It was always worse when the heat was higher on a Fall day. Between might provide a few moments' cool respite, and the air might be cooler higher in the sky but that didn't compensate for the amount of heavy Fall gear which needs must be piled on whilst still on the ground. And by mid-morning that day it was already miserably hot and humid, the air thick with water and unpleasant.
It was worse by lunch, the sky turning an unappetising mustard colour. By then though those who had lived in the South for any amount of time were starting to murmur. It didn't take too many turns to recognise the feel of a storm in the air -- and of course, a storm meant no Fall fighting that day at all.
A few spots of rain an hour before Fall brought false hope, stopping almost as soon as they started. The dark clouds were massing across the skies certainly, in fact it was starting to look more like late evening than mid-afternoon, but that didn't mean the rain would come in time for this Fall.
And then, thirty minutes before Fall, just as Wingleaders were starting to line up their riders for inspection it came. First the lightning, arcing across the sky, sharp and vivid against the dark clouds and followed almost immediately by a loud growl of thunder that made the ground under their feet vibrate.
A few riders - mostly the younger ones - risked stern looks from their Wingleaders by cheering at that point.
And came the the rain - no slow starting scattered droplets now but veritable sheets of rain, as though someone had emptied an enormous bucket from on high. Leather Fall gear provided some protection but any rider who had hoped to leave their jacket off a while longer was very quickly soaked.
It was only for the Wingleaders to confirm officially what everyone already knew. There would be no Fall fighting today; the rain would kill any Thread before it got close to the ground. Unexpectedly, the riders might have an afternoon free.
(And only those who knew how quickly an Arolos rainy season could turn might predict that in time the rain too might cause as many problems as it resolved).
Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.