The Rimewardens

The Rimewardens patrol the storm routes with rescue cords in one hand and fear warrants in the other. They are scouts, guards, road-closers, hostage-takers, and sudden saviours where maps say no help should be possible. Their gear is plain: ice hooks, signal flags, cord coils, spare mittens, ration blocks, blue-lacquered horn plates, and knives kept warm under wool. The order is old, its circuits marked by cairns and graves from generations of patrols. People bless them when they arrive with shelter. They go quiet when the same riders close a road and decide who must be left beyond it. Their customs are severe: every warrant must be spoken before a road witness, every closed pass marked with blue cord, and every abandoned traveller entered by name if a name can still be known.