The Snow That Never Seems To Stop
Who: The Grieving Queen and You!
What: Plenty of people have questions, or more so, vendettas. Come to her castle, or perhaps find her wandering the quiet streets. Ask your questions, or try to attack her (if you want to end up a frozen statue until the end of the month). The sky is the limit.
Where: Fayren, the frozen palace, or elsewhere if you wish.
When: January 10
Notes: Any who fight her will face polar bears and winter wolves, and possibly be turned into a frozen statue. Let me know if you are okay with this. Starting in prose, action available if desired.
The palace, reaching up to scrape the sky, to pierce the clouds and let more of their snow out. It seemed harmless, if enthrallingly beatiful, but that was how it seemed to everyone who was not trapped inside. The front gates were open though, tall metal bars topped with spikes wide and welcoming, as if she wanted or dared people to come to her while she was in Fayren.
Inside the gates, the courtyard was something else entirely. Statues decorated the walkway, made up of all kinds of people. Men and women, elves and dwarves, beautiful, hideous, animal, unknown creatures. They lined the walkway, stood under frozen trees, guarded frozen, unmoving fountains, and populated the courtyard better than any real people could have. They were also extremely well made, so beautifully carved that they seemed alive, from eyes and eyelids to individual buttons on clothing and feathers on a plumed bird.
Any that made it through the oddly beautiful statues would come up to another set of double doors, which would open when they knocked, though no one was behind them. Any that went to the left would find themselves in a frozen garden of beauty, roses like crystals growing from bushes and trees fully leaved with foliage of ice. To the right of the main palace, tucked behind rather prosaic buildings, was a graveyard, the markers clear and well cared for, the place surprisingly light but still depressing.
What: Plenty of people have questions, or more so, vendettas. Come to her castle, or perhaps find her wandering the quiet streets. Ask your questions, or try to attack her (if you want to end up a frozen statue until the end of the month). The sky is the limit.
Where: Fayren, the frozen palace, or elsewhere if you wish.
When: January 10
Notes: Any who fight her will face polar bears and winter wolves, and possibly be turned into a frozen statue. Let me know if you are okay with this. Starting in prose, action available if desired.
The palace, reaching up to scrape the sky, to pierce the clouds and let more of their snow out. It seemed harmless, if enthrallingly beatiful, but that was how it seemed to everyone who was not trapped inside. The front gates were open though, tall metal bars topped with spikes wide and welcoming, as if she wanted or dared people to come to her while she was in Fayren.
Inside the gates, the courtyard was something else entirely. Statues decorated the walkway, made up of all kinds of people. Men and women, elves and dwarves, beautiful, hideous, animal, unknown creatures. They lined the walkway, stood under frozen trees, guarded frozen, unmoving fountains, and populated the courtyard better than any real people could have. They were also extremely well made, so beautifully carved that they seemed alive, from eyes and eyelids to individual buttons on clothing and feathers on a plumed bird.
Any that made it through the oddly beautiful statues would come up to another set of double doors, which would open when they knocked, though no one was behind them. Any that went to the left would find themselves in a frozen garden of beauty, roses like crystals growing from bushes and trees fully leaved with foliage of ice. To the right of the main palace, tucked behind rather prosaic buildings, was a graveyard, the markers clear and well cared for, the place surprisingly light but still depressing.