"Step right up, step right up! Come show your skills in the winter arts!" The announcer is calling out across the snowfield when the couple are still a dozen yards away. "Prizes! Prizes to be had! A keg of winterberry ale to the builder of the snowman our judges rank the best. You sir, and your lady ... come, surely you want to give it a try? Can't win if you don't try!"Rastellion mutters as they draw closer, "I"m starting to feel like this whole Festival is nothing but one elaborate advertisement for this local ale of theirs..."
The look of delight on Immalaine's face, at the sight of the snowmen scattered around the field, gave a glimpse of the carefree, happy child she had once been. Turning to him, she leaned against his shoulder, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. "But it sounds like so much fun! An' look at all the ones people have made already! Surely we have t' make one ourselves!"Rastellion 's expression softens at Immalaine's obvious excitement.
"Alright, we can give it a shot." He moves to one of the piles of loose snow and bends down. The announcer hurries over. "Hey there, not so fast my friends. You'll be needing to buy a ticket to enter into the snowman contest!" Rastellion frowns up at him. "Ticket?" "Of course!" answers the other. "This whole field is for entrants in the contest. You'll need a ticket, if you want to build here." Rastellion glances over at Immalaine, watching as she bites her lip, and looks up at him hopefully, her green eyes beseeching him to say yes. A bare wisp of mist passes her lips, as she holds her breath and waits. Catching her hopeful expression, he sighs. "Good thing my pa isn't here to see me spendin' coin like this," he mutters. He stands and turns to the announcer. "Very well. How much for a ticket?" He feels around in his belt pouch for a half-silver. "Three silvers a snowman," says the announcer. He holds up a hand as Rastellion sputters. "Now now, sir, remember - winner gets a whole keg of our finest winterberry ale. Worth several gold, that is. Think of it as a raffle, and the snowmen just a bit of fun thrown in." He swings his arm around the field. "Surely, a clever fellow like you should be able to make one as least as good as these?" Rastellion glances back at Immalaine, then, reluctantly, produces the coins and hands them over. The man scoops them up faster than a winter nuthatch swallowing a seed. "Now, the rules. One snowman per ticket. You can gather your decorations from around here or in the town. Can't use anything you've brought with you, but anything you find - or buy - in town, that's fair game for your decorations. The judges - including our mayor's own wife - come out each afternoon to view the day's snowmen. And the top three each day get entered in the drawing for the keg. Off you go then, and good luck to you!" He turns away before Rastellion can ask any questions to accost another visitor. "Sir, sir! Step right up. Build a snowman and win a keg of winterberry ale!"
Immalaine smiles in delight, standing on her toes to give Rastellion a kiss on the cheek, before wrapping her arms around him and whispering something in his ear. She leans back, a light blush on her face, as she watches his expression change. Rastellion blinks at her for a moment, then grins. "Now, this'd be a very different kind of festival if they were offering that as the prizes, instead of the ale." He grabs her hand and tugs her down the slope. "Alright, let's see what we can find to build our snowman with!" Almost running to keep up, Immalaine giggles as the two of them head off to find items for their snowman.
After going around outside of Winter-home, looking for things to add to their snowman, the young couple heads back into town. Immalaine, practically dragging Rastellion along, looks about excitedly for more items to add. She stares up at the yule banner hanging from the post, momentarily considering, then dismissing the garish red fabric, before heading up the road, as she scans along the path for something else. He follows, juggling the sticks, acorns, carrot, winterberry leaves, and bird nest they found outside the walls which she wants for possible snowman decorations. Pausing, she looks up at the next banner and turns to Rastellion with a grin. "Mebbe that one would make a good cloak for the snowman," she says, glancing over at him. Rastellion looks around, nearly dropping the bird nest as he does. "You think anyone would mind if we took it down?" Then he shrugs. "Heck, for 3 silvers, they can afford to fetch it and put it back up after the judging this afternoon!"Immalaine nods and quickly reaches up, detaching the banner from its post before rolling it up to carry it with her. "Now, we need a hat ... " she says, half to herself, as she continues up the road, the stoically patient Rastellion following in her wake. Rastellion mutters, "We may need a hat, but I need a drink..." Immalaine chuckles, and leans in to Rastellion as she whispers in his ear, reminding him of what she'd said earlier.
Gareth smiles as he sees the couple wander by and gives Immalaine a cheery wave. Even Daley unbends enough to nod a cool hello to them. "Thank you again for the bread, miss," says Gareth, moving to join them. "Was right kind o' you, and folks here 'preciate it." Immalaine turns to Gareth and gives him a friendly smile and a nod. "Was no problem an', as I said, I've had my share o' bad times. Seems only fitting that I help out now that I can. Ye wouldn't mebbe know where I could get a cap fer a snowman, would ye?" Gareth shakes his head. "You doin' that competition? I'd have advised you 'gainst it. The mayor, I'm sure he's rigged the final drawing. Just you wait and see.. that keg'll wind up going to some friend or ally of his." He rubs his chin, thinking. “As for a hat - hm, most folk here 'bouts need it again' th' cold... but mebbe someone's got an old one as they'd be willing to part with?”
As Immalaine nods at Gareth, thanking him, she looks around at the workers. Seeing a man working off to the side, she decides to start with him and approaches him with a cheerful grin and a nod. "Ye wouldn't happen t' have an old cap I could use t' make a snowman wit', would ye?" she says.
The worker looks up from his hammering with a scowl. "Can' you see I'm too busy for... Oh, it's you miss." His expression melts into a smile. "The one as gave the bread." His hammer pauses and he looks around the courtyard. "Hm... Old Daley over there, I think his niece finally knitted him a proper cap. He might be th' one to ask."Immalaine turns, and looks over at Daley, before turning to Rastellion. "I think I'll let ye do th' talkin' t' him. He dun seem t' like me much." She then heads over to wear Daley is standing, with a friendly smile. Rastellion also gives Daley a smile as he turns to them suspiciously. "Whaddya want?" he demands. Rastellion gives an awkward laugh. "Strange as it sounds... to buy your old hat off you." Daley takes in Rastellion's armload of odds and ends. "This'd be for that snowman contest," he says. He shakes his head and adds - though the two can just hear him - "damnest thing, getting folk running about the town like magpies, and all for a barrel of fake..." He trails off, considering Immalaine. "Well, you did us a good turn with that bread. So..." He strolls over to a woodpile and pulls out a truly battered and ragged old hat. "For two silvers it's yours." Immalaine looks at the cap, which had obviously seen better days, and considers it thoughtfully. Knowing she's not very good at haggling, she opens her mouth to say yes, but first turns to Rastellion with a questioning glance. He however, seemed deep in thought of his own and, going back over Daley's words a moment she paused to think about what he'd said.
"I've got one more," Rastellion nods and says slowly, as he starts to pull the coins free. "if you tell me what you mean about the beer." Daley frowns. "Hm? Oh, that?" His mouth quirks. "Didn' mean anything by it; just something I overheard one of the drovers say. That folks wouldn't pay so much if they knew what they was really drinking." He shrugs. "Idle chat most like." He plucks two silvers from Rastellion's and hands over the battered hat. "Good luck with th' snowman,"he adds, glancing over toward Immalaine and nodding. Rastellion watches Daley saunter away, so distracted by what he said about the beer that he's not even bemoaning the fact that these villagers have separated him from even more of his silver.
Feeling her stomach grumble, Immalaine turns to Rastellion, and tugs on the sleeve of his cloak. "Afore we do anythin' else, mebbe we could stop an' find somethin' t' eat? All this findin' stuff has made me a wee bit hungry." Rastellion turns back toward her. "Hm? What? Oh, lunch. Good idea." He shoots one more glance toward Daley, then shrugs, and accompanies Immalaine back down the cobbled street toward the center of town. "I think we passed a place this morning, just up here a ways," he says.
(Credits and love go to Rastellion, who provided the voice of the male characters in this story. *Blows kisses to Rastellion and grins widely*)
