Player Plot: Winter Isn't Coming, it's Already Here

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Who: Everybody who signed up for the event.
When: November 23rd-30th
Where: The Uncharted Territories
What: Frisk leads an expedition into the North to try and find Hades. It doesn't go well.
Warnings/Notes: Post a toplevel to each of the segments below if you want. Encounters will be posted under the appropriate toplevel. For combat, I'd appreciate it if you put where your putting your passive job stat boosts in the subject line of your first post, plus any other boosts your character may have. Thank you!


THE STAGING GROUND (DAY ONE)
The directions that the volunteers have been sent over mail lead to a chocobo ranch just a day away from Armstrong Fort. For a groundbreaking journey into the unknown, the staging ground for Frisk’s expedition isn’t all that impressive. A quaint, if run-down, farmhouse lies next to the chocobos’ grazing patch, where Frisk can be seen arguing with a surly-looking Elezen. White chocobos coo at the new arrivals next to a mound of barely organized high-quality camping gear, staring at them curiously (or blankly, depending on how much intelligence to ascribe to chocobos). It’s a brisk November morning, and the cold bites into marrow of one’s bones as frost-encrusted dead grass crunches beneath the chocobos’ feet. Bleak grey clouds block out the sun, threatening snow but never quite delivering. Resignation and bleakness permeate the air. This certainly isn’t an auspicious start to an already dubious quest.

INTO THE VAST (DAY ONE)
The first day of the expedition is, in a word, boring. Dreary, depressing, monotonous, and several other words of similar caliber would also be apt descriptors. The moody weather doesn’t change through the long hours of plodding towards Armstrong Fort, the clouds oscillating between grey and sullen, and black and intimidating; but always refusing to actually burst and bring down snow on the party’s head. Not even random encounters deign to make an appearance to spice up the day, due to the extensive efforts of Tark Varentain’s military. Perhaps the only redeeming factor of this first day is that the flat terrain and docile chocobos make the actual riding of the birds a breeze, with only the most inept of chocobo riders--such as Frisk--falling off or bruising their rumps through other means. With MogNet reception growing spottier as the team approaches the Claus Snowfields, the only way to pass the time is with conversation.

ARMSTRONG FORT (NIGHT ONE)
When Armstrong Fort appears on the horizon near sundown, it brings a sudden change in weather. Snowflakes begin falling from the sky, increasing in numbers and force as the expedition party makes its way towards the imposing fortress. After just thirty minutes, it’s nearly impossible to see ten feet past your chocobo’s beak. Thankfully, the white chocobos are used to such conditions, so the expedition party still makes good time. The party arrives at Armstrong Fort an hour after the inclement weather begins, and they’re greeted by grim guards who refuse to let them in after a solid fifteen minutes of arguing with Frisk, despite the permit for lodging that they display.

Inside, the fort is just as bleak as the outside, although in a significantly different way. Primarily elezen and human soldiers huddle around sputtering fires on the walls, peering through the snowstorm looking for any signs of monsters. The cries of the wounded echo from the medical hall, although all of the soldiers remain stoic even to their comrades’ pain. If pressed, one of the guards will begrudgingly explain that without a regular shipment of mana potions, their healers often can’t use magic on every wounded soldier, forcing them to do it the old-fashioned way.

The empty bunks that the volunteers are escorted to are uncomfortable, cold, and barren, but it’s marginally better than sleeping on the floor. Marginally. But whatever slumber the party gets is interrupted at one in the morning, when a pack of ferocious yetis attacks the walls. The soldiers stationed at Armstrong Fort are used to such assaults and don’t need any help fending off the monsters, but if any of the adventurers give their assistance anyways, they’ll earn the guards’ grudging respect and perhaps a little something for their trouble.

CLAUS SNOWFIELDS (DAYS TWO AND THREE)
The volunteers are awoken just before the crack of dawn, dragged (by force if need be) to a breakfast of heated ration block and hustled out the door before the sun would even peek over the horizon if it wasn’t completely obscured by the endless snowstorm. From there, a boring journey becomes downright miserable.

Everybody has to huddle uncomfortably close together on their chocobos to keep from losing each other in the oppressive whiteness of the storm. Even the high-end survival gear that the volunteers are wearing only slightly blunts the biting edge of the cold, the raw frigidity of the environment digging deep into the marrow of the bones and nestling there like some twisted parasite. The white chocobos, as surefooted as they are in this environment, struggle against the howling gales, each step forward seeming like a monumental accomplishment.

It isn’t long before all sense of direction is lost. Compasses stop working just a few hours in, their only use being pointing a way vaguely forward to venture towards. The only reliable way to tell the time is the frequency and strength of monster attacks; as the day inches towards night at an agonizingly slow pace, more and more monsters bound out of the snow to savage the party. At the start of this leg of the journey, packs of roving monsters only came once or twice every hour. But as the hours grind past it begins seeming like the party can’t have five minutes of peace before being interrupted by some manner of beast. It’s not just yetis and ice elementals, either: there are strange, exotic animals, all the apex of physical perfection that comes with the ability to survive in such a harsh environment. Magical constructs such as ice golems and undead dressed in the clothes of other explorers also sometimes come charging out of the snow at the party, forcing a confrontation.

Comments

ARMSTRONG FORT

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DARKNESS FALLS (NIGHT TWO)

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When it’s finally time to make camp, the mood is sullen. Frisk manages to build a roaring bonfire using some magical tools they acquired for this very purpose, but it still barely feels slightly warmer than lethally cold. The snow shelters improve things marginally, but it’s still difficult to sleep with the roaring of monsters entwining with the howling of the wind. Monsters besiege the camp, although most avoid the camp due to the anathema of fire, and watch shifts are embattled throughout the night.

Pitch black skies turn to dirty while, marking the coming of morning, and just like that it’s time to get moving again. Somehow, it’s even worse on the second day.

DARKEST HOUR (NIGHT THREE, CLOSED TO FIRST WATCH)

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Disaster strikes on the third night. After the shelters have been set up, a particularly powerful wind strikes, collapsing them and trapping everybody inside. At first, it seems that they’ll simply be stuck with a night of no sleep as they try to reconstruct the snow shelters. Then… the ground starts to shake. A massive silhouette becomes visible through the storm, wielding a titanic sword. Its footsteps shake the ground as it approaches the camp.

What do you do?

SALVATION (NIGHT THREE)

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Finally, salvation has arrived. The pair of hunters, introducing themself as Kreska and Tlasaz, leads the expeditionary force through the night. The odd stone orbs that both of them carry at their belts parts the curtain of snow around the group and even makes the temperature somewhat bearable as the party pushes through the darkness towards the reprieve that Kreska and Tlasaz promise. Whether you believe the hunters or not, trusting them is your only option if you want to make it through the night, as they provide mobile shelter from the deadly storm and killer monsters lurking outside the dome of light. Any beasts that dare try to attack the group are quickly brought down by the hunters’ geomancy and whatever attacks the party can bring to bear.

BRIGHTEST LIGHT (DAY AND NIGHT FOUR)

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As the night begrudgingly ends, the snow miraculously begins to let up. At first it’s barely noticeable, with only those looking closely able to notice that the view outside the magical dome is slightly less opaque. But as the party grows closer to what Kreska and Tlasaz swear is their destination, the weather mellows to a mundane blizzard, then finally to a normal, run-of-the-mill snowstorm. When the camp comes into view at daybreak, the party is greeted with the beautiful sight of the actual sunrise, the clouds cleared away in a large radius around the camp.

Dozens of yeti fur yurts capped with the same stone orbs that Kreska and Tlasaz carry are all clustered around a massive, roaring bonfire fueled by what looks like fire elementals trapped in small shrines. Small children quickly scamper towards the group, gawking at the expedition, asking far too many questions to keep up with. The adults in the camp also spare a few confused glances at the party, but otherwise continue with whatever tasks they’re attending to: skinning yetis and other animals, maintenancing crossbows and glaives, sewing clothes, fixing cracked orbs, practicing geomancy, and trading in stalls around the bonfire. After a brief meeting with the elders, Kreska and Tlasaz let the group know that they’re welcome to rest the day and night in the camp while they recover, give them what little rations the camp can spare and point them towards a mining town further north which may contain the answers that they seek.

HAVE A MERRY STARLIGHT (DAY FIVE AND ONWARDS)

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With the tribe's rune spheres, the party is able to make fast progress through the territories towards the town that they've been directed towards with little interruptions. The temperature inside the dome of light is pleasantly chilly, and the party may even be able to take a few of the layers they're wearing off to feel the brisk breeze. Unfortunately, the tribespeople weren't able to offer much in the way of rations, and considering that all of the food they brought with them was lost on the third night, the expedition must return to Safer Osu soon or risk starvation.

But they can at least explore the abandoned town before they must turn back. When they finally arrive, the village is blanketed in snow, and ice, and from the looks of it, has been abandoned for generations. There is no mognet reception here, and no airships cannot land in these parts, so the former inhabitants would have been incredibly isolated. There are a few houses, a couple of old shops with bare shelves, a mine entrance that has collapsed and frozen over--it is a barren husk of a town.

Only one of the houses has its door unlocked, and next to it is the town's only tree. The evergreen is somehow still vibrant and alive despite the harsh weather, and a single word is carved into its trunk: HOLIDAY. The same message is engraved in the entrance of the mine. Another point of interest is an empty, barren field on the edge of town, completely devoid of snow and ice of any kind. As soon as a flake touches down, it disappears.

At the center is the statue of a hooded figure.