following day -- a stern lesson... for daring to take on the Woodlanders of the Frost Fair.

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

Ruffano drew back from the kiss with a twinkle in his eye that flickered like candlelight in the falling snow. Pomodu’s bashful giggle and her soft, delighted "Danuku" earned a gentle laugh from him in return. He inclined his head to her with easy sincerity, one paw settling briefly over his chest.

"Ah, you’re so welcome, sweet Pom," he said warmly. "It’s an honor to share in such a lovely tradition with you."

With a final smile, Ruffano’s attention widened once again to include the small knot of beasts gathered beneath the lamplight and mistletoe.

"And I must say," he continued, tone bright and genuine, "the Fair has been an absolute delight, at least in my eyes. Joy everywhere one turns. Though..."

He huffed a small, theatrical breath through his nose and lifted one paw to idly squeeze the warming pad tucked beneath his arm, the gesture both practical and faintly comic.

"...I do rather wish it were warmer."

A grin followed, quick and disarming, as he glanced between them.

"Spiced cider sounds simply wonderful after such a wholesome moment," he added. "Would any of you care to join me?"

 

[Griblo Jankweed]

Griblo stayed planted beside Frost Fang, boots half-sunk in churned slush, breath tearing out of him in harsh white bursts as he kept one frozen paw braced against her shoulder.

She was a marvel. A menace. A natural disaster with whiskers.

“Aye, aye, just like that,” he barked hoarsely, eyes tracking the chaos beyond the snowbank. “Little more left... no, yer other left! Hear that hollerin’? That’s ‘em! Send it!”

Snowballs flew. Impacts thudded. Somewhere foxes yelped in outrage.

For a brief, glorious stretch of time, Griblo felt in control again, righteous fury sharpening into something almost competent. Cold be damned, he was doing something about it.

And then Frost Fang stopped throwing.

Griblo opened his mouth to shout another correction just in time to see her hands go not for snow...

...but to rapidly begin tearing off her clothing!

“Ell’s teeth, ’ave ye no decency!?”

“Hush it,” she snapped, already yanking fabric up and over her head. “I’m going camouflage!”

Korya then hurtled off into the snowbank like a lunatic spirit of winter given paws and poor impulse control, leaving a pile of snow-covered fabric at Griblo's feet.

“Camo!? Ye frostbitten feline, get back ’ere!”

Griblo lunged after her, but every step was agony. Slush squelched into his boots. Melt water soaked through his trousers. The cold, no longer held at bay by adrenaline alone, sank its claws deep and personal. His breath hitched. His legs screamed.

“Oi! Frost Fang! This ain’t camouflage, this is...!”

Griblo made it another step. Then another. Then his knees buckled.

He hit the snow hard, lungs burning as he sucked in air that felt like knives. From where he lay, half-sprawled and shaking, he could only watch as the fight surged onward without him.

He saw Frost Fang erupt from the snow like a possessed thing. He saw her hit the fort. Snow detonated. Walls collapsed. Foxes shrieked and scattered as chaos swallowed the structure whole. The noise crested, then broke, and the vulpinists were running.

Cheers went up.

Griblo dragged himself onto one elbow, eyes flashing with fury as he shook a fist toward the celebrating Woodlanders.

“Oh quit yer cheerin’!” he rasped. “I ain’t done wit’ you yet!”

No one listened.

His strength gave out. He sagged back into the snow, a violent shiver finally ripping through him as the cold claimed its due.

“Aw gates…” he muttered bitterly. “Why’s it always me…?”

With a growl, Griblo forced himself upright again and staggered toward the ruins of the fort, waving an arm and shouting with what little voice he had left.

“Oi! Frost Fang!” he barked. “It’s o’er! Stoppit! Hear me! It’s...”

PIFF.

A snowball slammed straight into his face. AGAIN.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Snow flew thick and fast. Swifttail stayed in the action, boots crunching and sliding as he worked the edge of the fray, scooping and throwing with joyous ease. Another snowball left his paw in a clean arc, then another, his body loose and warm despite the cold, breath puffing in steady bursts.

A volley streaked overhead. Swifttail ducked, laughed, and packed more snow, ready to send it right back.

Then his ears perked as a sudden, familiar melody filled the frigid air from nearby. Music threaded through the chaos, clear and lilting where everything else was noise. Swifttail froze mid-pack as the lyrics reached him.

That voice.

His head turned, eyes searching through the churn of bodies and flying snow until he spotted him at last: Silvertongue, lute in paw, dancing and singing like the battlefield was a stage built just for him.

Swifttail’s grin bloomed instantly.

"Mate! There you are!"

They’d planned to meet at the fair around this time. Swift, feeling nostalgic for the snow and cold had come early, wandered, waited, and let the fair carry him along. Though, he hadn’t really expected to be found like this.

Before he could fully react, however, a volley of snow cut through the air and struck Silvertongue in a brutal series of hits. The bard went down in a flurry of white.

Swifttail immediately was at his toddfriend's side, the fight forgotten as he crossed the churned ground in a few quick strides. He dropped beside Silvertongue, one paw already brushing snow from his face while the other checked the lute where it lay half-buried.

“Well,” he said lightly, breathless but smiling, “that’s one way t’ end a number.”

He offered a steady paw. “C’mon. Up you get. Ye’ still got all yer teeth?”

As he helped Silvertongue sit upright, a shrill shout cut across the battlefield. Swifttail glanced up just in time to see it.

A naked brown blur had launched herself headlong toward the fort, while a ferret-shaped popsicle wailed at her ineffectively.

His eyes widened a fraction.

"Stars above!”

The blur vanished into the snowbank. A heartbeat later the fort erupted, its walls collapsing, snow exploding outward, and the vulpinist foxes scattering in every direction. The noise crested and broke, cheers rising as the fight concluded in righteous victory.

Swifttail looked back to Silvertongue, amusement and warmth still bright in his eyes.

“Right,” he said, adjusting Silvie’s grip on the lute and helping him stand. “I think that’s our cue t’ relocate.”

He tipped his muzzle toward the lantern-lit edge of the fair, where steam and spice curled invitingly into the cold night.

“C’mon,” he added with a grin. “Spiced cider. On me!”

 

[Korya]

"Rawrghwwr! RrrrRRRrrrRRRRrrr! I'm a snowbeast! Cowards! Come back and finish the job!"

They'd stopped attacking her with kicks and snow clumps (no time to pack a ball at melee range!) and fled in the wake of Freya's cry and destructive size. Korya lay in wait under the rubble; a new target...? A large target. She cackled in her throat, waiting for the perfect moment to surprise her shipmate. She'd rolled on her belly and rose to her knees, making a space beneath herself to collect ammunition, still hidden under the layers of snow the foxes had piled on her.

Muffled cheering, and a momentary silence suggested the fort had been fully deserted, the war was over... For them. For Frost Fang, war never ended.

Heaps of snow piled atop her, she rose from the wreckage of the fort. Piff! Poff! Smush! Smack! Her snowballs flew, clipping Freya, and then another noise, another BlackShip crewbeast, assistant purser... Alliances always broke eventually in war, she decided.

He just made it so easy.

Korya fell backwards, laughing and flinging snow with all four limbs at her shipmates, her tail thrashing like a dying snake.

"Oof, best birthday ever," she wheezed. "Wish I could see the looks on your faces!" Apparently face-looks were a source of extra amusement. It was hard to imagine.

She stretched out and yawned, sinking into the fort's wreckage. A little shiver crept up her spine, but it was nothing. It was nice just to let the cold seep in for once, to feel the eternal heat of her little body dissipate and become one with the world of winter. Deep inside the little leopard cat was a stillness that yearned to be free, ever caged in a whirlwind of chaotic teenaged Northland energy. Now that energy was nearly fully spent, for once.

"...anybeast seen my clothes and my pokey-stick that Cryle made me?"