faderift | A Maker's Renaissance [open]

WHO: Nari and all you glorious crafty types out there
WHAT: Construction work at Skyhold! (slash catch-all for Nari)
WHEN: Justinian/Solace and heading into August
WHERE: The main keep/undercroft
NOTES: Hey y'all I missed you, let's build some things!

It had been an odd few months. Even though Sina had gotten better, Nahariel's spirit had settled tired into the walls, keeping inside them as if something terrible might happen if she left. So she haunted the keep, became as much of a fixture in the undercroft as the workbenches she toiled away on. There was always work to be done. Bows to carve both long and short, splintered shields to be repaired or crafted anew, hafts and hilts to shape, the wood worked lovingly until it was like silk to the touch. Night would find her the same way, quietly whittling the scraps from the day into feathers, leaves, halla, a candle flickering beside her until even the light of the mountains dimmed.

And then she would rest and begin again.

It was on one of the walks to and from the tent she shared with her clansister that the bareness of the Skyhold banisters finally struck her--followed quickly by an idea. For the first time in months, she exited the hall with purpose beyond rest.

--

Nari wants to really spruce up the hall!

Any characters with known crafting skills will be approached by a small-framed brown elf looking for collaborators to help carve the balustrades with techniques and imagery from their culture...and to get some new banners up (for those who can sew), some ornamental cultural weapons from smiths, and pretty much any other ideas that anyone might have.

Any secret crafters are welcome to notice the flurry of activity and out themselves spectacularly... and anyone who wants to learn a skill or craft is welcome to express interest.

Some women just want to watch the world build. :)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Though Cade isn't any sort of specific crafter or artisan, he has been set about the task of hauling things and holding them still and lifting and essentially doing all the work that makes the work of the actual builders possible. He can often be seen with mud up to his knees and callouses on his hands, his eyes downcast and his body hunched as though all he wants in the whole world is simply to disappear from view.

On one particular occasion, he's resting against a pile of bricks on a water break when he notices movement. His first inclination is to flinch away from the sight of a Dalish, but she hardly seems concerned with him, instead doing... something... to the railing. Cade watches her with uncertain curiosity-- the part of him that never shuts off naturally suspects some manner of foul play. But... he's not about to raise any alarm, not with how his last encounters with Dalish have gone.

Something was taking a knife to the first baluster--testing. For old wood, it had held up well; better than some of the stone, in fact. Whether or not it would take carving well or need to be replaced? Well. That was the question.

Speaking of the stone...one of the workers had been staring a hole in her back for a few minutes. She'd snuck a look under the pretense of tossing her hair from her eyes and found it to be that young hollow-eyed Templar who'd come to grief with Beleth some months ago. He looked a bit suspicious of her, but nervous. The kind of energy that couldn't decide if it were predator or prey. He reminded her of the little wounded kit she'd found a few years back. It had been angry, spit, hissed. Its claws certainly weren't anything to laugh about, but even so.

Right. Let him see. Perhaps it'll be his idea to talk.

Nahariel showed her work without looking, as she might show a wild thing. Shifted her position so he could see her hands, the blade, curls of wood that fell, the parchment across her knees with her designs, all under the cover of a small comfortable stretch.

Being who he was, Cade didn't have any ideas involving talking. But he continued to watch, periodically sipping from his waterskin, finding a strange satisfaction in watching the wood carve away. Even if he and the elf weren't directly interacting, there was, perhaps, a moment happening.

Well enough, she thought. A quiet one, then.

Nari tamped down her curiosity. She had the distinct feeling that if she said something to him, he'd turn tail and leave as soon as answer her. Honestly, had it not been for Knight Commander Sauveterre's trail-rescue, and the time they'd spent together on the ride to Skyhold, she'd probably have the same wary reaction to him.

The thought that people could be as wary of the Dalish as the Dalish were of them made her huff an amused breath through her nose.

Maybe everyone's scared, she mused.

As the minutes went by, and the leafy boughs and stylized halla of the Dalish baluster began to form beneath her hands, Nahariel let herself think less of her watcher, relaxed into the rhythm of the work.

The balusters would take weeks, after all. If he were interested, he'd come back. Maybe she'd greet him then. Ask for an opinion on the Templar design.

As usual, without knowing, she began to whistle quietly.

There wasn't a lot of music in Cade's life of late, and as the woman began to whistle, he realized this. It provoked a sudden feeling of relief, a drink of cool water when he hadn't even realized he was thirsty. It was no liturgical choir, but still a balm to his soul.
He lowered his head to listen, closing his eyes.

It would continue, while she worked, the rhythmic scraping of her knives, chisels, rasps, forming a backbone to the sound. Nahariel didn't know when she'd developed the habit--and even now she wasn't always aware of it--but old melodies twirling from between her pursed lips always seemed to make her lines more graceful. After her years of practice, it didn't seem to bother those she worked with either, so she saw no harm in it.

She snuck a look at the watching fellow. He seemed to be a bit more relaxed, eyes closed, head moving near-imperceptibly side to side along with the tune.

The chapel was close to the garden--she'd learned the songs in bits and pieces over the months. Perhaps...

On a strange impulse, Nari let the Dalish tune she'd been whistling segue into a slightly embellished version of 'The Dawn Will Come'--her favourite of them.

He almost doesn't notice it, too lost in thinking about... well, now he can't remember, because he knows that tune. Cade lifts his head to watch the elf more closely, his expression curious but wary. As always, he'll believe he's being mocked before he'll believe someone is being kind to him. But he's never even met her before. ...and she's so good at it, it would be a waste.

A Maker's Renaissance [open]

probably early Solace

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