Open The Frost Fair of 1765

[Amnesty Greysoul]

Before this moment, Amnesty may not have known the little gecko now flattening herself against her leg, but there was only one thing to do for someone smaller than yourself and evidently frightened. As subtly as she could, the vixen lowered one paw to rest unobtrusively on the young reptile's shoulder in a gesture she could only hope would be interpreted as she meant it. As for the red-furred vixen whose arrival had sparked this latest renewal of chaos, tripping into a whole crowd of strangers was embarrassing enough under any circumstances. No need to make it worse by staring at the poor beast without at least offering to help her up.

The white fox extended her other paw. "Need a paw? I was just going to go take advantage of the Minister's generosity myself," she said, glancing at Orina with a look of faint amusement. If no beast else was going to help themselves to the provided food, Amnesty could feel a rumbling growl building in her stomach that said she'd be a fool not to do so herself.

And that was when somebeast-- several sombeasts started yelling something about thieves and stopping. Amnesty looked back down at the red vixen, then momentarily at the various Unsmudgeables surrounding them. "Is that you they're talking about, friend?"

@Irene Rightsbeast @Cricket @Orina Emberkin

~*~

Calara, still half breathless in the aftermath of battle and soaked through with cold, icy snowmelt, heard the cry go up from the other members of the BlackShip crew. The otter stumbled a little as she got back to her footpaws, but her voice was more than strong enough as she added it to the chorus: "Messed with the wrong crew this time, mate!"

@Freya McFjorl @Vilde Isdatter @Griblo Jankweed @Korya

~*~

Evva, for her part, had no stake in the aftermath. A mercenary she remained. The feline shook out the largest clumps of powdery snow from her fur as she gathered herself again and prepared to follow her nose to the savory smells emanating from the booth some little ways away. Her path took her past the icerink, where she noted Caden in the midst of several other beasts she did not recognize-- personally-- though certain facial features suggested family lineages that she was at least passingly familiar with. The golden cat gave a polite nod as she moved past. No need to insert herself. But likewise, no need to be unfriendly.

@Caden S. Freemont @Daniil Ryalor @Kinza Rainclaw @Lorcan Rainclaw

 

[Irene Rightsbeast]

irene's intuition about the squirrel's importance didn't fail her. She only new that minister was a very important word, and that every minister was of one thing or another. A ministry of niceties though? Niceties doesn't even sound like a real word. But she assumed some ministry had to make candy and what little nice things existed in this world, including the free food she desperately needed.

"Thank you Ma'am"

she bowed her head, looked fearfully at the wildcat who seemed to have appeared out of thin air, and then stepped to the stand along with the white fox. And then, a flurry of snow landed at their feet.

“THIEF! Red coat! You!”

"Return what you stole, thief!"

"STOP THAT BEAZT!"

"Curse the dark forests above hellgates in my family's name!", That was only a fragment of what Irene yelled out when she saw the big lynx, with the naked cat on her, running straight towards her and her refuge. She would have continued running, but the beast at the stand had already handed her the bowl. She wasn't going to find free food anywhere else, and she wasn't going to run like a madbeast with it shaking in her paws. But she couldn't stay here either..."

"Is that you they're talking about, friend?"

"No! No no no! They are...throwing snowballs at the generous minister of niceties!"

Irene stepped back so that the minister and her guards were between her and the rushing felines, pushing her snout into the bowl and slurping it up as if she were a feral beast. This needed to work, the minister of niceties just needed to do her thing, be nice to her and not so nice to the big lynx and her friends who were right now not being very nice to her! "Me, that is", she added in her thoughts. But there was something that confused the scheming red fox. She pulled her snout out of the now empty bowl, and turned towards the white vixen.

"Did you call me a friend?"

 

[Marble]

She appreciated that Silver was trying, a lot of the people here seemed to struggle with her name and after learning their language it made sense. Miothyle worked quite nicely in her native tongue but up here names were a lot more simple, less flowing with hard syllables.
"Marble is fine if you struggle Silvertongue. I am always happy to share stories of home."

Smiling at the pair and, as Swift picked up the snowball she would make to dive for cover, but rather dramatically struck in the shoulder with a grunt.
"Ah I have been slain" Laughing happily as she pulled herself up out of the snow brushing herself off "This is a fun game though need to be careful not to catch sickness in this cold." Looking between the pair and moving closer to better converse "Practice is practice, yes? I think your friend would do well with a recurve short bow, not too much draw, can have some very beautiful designs to them. Compact and still packs a punch. Our god of music is also an archer, twined to Lady Artemis and the pair are definetly the competative type."

She was about to agree to the offer of cider when her ear twitched in unison with Swift's.
"Apologies Silver, seems we will have to convean more later." Already breaking off in a sprint as she moved towards the source of the cry. The huntress made her way quickly to the path, finding it easier on the cobble than the thick snow. This may not be the forests she was used to but darting between people and over stalls wasn't too different from dodging trees and underbrush.
"Swift go out wide. I keep the tail!" She saw the one in red and the croward already giving chase, but the market was far too crowded to make any ground. The roofs however.

Miothiyle had spent a fair amount of time getting used to the urban enviroment she now called home and after her encounter with the Unsmudgeable she had dedicated time and effort into getting better at making chase or escape through the brickwork. Part of this was learning how to better move vertically over and around structures. A couple of crates to get up, a jumping kick off a wall, vaulting up onto the tiled toof, ignoring the protest of those below. The snow and ice did make it a lot more dangerous but needs must and she made much better gain this way. Fortunatly for her the red of her coat had fadded to the wintery grays and blacks so there wasn't a risk of her being confused for the one they persued. Part of her wished she had her stone bow to try to dsiable the vermin but alas she was unarmed aside from a small dagger at her back but that would be a problem for later

@Korya @Griblo Jankweed @Vilde Isdatter @Irene Rightsbeast
@Silvertongue Songfox @Freya McFjorl @SwifttailTheFox

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

"What the heck-?!" Silvertongue was thrown off guard by the two suddenly sprinting off. "I didn't realize we were crime-fighting vigilantes now!" He commented, making sure he had his lute before scrambling after Swifttail and Marble, the vixen whose name he could not yet pronounce. He tried to run to keep up with them, but he was not as experienced on ice as they were, and he ended up slipping and sliding a lot, losing ground.

"I- hold on, hey!" He called out, but they were gone. He tried to run faster, only to end up slipping and falling unceremoniously on his rear. "Ugh... my clothes are soaked."

 

[Callisto Bluemoon]

Always keen to appear the gentlebeast, Callisto allowed himself to be flattered by Zara’s attention and with a soft “of course” turned to signal the harried staff for another round of treats. The small pause whilst he waited afforded the wolverine with ample opportunity to eavesdrop, tuned into the sudden flurry of chaos exploding behind him as he waited patiently to be served. It would do a Minister little good to look too enthusiastic or to debase himself with something as childish as joining in, new as he was to his dignified role…but he had been robbed of such frivolities as a youngster, denied the sort of play common in the Northlands where snow was always abundant. Ah, well.

Cries of thievery, however… now that was interesting. If they escaped intact after so much commotion, he might just have to keep an ear out for whoever was responsible. The mugs and pastries were passed across and one immense paw extended to Zara, offering the vixen her order whilst he gazed out briefly across the ice. It was quite the scene to take in, but he was not a creature to rush (notwithstanding the fact that the sheer bulk of him rather disqualifying him from anything too hasty) and was quite content with observing. “Hm. Quite the event this has turned out to be. I hadn’t expected snow to be such a hit, if you’ll pardon the phrase.”

Quick eyes fixed on one of the key miscreants, that dishevelled-looking ferret from before whom Ruffano had addressed. Tilting his head to the todd in question he gestured to the action in the same move as popping the pastry in his jaws. “I take it that one’s a friend of yours, then? Quite the…colourful fellow, isn’t he? Perhaps he needs our assistance.”

@Ruffano Quickwhistle @Zara Raposa @Pomodu lu Modokunomulo



-----


“And I’m Mattise,” the sable introduced himself with a polite inclination of the head and flash of pearly white, perfectly sharp teeth. This was not the sort of day to worry much about his identity. Rather he was far more interested in that of this beast who had summoned Nevali. Professor, was it? The intrigue only deepened, and as Matisse watched the young ermine making quick work of the sandwich he had to wonder if it was the result of or the reason why said beast kept the youngster on a tight leash. Eugh. Still, a small part of him could empathise with the plight: he was just several decades advanced and distinctly bitter.

Wait. Wizzard. He bit his tongue at once as his mind screeched to a halt. She had to be joking in regards to the stall or the grift she was running, surely. There was a conspiracy here, he was certain of it. This Nevali was a fascinating weasel, and Levin…well, he was only a youngster but he was possessed of connections. The more information he could squeeze the better, and what better way than to indulge in genuine curiosity?

Matisse scratched his muzzle as he watched Nevali’s efficient breakdown of the area: old habits had whispered for him to volunteer to lend a paw; freshly-painted claws were glad of her confidence. Instead he opted to fold arms behind his back and wait quietly.

“There’s quite a lot to choose from,” Matisse reflected, opting not to add his own acerbic comments about governmental involvement. “Why, just walking through the fair I saw tens of stalls. Mostly Northlands fare, of course. I do have to say, the performance here was most engaging. So can I ask…” he waved a paw between the two other mustelids, “certainly you two know of one anothers’ business, but what field of study is it you and this professor, no doubt, excel in?”

@Nevali @Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv

 

[Cricket]

The comfort brought by Amnesty’s paw on her shoulder was appreciated, if short-lived. No sooner had she looked up and prepared to venture a question to the pale-furred fox (who, to Cricket’s eyes, was quite a pretty example of her species with that different coat), the older beast was dragged away by that red vixen and straight into more chaos.

She would have blinked, had she the eyelids. Instead Cricket settled for snuggling deeper into the cloak Eskila had donated (as far as the gecko was concerned it was hers now), still alert for that sour-faced feline as she witnessed the chaos unfold.

Snowball fights were…not her thing. Much though the reptile would have loved it – any excuse for a little competitive violence – her body heat could not risk rolling in snow and certainly not when she had no hearth to return to. Jealousy warred with nervousness at the sight of so many bearing down on the group and it began to make her twitchy. Perhaps she needed to run before this all went south…

Irene’s call turned her attention back to the young fox and she snorted. “Oldest trick in the book,” Cricket muttered, more to herself but realising in that moment how close she still was to said Minister. She regarded the squirrel for a moment and imagined herself viewing the older beast with cool, wry composure: the wary intrigue was, in fact, perfectly readable on her face as she waited to see what Orina would do.

@Irene Rightsbeast @Amnesty Greysoul @Orina Emberkin

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

Ruffano regarded Pomodu with a gentle warmth that softened the usual theatrical sharpness of his expression. The concern in her voice was plain enough even through the fractured Vulpinsulan, and he shook his head lightly at once.

“No, no, my dear Pom,” he assured her kindly. “The gift is already gift enough. I’ve grown rather fond of it, in truth.”

His smile broadened just slightly, conspiratorial and sincere all at once.

“With a bit of cleaning, I suspect it may yet make an excellent stage prop. A dramatic relic of a particularly generous afternoon.”

His eyes drifted upward again, however, toward the rooftop where Pomodu’s bulging sack still perched like an offering to the winds. The precarious thing made him wince inwardly. He opened his mouth, clearly preparing to try once more to delicately suggest relocating it somewhere less… aerial.

Then the Minister spoke.

Ruffano pivoted instantly, full attention falling upon Callisto as though the rest of the fair had faded to pleasant background noise.

“Friend is perhaps a generous interpretation, Minister,” Ruffano replied with a smooth incline of his head.

“Let us say the Ministry of Niceties has seen fit to assign him to me as a sort of life coach.”

The corner of his mouth twitched faintly.

“A highly unusual fellow. Extremely colorful. Even by the Imperium’s generous standards.”

Another shout of THIEF rang out across the ice.

Ruffano glanced toward the chaos with mild curiosity.

“Calling out thieves has rather become one of his favorite pastimes,” he continued lightly. “More often than not the matter resolves itself once he checks the correct pocket. Snowball fights are particularly dangerous for one’s inventory.”

His eyes followed the motion now spreading across the fair. The situation appeared… somewhat larger than usual.

Ruffano lifted his voice calmly.

“Griblo!”

One gloved paw rose, gesturing lightly through the swirling commotion.

“Before you indict the entire harbor, a moment, if you please.”

---

Griblo Jankweed, meanwhile, had completely run out of energy.

The Blackship crew thundered ahead like a pack of war hounds loosed from the leash while the smaller mustelid scrambled after them, boots slipping across churned slush as his lungs burned.

“THAT’S ‘ER!” he screeched hoarsely, pointing wildly toward the red coat near the food stand. “RED COAT! DON’T THINK I CAN’T SEE YE!”

Another snowball flew from somewhere behind him.

Freya surged forward like a winter avalanche with Korya perched atop her shoulders, and Vilde’s war cry echoed across the fair.

“BLACKSHIP!”

Griblo tried to keep up.

And failed.

By the time Ruffano’s voice cut through the chaos, the ferret had slowed to an indignant stumble, chest heaving as he clutched his side.

“DON’T MOVE!” he shrieked one last time toward Irene, jabbing an accusatory claw through the crowd. “I SEE YE HIDIN’ THERE!”

His ears twitched.

He cast one last venomous glare toward the red vixen before stomping off through the snow, muttering darkly to himself.

“Keep an eye on ‘er… thief’s right there…”

By the time he reached Ruffano he was completely drenched in snow melt, rings jangling and breath steaming in furious bursts. Without so much as a greeting he immediately snatched the chemically heated waterskin from Ruffano’s paw and clutched it to his chest with a desperate grunt.

The sudden motion caught Ruffano entirely off guard.

The actor fumbled as the cider mug tipped, and the pasty slipped. A splash of steaming mulled cider sloshed sideways — landing squarely across the front of Zara’s jacket.

Ruffano stared for one startled heartbeat.

Then composure snapped back into place with remarkable speed.

“My deepest apologies, madam!” he said at once, producing a handkerchief in one fluid motion and offering it toward Zara with an apologetic bow.

Behind him, Griblo had already begun ranting.

“Ruff! Oi've been robbed!”

The ferret jabbed a claw back toward the chaos near the stalls.

“Me purse! Me cigars! An’ the kit’s stick! Red coat right there!”

He clutched the warm waterskin tighter against his chest like a feral dragon guarding treasure.

“I told ye! Whole fair’s full o’ thieves!”

Ruffano raised one calming paw, still attempting to maintain some measure of dignity in front of the Minister while chaos howled behind them.

“Yes, yes, I am certain the criminal underworld shall tremble shortly,” he murmured soothingly.

Then, lowering his voice slightly toward the ferret, he placed a paw on his trembling shoulder.

“Griblo, breathe.”

@Callisto Bluemoon @Zara Raposa @Pomodu lu Modokunomulo @Freya McFjorl @Korya @Irene Rightsbeast

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Before he could even make sense of it, Miothiyle was already moving.

The huntress broke into motion like an arrow loosed from the bow, darting through the press of beasts with a confidence that made the chaos seem almost orderly. One moment she was beside them, the next she was sprinting for the edge of the market lane, already angling toward higher ground.

Swift blinked once in honest amazement.

“Gates…” he muttered under his breath.

There was something almost effortless in the way she moved. Swift had seen sailors scramble rigging in a gale, but watching Marble navigate the market with that same instinctive grace stirred something bright and admiring in his chest.

Then he heard the thump.

Swifttail spun back to see Silvertongue sprawled on the ice, lute clutched protectively in his paws while his boots slid uselessly beneath him.

Swift was beside him in two quick strides.

“Easy there, mate,” he said, crouching to offer both paws and haul the bard upright. “Got ye.”

Once Silvie was steady again, Swift lingered a moment, looking him over with quiet concern. The soaked clothes, the sting of cold creeping in, the frustration written plain across his friend’s face.

Swift rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Sorry, Silvie.”

He glanced briefly toward the direction Marble had vanished, then back again.

“I got carried away there for a moment. I just… I think the world of her skill. Every time I see her move like that it’s hard not to join in.”

His ears dipped apologetically.

“But I’m not about t’ leave ye sprawled on the ice while the whole fair loses its mind.”

Swift gave the bard’s shoulder a firm, reassuring squeeze before turning them gently back toward the warm glow of the food stalls.

“Come on. Let’s get ye someplace warm before that cold starts bitin’ proper.”

The lantern-lit stands weren’t far, their kettles sending up fragrant plumes of steam that cut pleasantly through the winter air. The scent of mulled cider and baked pastry drifted toward them as they pushed back through the milling crowd.

Swift spared one glance over his shoulder toward the rooftops where Marble had gone. She’d taken the high ground with the kind of confidence that spoke of long practice. Swift had little doubt she’d keep the chase alive.

“We’ll catch up soon enough,” he murmured quietly, half to himself.

Another shout echoed across the fair.

Swifttail’s ears twitched again.

Ahead, a small tidal wave of beasts seemed to be surging toward the food stands, all converging around one particularly frantic point in the crowd.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, a voice was shrieking the loudest of all.

Swift squinted toward the ferret in question.

“Gates…” he muttered again. “That bloke is really worked up.”

Swift shook his head slowly as he guided Silvertongue closer to the stands.

“If what the ferret claims is true,” he said quietly, watching the swarm of pursuing beasts bearing down on the unfortunate red coat ahead of them, “that poor soul is in for a world of hurt.”

The Frost Fair, it seemed, was far from finished with its excitement.

@Marble @Silvertongue Songfox

 

[Kinza Rainclaw]

Distracted by the commotion from the previous snowball fight toward the market, Kinza completely missed whatever was happening with the lovestruck pair behind her as well as the passing wildcat's friendly nod. If her brother was saying anything other than agreeing warcries, she was oblivious. Her intent to rain one-vixen-Gates upon the other ship's crew was dissolved in the wake of the uproar about a thief.

"Oooooh, someone stole from 'em an' they ain't even from the Hide? That's not very nice! Let's gerrem!"

Snow balled into her gloved paws, Kinza bolted toward the crowd in support of her once rivals.

"NAAAAAAVYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"​

(I'd tag people but too many to do, you can probably all see and hear her )

 

[Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv]

"Hello..."

Levin didn't say much more to Mattise, he clearly prefered Nevali's company much more but he didn't want to be rude and show it. He looked carefully at the weasel wizzard as she packed her things, somehow they at the same time looked much more complicated and extravagant than his professor's tools, but also simpler and quainter.

"Professor Dowganosyv is a great knower of magic and the dark arts, he has come here only recently and wants to meet other beasts in his field of expertise."

Levin explained to Mattise, before turning to Nevali and thinking.

"If I can have just one more of those things you gave me, please...and something warm and sweet. Oh, I hope neither of those will leave trails on my fangs or snout, he doesn't let me indulge myself"

The ermine must have been blissfully unaware of what he looked like, even with his efforts to lick his snout clean.

 

[Zara Raposa]

The innocent sweetness of Pomodou once more threatened to make Zara a little sick whilst she weighed the balance of whether the red panda would be a boon or a curse if she were employed by the House. Ruffano was a perfect gentlebeast to the anxious creature just as Callisto was being in providing her with her drink and treat.

Just as she began to sip her own cider, the issue known as Griblo made an appearance, casting Ruffano's cider onto her front. Had she been a truly calm vixen underneath, Zara would have taken the apology with grace and moved on. More was the pity, she was her mother's daughter. It took time for her thoughts to boil up to the surface, by which point she had taken the cloth with one spare pawbean, set her food and drink down on the nearest surface, clutched the kerchief against her chest...

"Mr Griblo," she snarled, beauteous femme become scorned wraith. Her refined accent slipped. "Boil yer bleedin' head. I'll give ye more tae fuss about than a few lost smokes!"

@Griblo Jankweed @Ruffano Quickwhistle @Callisto Bluemoon @Pomodu lu Modokunomulo