[network] @Bowman; day 005 9:24 PM; Dramatic Irony [open] [eventual death]

[pointnshoot]

[It was only a matter of time before Bard's habit of packing his tablet up with everything else during the day came back to really bite him in the ass, and it looks like today is that day. If he'd had it out, he might have caught the warning to get inside; why, if he'd even remembered to check it last night after that excitement running into a whole two other people, he might have seen Clayton's own post about getting locked out and thought to travel more carefully today.

But no. Bard doesn't have the right set of habits for either of these warnings, so when he got back to the house he'd thought to spend the night in, the door refused to open. So, too, had those windows he could reach, so before long Bard retreated to the first pile of rubble he remembered that had an actual corner to sit in. With a little effort and judicious application of force, he was able to break the boards he'd been carrying into smaller pieces; it wouldn't be enough firewood to get him through the night, but it would last him long enough to put together the day's notes for Stephanie and get his thoughts in order.

Which brings us to now.]

[Video]

[So. Here's an old(-ish) guy, lit by the blue light of his tablet screen and a bit of amber light that might be from a small fire off-screen. A couple of you might recognize him, but for the most part he's been keeping to the metaphorical shadows so far. Tonight that's not really an option. The vaguely displeased look on his face--well, it's actually pretty normal for him, but in this particular instance it's appropriate.]

I suppose it's going to be unreasonably cold yet again tonight. Perhaps I will endure it to see the morning come, but if I should pass, there are things I would say. First: I am wearing a hauberk and have with me a knife. Struck together, they make a reliable enough spark for starting fires, and anyone who needs such a thing is welcome to them when I no longer do. If you would prefer to use the knife for other things only, I'm by the northern wall of snow next to a house with many boxes full of rocks, some of which should be small enough to use as part of a flint and steel.

Second: if any of you get out of here and find yourself able, please take a message to my children. They can be found in the city of Dale, south of Erebor, and their names are Bain, Sigrid, and Tilda. I would have them know that I died here, and that I would have returned to them if I could.

[He pauses for a moment, thinking things over, before continuing.]

I suppose that's really all I have to say. If anyone wants to try to keep me company through the night, you'd be more than welcome, but don't feel obligated to sacrifice what rest is to be found here.

Comments

@Spoiler; audio

[spoileralert]

[ Dammit fucking shit she hates this place and the faceless @Admin and cold and ice and snow and fucking murderous locking doors. ]

I'll make sure the message gets sent.

switching to audio

[pointnshoot]

[As shitty situations go, this one looks like it's going to set the low-scoring record in Bard's life.]

Thank you. They are... I wouldn't want them to be left wondering.

[spoileralert]

[ She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. ]

You're... you seem like a good father. They have a right to know.

[ She still isn't really sure about hers, despite, you know, her dad putting a gun to her head. Feelings are confusing. ]

[pointnshoot]

[Bard's not the sort to toot his own horn, but he does at least try not to endanger his kids, so the assessment is welcome.]

They are all that is precious to me. Even if they don't know how I came to leave them, they know that much.

[Unlike some dads, Bard only points weapons at the things endangering his kids, not at the kids themselves. It's just responsible parenting.]

[spoileralert]

[ She curls up, hugging her knees tight to her chest and pretending she isn't crying. She doesn't really even mean to say anything. ]

It isn't fair.

@Nocturne; audio

[melodiouspacifist]

The cold is really something else here.

[He sighs lightly.]

I'm not that tired, if you feel like talking. I mean, I don't think I'm going to sleep much tonight and I could use the company too.

switching to audio

[pointnshoot]

Then you are welcome to pass the time with me. I don't believe we've met yet, I'm called Bard.

[melodiouspacifist]

I don't think so, I've only talked to a few people on this thing. I'm Demyx. I haven't met anyone at all actually, just a lot of snowbanks.

[pointnshoot]

I seem to have had some luck there in past days by sticking to the northern wall. I've met three people myself so far, though we've all since parted ways.

[melodiouspacifist]

You didn't find anyone you wanted to stay with? I can't imagine meeting someone and just leaving. I'm not really someone who likes all this...quiet.

@alayne

[mislike]

[She can't imagine being trapped outside, thinking about the inevitable death. This place is horrid, and it makes her curl up inside her blanket a little deeper. Any words seem inadequate, stuck in the back of her throat like a foolish girl. But she knows the cold and the winter.]

I have yet to find real shelter outside the houses themselves. Mayhaps that is what has happened to the villagers here. [It isn't a hopeful thought, but there doesn't seem to be many answers floating around.]

switching to audio

[pointnshoot]

[Some words are better than none tonight, however inadequate they may seem compared to what is coming.]

It may well be so. We must then wonder why any houses are intact at all, and why some are far enough from each other that one may be caught out overnight.

[mislike]

[She fears for that as well.]

Mayhaps that is their design? [To clear this place and bring more victims.]

[pointnshoot]

[That is a chilling thought, and Bard knows from chilling right now.]

Then whoever is responsible should be commended for their excellent execution. [Yes, pun intended.]

[mislike]

[She tries to smile back at him, wanting to ask if he is okay, but it is a foolish question.]

Is there anything I can do? [She does not know him, but something in her feels for him. No, she's never been in the same position, but it is hard not to feel something.]

@lancer, audio, since it seems audioish;

[croi]

[Device is propped up against a wall. In a few minutes an accidentally dislodged football will careen to the ground and hit the tablet, but that would be in a moment.]

Anything else you want us to bring to them, bowman, or just your words? [You know, random possessions.]

audio as well, because audio keeps our manly dignity intact

[pointnshoot]

I have a bear that I thought to give to Tilda, my youngest, though even she's a bit old for such things now, but I begin to think it will prove more useful as materials here.

[Oh, his poor kids. He needs a moment to not think about how long he'd been preparing them for the day he couldn't make it back.]

Perhaps stay and help them a while, if you've time. They'll try not to show it, but they aren't quite ready to face the world alone.

[croi]

I've nowhere else to go. [Well. Why not. He does like irrational promises.] You have my word, bowman. If I find a way to your children I'll tell them what came of you and look after them as if they were of my own blood for as long as they need. And...if I can I'll also avenge you.

[pointnshoot]

I don't know what I've done to earn such a kindness when we barely know each other, but you have my deepest thanks.

[Yeah, he's one of those guys who can dish it out but isn't used to taking it, except replace violence and insults with boundless decency. It really means a lot to him, though.]

[croi]

Ha. [A long drawn out ha.] Well, if I'm taking the time to find them in the first place then I might as well stay there for a while, and if they're as young as you say they'll need the help. Besides, it's not like-

[THUMP. After a moment:]

Sorry. [The football fell.] Ignore that.

Voice only @LELRIC

[armoured]

[This isn't fair, this isn't right! He was supposed to have stopped anyone else dying, and now there are more and more getting trapped out in the elements. He hasn't even met this man before, and still Al's voice is small and soft with sorrow.]

Can you... do you have any more fuel to feed the fire for all night?

[Perhaps a futile hope, but even a small hope is better than none.]

voice

[pointnshoot]

[...Ah, one of the boys. Bard had hoped, somewhat foolishly, that the rest of the children would miss this somehow, or be sleeping already and therefore miss this until it was no longer his concern, but it would seem fate is not so kind.]

A little, but not nearly enough. [He says it as kindly as he can, but it's difficult to sugarcoat one's imminent death while remaining honest.] I begin to think I would have benefited from taking all the chairs I could carry with me.

voice

[armoured]

How much time do you think your fire has before it burns out?

[His mind is running, spitting with ideas, each one as futile as the rest. Bard can't leave his fire without going into the deadly cold, and he can't stay there or the fuel will run dry. Somehow the kind voice makes it worse, it makes Al angry that anyone could so calmly accept death coming for them.]

Do you remember how far the last shelter was that you passed?

[pointnshoot]

Perhaps a couple of hours on the fire, an hour and a half on the shelter. [It's a rough estimate on the latter, having habitually paid so little attention to the clock while in transit, but with the night only getting worse Bard doubts setting out again will do him much good. Better to stay here, where his body might be found and his things put to use.

Still, it cheers him to see such determination in the face of the inevitable. He can't seem to muster it in these circumstances and hates to oppose it, but he hopes it will serve the boy well.]

I tried the windows as well, before I came back here, but they seem to be locked as surely as the doors and made of stronger glass than I've ever seen. You might consider inspecting them further at some point.

[armoured]

You can inspect them yourself.

[His voice is a mix of determination to find some way not to let Bard die, and a sort of pleading desperation. He can't listen to someone else die meaninglessly out here, not after he swore not to let it happen again.]

Don't give up yet, just... pick up one of the bits of your fire like a torch and carry the others. Keep lighting new pieces when the old one runs down, and the slight warmth should help you get back to a shelter... even if you can't get inside, you can use the outside wall for added protection.