DAY 006

[allthekeys]

|| Day 006: GENERAL As dawn approaches, the screaming winds slowly abate, settling to a noticeably warm breeze by sunrise. While the wind remains warmer than the surrounding air, winter's chill has broken, giving way to a cool spring day. The unnatural darkness also begins to lighten, finally retreating almost visibly as the sun's rays come over the horizon. Early in the morning, three guards and Tanny lead horses from the stable. Tanny rides the smaller, silver creature who chomps anxiously at his bit and seems ready to set off the moment she swings into his saddle, though she seems an experienced horsewoman and manages his anxiety with easy hands that only twice require her resorting to trotting him in a quick circle to settle his nerves. The guards all ride large, metal creatures that dwarf the slender heir and her horse. She is dressed for riding, wearing a grey cloak with the crest of the house woven into the fabric, boots and slacks. Though aside from the cloak and a golden ribbon only a few shades darker than her hair that has been used to tuck her hair away from her face, she wears no adornment to mark her. This seems in high contrast to the unreasonably extravagant dress she wore during the night. The Captain is one of those set to ride out with her, and they pause for several moments in the courtyard while he and his second have a long conversation, clearly passing on orders for the day. When they set out, the gate is opened only wide enough to allow them to pass and quickly closed again, allowing none to follow. The last view of them that anyone will have before they vanish into the fog is the girl leaning low over the horse's neck and giving him his head. The melting snow has left mud everywhere, and giant puddles of chunky ice and water mixed together that serve as additional hazards, as it is often difficult to tell just how deep they are without testing them. Some are only ankle deep, while others seem to have gouged their way into the soil and can easily swallow a person. In one melting mass of snow and ice near the town, a woman can be found, barely visible but drenched by the rapid melting. She is breathing, but barely responsive and even less mobile. It may have something to do with the corpses littered around her, small animals that have bloated and drowned or simply froze to death in the initial onset of snow. Bodies like these can be found from time to time in the town, creatures and critters that didn’t have time to find shelter before the abrupt winter storms. The town seems to be digging itself out, and a few people can be seen out and about, patching roofs or tossing down bundles of moldy straw on some of the worst muddy patches. No effort is being made to scrub the muddy buildings just yet, but there are clear attempts at fixing any damage the winter has done. Near a few of the houses noticeable garden patches are being wrestled free of the soil, and even near the burned out foundations some have started to clear the dead brush that winter has left. Throughout the town, the faint sound of a piper can occasionally be heard. The player never appears, but the songs they play range wildly from simple lullabies to more complex workings that seem ill-suited to the simple instrument. During some of the jauntier tunes, a few of the residents take their leave from their working for brief dances, often smiling and laughing as though the music has taken hold of them in some way. Several men and women have even started attending to the burned foundations, clearing away the rubble and seeming to make some plans for rebuilding what once stood on the stones while others tend the garden patches. Piles are made of what bricks can be salvaged from the ruins, and what rubble cannot be reused is dragged to the center of the muddy town square. A young man with sandy hair, recognizable as the owner of the Apothecary, darts in and out of his shop frequently as he helps with the rubble but mostly tends to his own garden. Despite the harsh snow the town has endured there are already several green buds visible through the slushy soil, and he checks on them gently and labels each patch. One woman vanishes into what is clearly a cellar beneath one of the ruined houses, returning with a laugh and a bundle of feathers that shortly resolves itself into a muddy, displeased Crow. Several more are quickly located by the work crew and treated with the same clear happiness. The bedraggled creatures are gently tended, though they do not tolerate being bundled in dry towels for very long, and spend the rest of the day begging for food from the workers. They seem more than happy to oblige them. While the door to the Monastery remains closed and locked, there is some activity in the Gardens today. The young woman from inside—known now to some as Treasa—helps the monks with various outdoors tasks. She kneels in the dirt willingly for the mysterious figures, digging in the mud and helping them shape channels and trenches. If one were to look too closely, they might see a complex irrigation system being built out of the muddy water. Either way, it seems as though the residents of the Monastery are busy making sure that their plants don’t flood. While the monks remain mostly silent, almost skittish of the people who come to find them, Treasa is more openly friendly than she normally is when she answers the door. She is especially eager to greet those she spoke with inside of the castle the other night. She offers flowers and fruits from the garden, the first signs of spring sprouting—strange, given that the snow has only just begun to melt. The Shelter at the back of the gardens is impeccably warm and dry. Those in the Rose Cottage will hear a small knock at the door near midday, though the child who has come to see them will be on her way away before the door can be opened. She is a small thing, no older than six or seven, with long dark hair done up in braided tails that have a single streak of dark red through them. She has left a basket behind, topped with a bundle of lovely Peony Flowers, and leaves to rejoin a man dressed in dark clothes who sweeps her off her feet rather than leave her to navigate the mud on her own. Once they leave the house, it will not be possible to find this pair in the town again. Within the cottage, Rose is working on making breakfast, watched by an unfamiliar man who occasionally rises to steal a heavier pot from her hand, much to her clear consternation. Dist is sitting at the table, reading and taking notes from one of the tomes. The small kitten is making much of a few random pieces of straw beneath the table, chasing them and pouncing on them with great glee. The remains of several bundles sit near the door, though most of their contents have been emptied out and put away. They seem to have mostly contained staples, such as the meat Rose cooks for breakfast, flour, salt, more fruit preserves, and a few yards of good, plain cloth. More candles and soap have been added to the house inventory. By the time the rest of her young men think to attend her, there will be fresh bread waiting for them. Someone has also reclaimed a garden patch behind the cottage during the night, the mud worked into neat rows. At the head of most are small signs, though nothing appears to be growing as of yet. A scarecrow that seems entirely ineffective stands near the wall, and is nearly always playing host to a Crow or five. A coop that must have once held chickens stands in good repair, the hinges freshly oiled and the mesh that surrounds it sturdy. It is currently empty. The girl in the Cheese Monger house looks quite upset, though she is quick to take the money of those who enter the area. Her parents are working quietly in the shop, her mother in the back room and her father attempting to loosen sheets of ice that are still clinging to the roof. In the Castle, the mud being tracked in is clearly causing the Grey Maids some distressed, and at least once one simply flies at one of the Guards about to step inside, shaking a rag at him aggressively. The guards seem unusually good natured about their banishment, and are obviously chagrined whenever they are caught going about their duties and therefore making more of a mess for the women to clean. The castle has come alive as well, though there are still patches of wet snow waiting to fall upon anyone who walks beneath the eves and the mud is a constant source of irritation to anyone who might be out and about. In the Gardens some bold plants are putting up green shoots, and a few of the birds in the Aviary have started to rake nests into order. The Stable Boy has let the horses and other animals out into paddocks to give them a chance to feel the new, warm air upon their skin. The dogs from the kennels are being walked by several of the guards, as are the young Feral Deer, which seem to be on their way to being halter broken, much their current confusion and displeasure with that situation. The Cook is hard at work in their domain, though they seem somewhat distracted today. There are several moments where the caretaker pauses in the middle of a task, staring at the far wall of the Kitchen intently, though they say and do nothing to indicate what might be bothering them. All down the hallway of the Second Floor, the bedroom doors have calmed and those that are accessibly can safely be opened. Most are in some degree of disarray, although the Crystal Bedroom is mostly undisturbed save for heightened feeling of unease. A Guard stands watch at the locked door that still shows signs of smoke stains, and nothing will move him from that post. Another can be seen at dawn leaving the Silver Bedroom with an arm full of the restraints and heated jewelry that had previously bound the Silver Gentleman. The water in the Basement is ankle deep on most by now, with traces of mud leaving the water murky and smelling faintly of rot. The Pit is completely full of water now, with no trace of whatever may have been trapped in it during the night left behind. Occasionally someone circling the pit will encounter resistance where nothing seems to be, and hear the faint sound of a bell ringing. Rarely, if the person persists in running into the spot, they will feel something shove at them. Those who persist beyond the first shove will hear someone grow lowly and say a single word. "Go." The craftspeople are unable to work due to the water. Most seem entirely content to flop down and take the day of rest for what it is. In the Tapestry room, the young woman there is sitting on her bed with a hand loom spread over her lap, her bundle resting against her hip. She works quite cheerfully on whatever she is making, fingers dancing over the loom and feet safe from the dirty water invading her room. Anything on the lower shelves has been moved up to keep them from damage, but she appears otherwise not bothered by the water. In the Carpenter room, the man sits on his bed, legs crossed, with a small piece of wood being worked between his hands. He uses a knife for most of the work, though occasionally he smooths a finger over the design, almost as though he intends to smooth the wood. The figure that slowly takes shape over the course of the day is clearly a doll of some sort. In the Porcelain the woman is sleeping beneath a blanket, curled up in on herself. She will wake sleepily to gaze at anyone who comes into the room, but otherwise seems unwilling to bother with those who might be willing to bother her. In the Pottery room, the young man is laying on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes as though to dim the light of the room. He appears to be trying to sleep, though it is apparently difficult for him. He lifts his arm often to gaze down at the water, nervously checking the level of it. In the Glassmaker's room, the small lizard is barely visible; the bed's been pulled closer to the kiln, with only the tip of a tail on one end and the tip of a nose on the other visible peeking out from under the blankets. The fire has gone out beneath the grate in the Generator Room, and the men chained there are sitting down on the path. Many appear to be sleeping, though a few sit with their heads tilted up, letting the wash of water run over their faces and into open mouths. They do not seem to care that the water is filthy, and instead treat the flood almost as though it is a religious experience for them. In the Servant's Bath a woman is still kneeling on the floor, humming to herself, her long hair pinned out of her face. There is no trace of the blood that filled the room during the night, and instead she makes herself busy with a basket full of laundry. She does not seem to mind the water sluicing over the floor, though she does carry her basket full of wet clothing upstairs to hang on the line outside, rather than leave it to molder in the damp basement. Though everyone will know for certain that her hair is dark, no one will find themselves able to recall what her face looks like well enough to describe her. The tune she hums does seem familiar, as though it echoes one they must have heard in childhood. Some will find themselves picking it up as they go about the day, perhaps not even realizing that she was the source. The Crows have, by and large, settled from their obvious fright during the night. They can be found sitting in windows or on doors that have been left open, many grooming their feathers with an air of indignity. Gilly Seems to still be of a mind to follow Kaito around, though he mostly makes a nuisance of himself and is not all that helpful. The Scaled Boy is sitting near a bench in the garden, arms wrapped around his legs and seemingly ignorant of the fact that he is getting completely covered in mud. He will quickly scuttle out of the way of anyone who approaches, but remains near to the bench for the entire day. The two small gryphons are wrestling about in the mud, attended by several of the puppies. Anyone who happens to be in the courtyard keeps a close eye on them, and most will pause for a few moments to speak to them gently or bribe them with a bit of beat or pastry. They seem entirely willing to interact with anyone who pauses to admire them, though mostly distracted by their game. Large, brightly colored butterflies can occasionally be found in the twists and turns of the garden. They seem faintly luminescent, but are difficult to catch, easily sweeping up beyond the fingers of any who try to touch them. A while after dawn, for those who manage to struggle through mud, slush, new growth, and the occasional moving plant that seems to have woken up cranky for spring, there is a small area deep within the garden where a man dressed in peasant's clothes and a hooded cloak is quietly working on clearing and tending it. The Green Man stands still and dormant at one side of the clearing, easily mistaken for a failure at topiary; one of the crows is not far away in the cleared area, rolling on the ground and occasionally jumping at a small wooden ball. The man is warily watchful of anyone wandering into the clearing and has not been seen around the grounds before. The chores for the day have been assigned: Dorm 18 - Groundskeeping/Garden Dorm 19 - First Floor Dorm 20 - Kitchen Dorm 21 - Second Floor Dorm 22 - First Floor Dorm 23 - Groundskeeping/Garden Dorm 24 - Groundskeeping - Roads, Yard, Stables/Outbuildings Dorm 25 - Basement Dorm 26 - Groundskeeping - Roads, Yards, Stables/Outbuildings Dorm 27 - Basement The Gardens share the mess previously described for the rest of the grounds, with the added bonus of deadwood, fallen branches, and disturbed earth. The first floor has muddy rivulets drying along the walls from the flooding, although the water is gone.