Glacelieu's Secrets

The Mood is Write

Mom-de-Plume
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  1. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
  2. Multiple posts per week
Online Availability
It varies wildly.
Writing Levels
  1. Advanced
  2. Prestige
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Nonbinary
  3. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
I'm open to a wide range of genres. Obscenely wide. It's harder for me to list all I do like than all I don't like.

My favorite settings are fantasy combined with something else, multiverse, post-apoc, historical (mixed with something else), and futuristic. I'm not limited to those, but it's a good start.

My favorite genres include mystery, adventure, action, drama, tragedy (must be mixed with something else and kept balanced), romance (again must be mixed, and more.

I'm happy to include elements of slice-of-life and romance, but doing them on their own doesn't hold my interest indefinitely.
Axevrai's Baron Reynaud Ogrefell has a map and a wish-- and the money to fund it, thanks to multiple successful archaeological adventures previous. However, now he is too old, but his dream, supposedly, to delve into Glacelieu Cave still lives.

On his personal funding, he sponsors a group of four to take his partial map (origins unknown) to the cave to try to find the secrets to magic.

Among the party are a gifted Hauteflamme dropout, a suspicious swordsman from Icesog who refuses to show his face, an angel-faced young lightblood, and a young, nameless man who prides himself on preparedness and agility.

Note to self: write up profiles for the party and the baron.
 
The meeting with Baron Reynaud Ogrefell went well. He was polite and jolly, though well-educated on the dangers of Glacelieu Cave-- which he refused to downplay as trivial.

"Before you get to the cave, you'll have to walk through a land that's colder than Icesog in the winter. Dress for it. I'll give each of you an allowance for it, so make sure you're prepared."

Those words proved all too true. The place was bitter cold, and it didn't take long for the travellers to feel it through even their thick clothes.

"Light, th' warning weren't near strong 'nuff. This is 'orrible." The tiny, agile man-- a thief from Assezfourni's alleys named Bo-- complained. He was barely a man-- roughly thirteen or fourteen years old and more than a bit petulant and standoffish. Despite being from Assezfourni, the young man had an Icesogger's accent. "Ah 'ope from some mir'cle the inside o' the cave's warmer'n this." He rubbed his arms through his thick clothing.

The man in black sneered and slowly rolled his shoulders. He'd limped so heavily back at the Baron's home where they met, but now his feet moved with certainty. His hands didn't shake anymore, and his movements were no longer sluggish. "It's cold here... Thank the light." He breathed deeply, only to laugh.

"Yer bein' a right creep, Mel. Stuff off." Bo grumbled as he eyed the older man with distrust.

The group's healer, a young woman fresh from the Highpoint Academy, sighed. "Can we please not do this? If we are going to survive, we need to function as a group." Sophia's voice and vernacular were as formal as her origins. She enunciated as though trained to speak each letter clearly. "I really do believe that we can conquer this challenge if we work together." Her smile was bright.

Both Mel and Bo looked at her, then dismissed her with a mutual shrug-- an Icesogger's 'yeah, we could, but I don't want to'.

"Shall we go? The good Baron did warn us the natives would be far from helpful in this matter." Sophia beamed brightly.
 
If Aure was certain of one thing, it was that he hated the cold. When the baron had told them that it would be cold, he'd expected cold, but this was easily ten times worse. He had bought a heavy, fur-lined cloak from one of the locals in town, but it didn't help much when the biting, frigid wind blew through him. And he was used to the cold, too. As part of his training, Aure was made to sit in baths of ice and sometimes spend entire winter days outside. But this sort of cold was unreal.

As Bo and Mel argued and Sophia attempted to dispel the situation, he shook his head and pulled his hood low over his eyes. "Let's just...focus on keeping moving," he said, his teeth chattering a little bit. "At least then we'll be warmer than we are now..."

He rubbed his arms underneath his cloak, his breath fogging in front of his mouth. As they continued trudging through the frigid ground, he turned his gaze over at Sophia, not for the first time since he met her. He wasn't sure he recognized her from his time at the academy, but who knows? She looked a bit familiar, but maybe he just saw her once or twice in the hallways or she started later than him or he later than her.

Forcing his gaze from her, he took a deep breath, the cold air stinging his lungs, and continued walking. Putting his gaze on the horizon, he focused on taking one step in front of the other, his breathing steady and slow.
 
Bo hurried ahead to take a scouting role, and to warm up better. Being young, he wasn't as slowed by silly things like bones or heavy clothes.

Mel grunted as he began walking, though made no objections. As they went, he leveled a glare at Bo-- an almost predatory look that refused to fade.

Meanwhile, Sophia walked beside Aure. She remembered him, though only his face and name. She glanced toward him now and then, and once caught his gaze. "Hm?" She blinked at him a few moments, then pulled her own cloak tighter around herself.

She'd spent a majority of her allotment on cold-weather clothing. Having grown up in Highpoint, she knew how cold a winter there was-- and that it was warmer than Icesog. A place colder than even Icesog meant she needed heavier clothes than even her warmest winter wear, and she was thankful for her life experience helping her keep at least somewhat warm.

She wore thick trousers with a fur inner lining, and a dress over top with similar lining. Atop that, a short-sleeved tunic to give her some dexterity. She wore gloves made to hug her fingers and allow no air in-- since she would need to use her fingers. Over top those gloves, she wore mittens. On her head, she wore a hood advertised as Icesog fashion-- it was fur-lined, and covered the full head and ears, then laced up under the chin to allow a person more complete warmth.

As a final layer, she wore a fur cloak, reversed so the fur trapped air against her, while an outer layer warded off the worst of the chill.

Even with all these layers, she felt the cold, though her skin didn't prickle. No, the cold she felt was fear.

"I can hardly believe this island is from the same mountain range as my home..."
 
Aure, despite the cold he could feel in his bones, pressed on, not letting himself fall behind. He certainly wasn't going to be the one at the tail end of the party. Going a bit farther than Sophia, he caught the look in Mel's eyes as he gazed upon the youth, and scowled. He hoped that Mel didn't aim to harm him. Even if Mel was just barely a man, he was still a valued member of their party and Aure didn't want to lose him to Mel's moodiness or jealousies or whatever it was that was caused that look to come to Mel's eyes.

Glancing around to the sides, tearing his gaze from Mel, he saw a dark shape not too far away, maybe ten meters. "Wait!" he said, not wanting the others to leave him behind while he went to see what it was. "There's something over there!" He stepped over towards it, his fur-lined boots crunching in the snow.

When Aure came upon the shape, he found that it was a pair of boots sticking out of the ground. He crouched down, digging through the snow with his gloved hands. The boots were connected to a pair of legs clothed in thick trousers, and once Aure noticed that, he pulled his hand away, cursing under his breath. Some poor soul must have gotten stuck in a blizzard or something and died.

"It's a body!" he called to the others, brushing away more of the snow. After a couple minutes of digging through the snow, he revealed the rest of the body, including a face. It was a man, with fair hair and freckled skin, not like any native of the region Aure had ever seen. However, the most prominent feature on his face was a red smile across his throat. Cursing again, frowning, Aure dug through his pockets, finding a couple of coins and a folded piece of parchment, though whatever had been on it was long rubbed off.

"Someone's murdered this man," he said, quickly rising to his feet. "One of the natives, maybe...?"