Central Plaza

Wendy scoffed again, disbelief evident in that single exhale of air.

"Yeah, well, if it's anything like the last dragons I faced..." she began, but let it trail off as Roy began to ramble again. She turned her head to look at him and couldn't help the pretty smile that turned on her face, accompanied with a small laugh as the guy got distracted by cream puffs.

Then again, she also got distracted by cream puffs, and was easily pulled along with Roy, her gloved hand comfortable in his as Ollie the Golden Retriever loped along with them. She blinked when the cart mistook Roy and Wendy as a couple, and she let go of his hand when Roy gasped in what seemed like offense and made to deny it.

Which, of course he should, but Wendy still felt awkward.

"Nine copper," she said quickly, to save everyone from the embarrassment and pulled the coins from her pocket, handing them over and quickly snapping up the cream puffs in the paper bag they'd been put in. She had no idea what was in the center of any of them, either -- it would be almost like roulette. Gesturing for him to follow, they moved closer toward the frozen fountain as she opened the bag and the warm sweetness of the cream puff cames floating upward.

"I've never had these before. We don't have them at Loxnighton," she told Roy, then caught her mistake as she began to cough violently to the side.

Pushing himself along on the sled and grumbling all the while as he had to slice bits of himself off and throw them forward to let his mode of transportation go along, he looked up at the dragon and other business going on. He was now very angry. People were happy, which therefore meant he was in fact not. Why should they be happy? They'd die! Eventually, anyway. He wasn't going to mess with a dragon and a witch even if seemingly of the "it's not just a phase mother!" variety. 

No, for now he wanted to remove the source of happiness to restore something akin to his own brand of justice. The snowman lowly pushed himself along on the street, but whenever someone's gaze fell upon him he'd go completely still, albeit perhaps his sled would still slide on for a little from that speed it had gained prior. Otherwise, it would seem as though he was always there before, wherever he was. Thus, he or rather it inched along to the seller of "cream puffs," nose at the ready....

As the festival continued, a woman strode in wearing an ensemble of leathers and furs. Between her tanned and wrinkled skin to her piercing stare, she seemed a bit rough, but she didn't seem to be carrying any weapons.

She led her horse over to one of the numerous bulletin boards around the plaza, where she had been leaving requests for her caravan, stating that they needed tradesmen, guards, and various other company for their travels, and where to find them if they were interested. Soon after, she departed, deciding not to stay for the festive holiday.

Khulan took a good moment to study the young woman who inquired into her business. She was similar to the older woman in build and was managing to carry a rather hefty weapon and its ammunition. Her scanning stopped at Hilde's eyes. Never once did she try and break contact as she spoke.

"Travel. I am Khulan, and I have a caravan who will be visiting mines in this area. We need more people." She nodded her head toward the younger woman's bow. "Like yourself. Come to the farmlands if you wish to follow."

She certainly didn't spare words.

A man, who with context must clearly have been a labourer from the vineyard, worked his way around the city's Plaza, attaching notices to every post and noticeboard advertising the grand re-opening of the Châteu de Oubliés. Having spread the word in the Plaza, he then moved on to somewhere else in the city. 

The stage is set and the time is right. The yule log is in place, the barriers are erected, and the crowd is assembled. People begin to murmur as the sun — clouded over as it is, starts to dip past the horizon. They’re impatient, and rightfully so, because it’s damn cold outside. They would quite like to get this over with and get back inside, somewhere warm.

Standing at the base of the yule log, Lady Naoki feels much the same way. She’s never one for the cold, and today is no exception. For this reason, she has chosen to wear one of her larger red coats — the double-breasted sort, with a high collar and appropriately regal trimmings. She’s paired this with an overly-long gray scarf that Grandma knit, the ends of which flap brazenly in the wind.

A set of stairs has been hastily erected against the side of the log’s enclosure. Though it appears far from sturdy — as seems to be the trend with such constructions, it ought to be enough to fulfill its purpose tonight. At least, that’s what Lady Naoki hopes as she begins to ascend.

With each step she takes, increasing numbers of eyes turn to look; a hush falls over the crowd. The fact presents itself: The Empress has chosen not to wear anything resembling pants.

This stylistic choice is widely appreciated throughout the crowd, and by the time she’s reached the top, The Empress has their effectively undivided attention. For three beats, all is silent, and the wind gusts a bit. (Much to everyone’s excitement.) Then she begins.

“People of Isra!” Her voice rings out clearly through the wind — courtesy of some magical trickery.

“Friends! Neighbors! Citizens! Visitors! Strangers!” With each word, Naoki waves her torch in large arcs, pointing it at seemingly random portions of the crowd.

“Welcome, to the First Annual Yuletide Celebration! The beginning of a tradition!”

“As pre-cataclysm history goes, something called the Yuletide was once celebrated across the world; it was a time of peace and merry-making. Sources differ on the themes behind the holiday, but common are these: charity, feasting, fertility, and the celebration of successes and good harvests.”

“In the time since Isra’s founding, we have found much success. While other nations falter and collapse under the pressures of poor leadership and lack of direction, we have stood strong! From nothing, we have built an entire Empire, where no one goes hungry, and all are free from the shackles of oppression! We have grown, we have prospered, and today, we stand proudly as the greatest power in the land!”

“So, as these winter months set in, I say, why not? Why not celebrate, as they once did long ago? Let us now take some days to rest on our laurels! To give unto those less fortunate and those dear to us! Let us feast; let us drink! Let us love, and ensure many strong generations to follow!”

“And finally, let us celebrate. Let us celebrate what we have accomplished and what is yet to come -- those closest to our hearts and our most far-flung countrymen! To Isra! And all that is good in this world!”

With a suitably theatrical movement, The Empress hurls the torch over the wall.

The effect is immediate.

There is an audible roar as the fire spreads the entire length, and instantly consumes the log. It blazes some fifty feet up in the air. Along with fire comes the heat, a great big wave of it, washing out across the plaza. Some hats in the first few rows of the crowd are blown off, and poor Naoki is very nearly knocked off her platform.

Skarlet was also in attendance but standing off to the side. Though her mother was in the spotlight, Skarlet would catch some attention as she was wearing less clothes than usual. Winter was a favorable season for her since the sun wouldn't be around as much. Her outfit was a festive red white fire trimming it, it was a thought provoking outfit with a lot of the thoughts being 'she must be so cold over there, I wish I could warm her up'.

Skarlet cheered her mother on , when she almost fell off she was worried but it seemed everything was just fine. Skarlet occasionally waved to the crowd and had fun semi flirtatious interactions.

Among the cold crowd full of cheers, the figure of the poison witch hung among them like a cloud of smoke waiting to suffocate the light around it. Then again it was likely the scent of firewood that clung to her, as she had made her shop rather cozy before she had left. Whilst she didn't mind the cold, her customers had a very different idea of what was comfortable.

The mysterious witch could hardly understand people's excitement whenever the wind would blow. Then again, she was not familiar with this empire that had up to that point only existed for a fraction of her lifespan. Too many things to keep up with.
The only thing that mildly impressed Belladonna was the marvelous display of magic that shone over the sky! Finally, something she could offer some respect. Silvery eyes followed the trail of magic to the rooftops. No doubt there would be an opportunity to give her praises at some point during the night.

Bella rubbed her leather gloved hands together as if to warm them up, causing little magic sparks to jump from them. Such a wonderful gathering.. it would be a shame if someone pranked it. While devising a mischievous plan, the witch ran her fingers along her oddly fitting witch hat decorated full of bright holly, appropriate for the time of year.

The dragon spied a loaded bunch of wildebeasts enter the central plaza and dispense premade goods to the fold all around.
Hmm, that must mean Jun of the Celadine must be around here somew-

The dragon was headshotted by a flying snowball. He flinched, not that it hurt, but it was sooo cold… He looked for the culprit, they’d pay dearly for their crime. It was Jun?
She wanted to get him cold? That’d be the last snow-and-dragon-related mistake she’d ever make. Jarkoopi, Kepesk Altiui had a new vendetta to settle.
Giant snowball? Too predictable. Teleport her clothes off? That’d make her cold but, he didn’t want to embarrass her for life in front of all of Isra and her father. Give her a little zap of electricity? She might fall from up there and hurt herself.
Before the dragon could finish his evil plot to strike back, the ceremony had begun, and he decided it wasn’t the wisest idea to have his vengeance during said speech and lighting of the log by the Empress Naoki. He could wait for when it was appropriate to strike.

While the speech was indeed welcoming but simplistic in nature, not that simplicity was bad, especially when it was this cold out. The dragon thought the great surge of fire was an even greater welcome to his cold and scaled frame. The blast of heat renewed him with a surge of energy as it swept upwards beneath him, causing him to arch his neck up to the sky as he basked in the warmth to watch the display of blue sparkling fireworks.
Sure, there were worse times to be alive, but knowing his own past, they could also get much better. In fact, he recalled that Yuletide, wasn’t much of a tradition among the dragons of past ages. At least, that’s what his ancestors told him. Perhaps now was a good time to start, with the beginning of a new era.

Although before he decided to reform his own faith, more pressing matters needed to be solved.
That damned Jun and her pranks. Time to get back, once she was no longer busy maintaining the flaming reindeer.
From a roof somewhere above Jun of the Celadine, the surge of heat had thawed a bit of snow, leaving most of it susceptible to sliding off a roof, it just needed a push. The dragon but his magic to use, using only the slightest amount of telekinesis to have the snow begin sliding off the roof. However, as all the required snow for his creation fell, he gave that slushy snow animation mid-air, looking like a snowy assassin.
The assassin of snow landed nearly silently right behind Jun. It moved to jump on to her back like it was giving a great bearhug, which would coat her with wet snow and then it would lose its animation as it turned back to snow, with the faint noise of Jarkoopi snickering where the assassin’s head used to be.