OPEN LOG: Establishing a Base in Kirkwall

[faderifting]

WHO: Many People
WHAT: Cleaning up Kirkwall
WHEN: Cloudreach 1-21
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: This log post is for characters who go early to Kirkwall to assist in preparing it for the rest of those assigned there. We strongly encourage IC discussion of things left to character discretion—someone should definitely do a crystal post to discuss what to do with the personal belongings left behind in the Gallows or what new form the statues should take!

Kirkwall once lived on the edge of the Tevinter Imperium and was home to nearly a million slaves. Stolen from elven lands or shipped from across the sea, all slaves fed the Imperium's unquenchable thirst for expansion. They worked in massive quarries and sweltering foundries that produced stone and steel for the Empire.

The city's complicated past is not easy to forget, history having earmarked many corners of the stone city. A ship approaching the harbor spots the city's namesake: an imposing black wall. It is visible for miles, and carved into the cliff side are a pantheon of vile guardians representing the Old Gods. Over the years, the Chantry has effaced many of these profane sentinels, but it will take many more years to erase them all.

Also carved into the cliff is a channel that permits ships into the city's interior. Flanking the channel are two massive bronze statues—the Twins of Kirkwall. The statues have a practical use. Kirkwall sits next to the narrowest point of the Waking Sea, and a massive chain net can be erected between the statues and the lighthouse, closing off the only narrow navigable lane. This stranglehold on sea traffic is jealously guarded by the ever-changing rulers of the city as the net trolls taxes, tolls, and extortions in from the sea.

—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi

---

Establishing a presence in Kirkwall is a delicate matter. First, there's Provisional Viscount Bran Cavin—a man so used to batting back friendly offers of entirely harmless occupation of the battered city-state that his first three responses to the Inquisition's leadership appeared to be slightly personalized form letters. Proving that the Inquisition is here to work and not to conquer will be a process. The first step in that process is the second reason the move is delicate: the only building the Provisional Viscount is willing to part with is the Gallows, left quarantined and unoccupied since Knight-Commander Meredith Stannard's famous crystallization into red lyrium in the courtyard. The Gallows have since overgrown with red lyrium. If anyone is going to live and work there, there's a lot of work to do.

↠ Cloudreach 1-3: The Journey There
↠ Cloudreach 3-4: Arrival
↠ Cloudreach 4-14: Haunted
↠ Cloudreach 14-21: Spring Cleaning

Comments

Christine Delacroix

[aceso]

When Seeker Pentaghast made her announcement that some among their number would be moving to Kirkwall, Christine's heart had plummeted. There was simply no way that the head of red lyrium research wouldn't be required to go, and she did her best to stay calm and practical about the move. But seeing the Gallows and knowing what had happened there set her stomach turning, and now a few days into her stay in Kirkwall, she feels even worse about this situation.

{ haunted }
Each day she instructs her fellow mages on what's required to cleanse the walls and floors of the Gallows. It's the culmination of a year's research into red lyrium and its effects, and in light of the news of the dark future, she wants to ensure that this vile stuff is completely removed and barred from regrowing. At first she keeps herself busy so she doesn't have to face where she is and its history, but history, it seems, wants her to acknowledge it. It's when she's in one of the former enchanter's rooms placing a rune on the wall that the door slams shut behind her and the lock clicks into place from the outside. Such a thing would be bad enough on its own, but this is a woman raised in a Circle, who saw it as a prison and has been ruminating over the poor mages that dwelt here too. Were they locked into their rooms at night like they were little prison cells? Christine runs to the door and shakes the handle, but it doesn't open. She bangs her fist on the door before stepping back and raising her staff to throw any forceful spell she can at the door, willing to shatter it to escape. The first few hits do nothing and she begins to panic. Once she escaped the Circle, she decided to never go back again, and yet here she is, trapped; being punished for what she is.

"Let me out! Please!" she shouts, tears springing to her eyes. "Please, please, please!"

{ fighting statues }
Christine feels she can do more in holding off the statues than stripping away the last vestiges of red lyrium. Those with pickaxes and hammers can make faster work of it than she can with her staff, but what she can do is keep these gruesome enemies occupied. What spells do the most damage against bronze statues? Well, she's about to find out. A shrill wail pierces the air and she winces before sending down a lightning bolt into one of the statues and charging her spirit blade at the same time. A few more spells and she'll launch forward to slash at the statue's legs.

"Augh! That sound is so terrible!" Perhaps they can fill their ears with cotton-- no. There's no time to stop for such frivolities. They will just have to endure it.

Haunted

[circleprodigy]

As with Christine, Inessa has found her greatest source of comfort in keeping herself as busy as possible. The dark history -and present- of the Gallows is not anything she wants to dwell on for long, save with a removed perspective. It's bad enough that Garahel's on edge, the mabari staying protectively close and growling objects and doors that aren't supposed to move on their own.

When the door slams shut, the pair are near enough to hear it. Promptly ignoring her own cleanup efforts, Inessa's pace quickens when she hears the shouting. "Christine? What--" Garahel immediately takes a run at the door, the huge muscular dog attempting to knock it down all by himself before his mistress can stop him.

[aceso]

The force against the door startles Christine back a few steps, but then her addled brain realizes it's Garahel and Inessa and she breathes a sigh of relief, putting her staff on her back.

"These spirits locked me in!" she calls out, voice revealing her agitation and desperation to escape. While every Circle mage's experience is different, she's sure Inessa can understand better than most what it feels like to be in a place like this and have doors lock behind you. Christine usually stays calm in situations, so this is a clear indicator that not all is well right now.

[circleprodigy]

"Stand back! He's making another go of it--" Garahel barks angrily at the door and paces away before making another attempt at being a mabari-shaped battering ram, causing the door to rattle. Inessa grips her staff, ready to follow up with a Stonefist if the next attempt doesn't do the trick. Talking can wait until the source of the problem is dealt with.

[aceso]

Oh, right. Christine needs to make sure she's not in range of the door if it, in fact, comes straight off its hinges . She moves aside, though the enchanter's room isn't truly that large, and lifts an arm up to her face for good measure.

"I am clear!" When Garahel hits the door and it rattles, Christine knows its about to lose in the face of mabari persistence. If Ponce wasn't so adorable now that he's better behaved, Christine might lament the fact that he's not a larger dog that can protect her. Might. She hasn't fallen in love with dogs overnight, but there are those special few who warm her heart, and right now, Garahel is up near the top.

[circleprodigy]

Inessa's lips form a thin line, well-understanding Garahel's vendetta against the door so she nods, giving him permission for another big push. His sizable bulk thuds into the door, breaking the hinges off and sending the door to the ground with a loud thud. Panting, the mabari glances around and then goes to lick at Christine's hand. See, she's safe now.

Following him inside, Inessa coughs as that commotion stirred up some dust, trying to wave it away. Still, that's preferable to someone being trapped inside. "That's it, we need to have the doors bolted open for the time being. Are...you alright?"

[aceso]

Christine coughs at the cloud of dust too, but she goes further than allowing a hand lick -- getting down on her knees and hugging the mabari tight.

"You saved me! Such a good boy!" She's visibly shaken from the ordeal, but she looks up at Inessa from her spot on the floor and draws in a slow, calming breath.

"I am now. Thank you. It-- I felt very trapped, and I am afraid I lost my composure." Standing up, she steps around the fallen door to get out before the spirits figure out how to stick a door back on its hinges.

[circleprodigy]

Aw, hugs. Inessa smiles warmly as Garahel nuzzles Christine, tail wagging excitedly. He didn't do it for the attention, of course, but it's a very nice bonus. Mabari are affection-sponges like that.

Glancing around the area as Christine steps past the doorway, Inessa ushers Garahel out ahead of her before doing the same. Glancing at the shattered door, she sighs and shakes her head. "I don't blame you in the slightest, Christine. These circumstances are...far from ideal, from any point of view. Enduring it has taken a toll on everyone, that much I have seen. Why don't we take a break, get some tea, and speak to the craftsmen about measures to prevent a repeat scenario?" Because if there's one thing Inessa doesn't want, it's for the spirits to try the same trick on her.

[aceso]

Christine is grateful for Inessa's cool head in this situation, because the former needs a little time to calm down. The suggestion for tea is met with a nod, before she glances over her shoulder at the room they've just left.

"I think that is a wonderful idea. Surely there must be some sort of metal hinge that can be attached to the walls and the doors to hold them all open until our work is done." If only there was a rune for repeling spirits the way there now is for keeping red lyrium away.

[inagutterson]

Growing up in Kirkwall means you grow up knowing that you live in a place that's extra. Yngvi's used to shrugging off plenty that would have some of the rest of the Boneflayers staring at him and Gunnar on long marches to wherever they were going, over pints in a tavern or round a campfire. Clomping along looking for some of the crew he'd been 'asked' (translation: told to round up and put to work thanks to that good old dwarven lyrium resistance) to get sorted, he doesn't immediately react to a shout.

Look, if you did that in Kirkwall you'd strain something. Give yourself a nervous twitch. So he listens for a while and taps his fingers along the wall as some of his nugs snuffle around because nugs literally don't give a shit, just watch, they'll crawl all over that red lyrium without batting their beady black soulless eyes.

The shouts don't stop and he knows that voice enough to make his way there even if he still hangs back a little way away to conduct some serious pocket inventory. "Serah? Some funny business going on in there?" He calls out in his most serious Kirkwall tones.

[aceso]

Christine considers herself a calm, collected individual. She has to be so she can deal with fresh injuries on the spot while the patient is panicking, in pain, or both. But she just can't stay calm right now. Not while alone, trapped behind a door in a place where the Veil is thin and mages were treated worst than cattle. She lets out a sob, staff raised to fire a spell, but when she hears a voice, she rushes to the door.

"Yngvi? Please, can you unlock the door from that side? I am trapped!" Her voice is far from the way it normally sounds around him. She's scared, as if the ghost of Meredith will rise up behind her at any moment.

[inagutterson]

"How d'you get yourself trapped?" Yngvi's giving her the benefit of the doubt that she did it herself because he doesn't think people would go trapping her. She's too nice. And he wasn't about. He was busy shouting at dwarves in a way that others wouldn't understand was actually nuanced discussion but looked like a rammy. Muttering under his breath he starts searching his pockets, turfing a nug out in the process to land with a disgruntled squeak. "You only have yourself to blame Rump Roast, told you that you're making your own way in the world now."

Is that what parenting is like? No, no it's not, the ratio is off there are more parents to children in the Carta.

Rifling through his pockets, Yngvi stops to peer at the door in consideration given where they are. Dwarven resistance is a thing that he doesn't think about much because people start talking about dwarves to him and wow he doesn't care but he'll ask. "Is the door doing magic stuff before I go touching it up?"

[aceso]

In response to that, Christine lashes out and kicks the door. She has boots on, so she can do that without breaking a toe. But she's frustrated at the spirits for doing this to her and it can't be hidden away right now. This is a side of herself that she never wanted to show. She puts others above herself because they need someone to take care of them, and she's the best one to do it. But now she's stuck here at the mercy of spirits.

"Spirits haunt this place! They closed the door and locked it." And Christine is someone who understands spirits better now. These ones have been influenced by all the terrible things that happened here, so she can only partially blame them. The rest falls on the Templars that were here.

It takes effort not to just yell at him to get on with it. Her hands ball up into fists and she sucks in a breath. "No, I do not think. They merely locked it." Because of course the doors have locks on the outside so the Templars could lock in the mages. Of course.

[inagutterson]

"Can you not act like my great aunt Bertha after six gins?" Yngvi hollers at the door and thus at Christine because this is going to go easier if he's not distracted in the quest for his lockpicks. She has seen the state of his fingers previously, she must know or have the impression that he is a dwarf in possession of numerous sharp and pointy things in the pockets region that aren't nug teeth thinking that fingers are a thing to be nibbled on.

A second or two of jingling and cursing later and he has the lockpicks. "Right, good, something at least but it still feels weirder than it did before. Not that you'd know. You weren't here." Now they're all here or going to be. He's here. But he's not going to lose bits of himself as he approaches the lock and starts working away at it, slow and gentle. You can never tell here if anyone left a trap in the door just to be safe and it's Yngvi's hands and the moneymaker on the line right now.

"What were you doing that you didn't notice a spirit coming up behind you?" He asks, all the better to keep her distracted because she does sound pretty upset for something Yngvi would do to a person (has done to a person but not recently) and it just highlights the uselessness of all that mage 'education' if they can't get themselves out a room without a big hullabaloo.

[aceso]

Christine narrows her eyes at the door, betting he doesn't even have a great aunt Bertha. Or he only does when it's convenient to a story. She at least knows that much about him, but he's so crafty that she falls for his stories anyway.

"There is too much here," she says, crossing her arms over her chest and warily looking about the room. "The Veil is thin, red lyrium is everywhere, and the city is still recovering from the explosion." She doesn't know where Anders is now, but she's sure the Wardens will drag him along as if he's such a precious commodity instead of a mass murderer. Typical, really. That said, there are a few among the Wardens she likes well enough. She will simply never understand why they choose not to punish their own for his heinous crime. She will never understand those who choose to be friends with such a selfish man, who set his desire to be a martyr over the lives of the mages in this Circle. The thought makes her shudder. He wanted them to be lambs going to the slaughter so he could rile up mages elsewhere. With one action, he undid all the hard work Fiona and her allies had been doing to allow mages to govern themselves. And the spirits here watched those mages pay the price for Anders's idiocy. The spirits are probably mimicking the events they witnessed at that time. They see a mage in a room, so they lock her in.

"Setting down a cleansing rune," she replies, since talking means she's distracted from the thoughts in her head of what might happen next if she's left in this room. "Though it is not as if spirits have footsteps anyway."

[inagutterson]

You don't know his life!

"Everyone's an infant about lyrium until someone's browbeating a dwarf because that dwarf has to know other dwarves that'll know how to deal with lyrium. Because why would the dwarf be offended, he's just a dwarf, and why would dwarves not want to deal with the red stuff that turns you into a screaming red spike, they're just dwarves, s'all they're good for, throw them at everything we don't want to deal with, who cares." And breathe. Breathe, Yngvi, breathe. It's not like he could say it'd be different if elves had some sort of lyrium resistance but maybe they'd pause for slightly longer because humans have this whole weird thing with elves. And mages. He doesn't know. All this is mumbled into the door and isn't exactly intelligible because Yngvi's face is partly mashed up against it since he's trusting Christine on the door front. He's just salty.

Extra salty. And he wants Asher but that's not exactly news anyway.

Louder then, for Christine's benefit as he fiddles with the lock properly, he ploughs onward. "Kirkwall had lots of explosions. Lots more after that bloody upjumped doglord decided to show up here and didn't go back to where they came from after Ferelden got sorted. I know when all that happened but Kirkwall has explosions. So. You need to make your peace with that bit. And you get used to a lot of stuff like the uncle that drinks too much and says things you'd find awful at a dinner table, the sort of awful where you'd try to slide under the table to escape? 'In my day we rode the casteless like brontos through the streets' that sort of shite." Wait, that's too specific, she won't get that properly, she's an Orlesian mage would she even know a casteless properly? "Or that but about elves. Carrying them through the high quarter. In front of everyone. Including the servants. And the merchants. Loudly. Swilling port down himself. Dripping off his moustache."

Lapsing into silence for a long time because these locks have seen some fiddling in their time either from mages who made an attempt on the other side or spirits doing something or templars jamming keys in during fits of temper or spell damage or everything that went down, it's taking a bit but he makes a noise of success when the lock finally starts to give. "Yeah that's right you little shit, one of us probably made you. Anyway, thought you were all spirit-y like Aura? Spirit friend you fart out in need? You need to go file a complaint with the authorities there, I'll send on the paperwork, we've got those forms my friend."

[aceso]

Because you never tell the truth about your life, Yngvi!

On the other side, Christine moves to lean aside the wall beside the door, arms still crossed as if she has a chill. She can catch Yngvi saying the word dwarf numerous times, but the rest of what he's saying is muttered so fast she takes it she isn't meant to hear and he is talking to himself. Which doesn't surprise her in the least. Surely he talks to himself when alone, because his mouth never seems to stop when he's out amongst people.

She smiles faintly at his story, and whether it's true or not, she can commiserate with him there. "My uncle is awful enough. I am not allowed in his house." Because she is a dreaded mage and no one in his town can know he's related to such a terrifying thing.

When it sounds like he's making progress, her body shifts towards the door a bit more, her heart pounding in excitement at her imminent release. "Do you really wish to know? She is overwhelmed with all the spirits here, and all they have witnessed. It is like... trying to walk through thick mud without getting sucked further down. She needs time to sort through it all, and properly closing the Veil here will help, I think. Some of those spirits may move on, or the weaker ones will fade away. And then things will be clearer for her."

[el_tybs]

Rubbing some sweat off his brow, Sam turns around to see the progress of the others. Everything seems to be going smoothly, or as smoothly as possible, up until he notices that they're missing one. "Where's Christine?" he asks one of the others who just gives him a shrug. Another woman speaks up that she had seen the other spirit healer go down the corridor, and Sam is quick to head out down it.

"Chrisitine?" He knows that being here has been especially rough on her so of course he's concerned that she's wandered off without a word. "Chris-" The words fall away when he hears pounding on a door, followed by screaming.

"Christine?!" he yells louder, now running until he's in front of the room where the noise is coming from. All he can hear is 'please' and tries for the handle- It won't budge.

[aceso]

She will not panic. She will not panic. She will not panic.

Only by the time Sam reaches the door, Christine has slid against it to the floor, a fist curled against the wood as she cries. And crying is absolutely one of the things Christine hates letting others see. She must be strong and calm at all times so people see her as a professional, not some weak-willed mage who will be a danger to everybody.

"Please let me out," she croaks, throat sore from her bout of tears.

[el_tybs]

He cannot see it, but he can hear it. Slightly, only because he's pressed his ear to the door. These rooms were made to keep a certain amount of noise out after all. Once more he calls Christine's name, still trying the handle.

When he finally hears her speak up he sighs, somewhat relieved in finding her, but still worried considering the locked door and the sound of his voice. "You're going to have to move away from the door," he informs, talking loud enough so that she could hear him easily. "I'll be back in just a moment."

He had left his tools back in the other room and quickly goes to retrieve them, returning a minute later after he's gathered them all. Coming back he pulls out a chisel and hammer and starts working on the hinges of the door. It takes a bit of time - less so if he tried blasting his way in or trying to go through stone to get to the latch - but eventually the door creaks as its support gives out, letting Sam push the door until it falls into the room.

[aceso]

She crawls off to the side, sniffling and wiping at her tear-stained face. At least this delay will give her time to collect herself once more. Staying on the floor, she pulls her knees up towards her chest and waits, the constant chiseling sound reminding her that Sam is right there and is going to rescue her. She isn't a mage of the Gallows being punished by Templars. She isn't going to die. Deep breaths, Christine.

Scrambling up to her feet as the door creaks, she's well out of the way once it crashes forward into the room. Once it does, she races through the plumes of dust that it's tossed up and out the doorway to throw her arms around Sam.

"Thank you, thank you!" she says fervently, arms wrapping tight around his neck. "It was the spirits. I cannot blame them. They saw so much fear and pain and all they can do is recreate it."

[el_tybs]

"Whoa-" he says in surprise when Christine comes running at him, hands coming up to steady her after she's gotten her arms around his neck. He knew she was upset, but he wasn't quite expecting this reaction upon opening the door. After a moment to gather his head, listening to her ramble about the spirits, Sam gives a sigh and wraps his arms around Christine to hopefully make her feel more secure.

"It's okay, Christine. You're alright, you're safe."

[aceso]

She quiets down and nods, turning her face to press her cheek to his shoulder. It's strange; in that room she felt so small and scared, like the ceiling was stretching up and up, but now she feels like herself again.

"Yes," she murmurs, a bit of embarrassment creeping in. But if she can't look weak in front of Sam, who can she? He gets to be her exception to the rule that she must always act calm and professional.

"For now." Who knows what other antics the spirits will pull? Christine draws back and straightens her shirt a little, clearing her throat and forcing a smile. "Thank you again. Those blacksmith skills come in handy in more ways than one."

[el_tybs]

Hearing the embarrassment has Sam shaking his head slightly and giving an amused huff before holding Christine a bit tighter to quietly enforce that she was safe, not just from ghosts but from judgement. This place was creepy on principle, but with the red lyrium, spirits and their own familiarity of Circles... any mage would be on end.

When he feels Christine pull away he releases her in turn, taking a step back to give her a bit more space. "Good thing I decided to bring some tools with," he says with a small smile of his own, looking down at the door - that should be able to be put back up. "We should probably stick together for a bit, seems like the spirits are getting more restless as we clear the lyrium. Unless you need to get out and get some air."

[aceso]

"Air would be good right now." Just get her outside and away from all these walls and ceilings that are closing in on her. She almost feels ashamed for acting this way. Montsimmard hadn't punish mages nearly as severely as they had been here. The Templars there had preferred mind games, and the Senior Enchanters too. Orlais excels at destroying people through words, not actions. At least she was never beaten or anything like that.

Drawing in a steadying breath, she wraps an arm around Sam's. "You will walk with me, will you not?"