vii. unseelie locked. voice.

[vrykolakas]

I need extra hands for seasonal work, mages in particular; mages who can work with heat and fire, all the better. Or weather, shit. This cold is slowing down work at my spire; the Ninth, up on the coast, devilish cold even without the Roc's influence. We lost a young man to it yesterday. I need ice melted, walkways made safe, snow shovelled, water heated, just more people.

Coppers for ordinary workers, silvers for mages, as well as all my very tenderest and heartfelt sentiments of good will. Do something drastic and lasting and we'll discuss gold.

[LOG POST.]

Comments

voice;

[vrykolakas]

Then come. I pay my workers and I need more to weather this fuckery. Are you far from a fairy ring?

[respired]

[pretty sure he saw one a half mile back.]

Not far. Tell me what to do.

[vrykolakas]

Srathmarbh is the name of the place. What can you do?

[respired]

I cannot melt ice. [Better at creating it, tbh.] But I can make your walkways safe.

[vrykolakas]

Then do so. I warn you that it's not a matter of fixing them once; the storms up here are violent and repeated, the weather unrelenting. You may have your work undone. Still, I'll pay you for your time.