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Message: <blockquote data-quote="spyscribe" data-source="post: 1857766" data-attributes="member: 5808">Part the Seventy-ThirdIn which: Eva shows off her survival knowledge and Anvil has nothing to say.In the dark of a makeshift snow cave, Eva’s voice squeaks out, “What was that?”“What was what?”“Something brushed across the back of my neck.”A pause.“Sorry.  That was Euro.”“Oh.”“Can we get some light in here?”There is a shuffle in the darkness followed by Anvil’s incantation as he casts light on the end of his staff, and soon the dim hovel is lit with the bright, cool glow.  The shelter from the blizzard is makeshift at best, dug into a snow-drift with barely enough room for the entire group.  It only takes the members of the party a few seconds to realize that being stuck in a snow cave is not made more interesting by being able to see whose elbow is jammed in your face.But then, exactly an hour after it began—and just as suddenly—the blizzard stops.The party wastes no time in digging their way out of their cave.  The good news is that the horses have neither run off nor frozen to death.  The bad news is that the already deep snow has become even deeper.Eva brushes snow out of her hair.  “Okay, I know I’m a city girl who doesn’t know anything about this stuff, but that blizzard wasn’t natural.”Reyu nods.  “You are correct.”“So what caused it?”“I do not know.”Lord Hiru clears his throat.  “There’s a peasant village not too far from here where we should be able to take shelter overnight, but we’ll have to make good time if we’re going to reach it by nightfall.  We’d best press on.”The party does.A few hours later, another flash blizzard hits.  Again, it lasts for an hour and then stops as abruptly as it started.  Knowing what to expect, the group is able to capitalize on what little warning they have, everyone moving quickly to secure the horses or dig the shelter from the moment Reyu and Benedic notice the change in the air that heralds the sudden snow.**********Several hours after sunset, the party comes to the peasant village on Lord Fau Meen’s land.  Some dozen mud huts, without windows and only rough curtains for doors sit in a wide circle around a central patch of dirt, currently covered in several feet of icy snow.  At the north side of the circle are two larger wooden buildings.  “What are those?” Anvil asks.  “One,” Hiru explains, “is the house of the village Chaplain, the serfs’ community leader and spiritual guide.  The other is the tool shed.”Eva leans over to Lira, trying to keep her voice down, “Is it just me, or is the tool shed better built?”“It’s not you,” Thatch answers her.Reyu’s eyes narrow, and not because of the biting winds.  “Do all peasants live in this manner?” she asks Hiru.Hiru shakes his head.  “They live in the manner that their Lord allows them too.  Lord Fau Meen is not known for his generosity… but I’ve heard of worse.”“He must not be doing too well,” Lira comments.“What makes you say that?”“What does it say to your neighbors that you can only afford to keep your workers in mud huts?”Anvil decides to ignore the socio-political debate and, striding up to the door of the Chaplain’s house, knocks on the door.  He can’t help but notice that the door is noticeably smaller than its frame, and that snow has been deliberately piled against the exterior walls, in a last-ditch effort to provide added insulation to the plank walls.The door swings open to reveal a young peasant, he cowers in the doorway, whether out or respect or the cold it’s hard to tell for sure.  Behind him, about fifty villagers are huddled together, crammed into a space that can’t be larger than fifteen by twenty feet.  “Yes, my Lord?” the peasant asks.  “What do you require of us?”Anvil is actually at a loss for words.</blockquote>

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