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

a1

[justice_is_blond]

"Of course." Anders shifts Purrelden to his shoulder so he can take the list, which he blinks at. The penmanship is excellent, actually. She gets a confused look as he tries to figure out why she'd call it bad.

"It's... entirely legible," he says after that look and a pause. "Is there, did you not want to do tasks for him?" She'd said m'lord, after all.

[poleaxe]

She gives him a flat look, the kind that says, nice try, smartass. "Y'know, some people say it's rude to call good folks lazy before you even know their names."

And, you know, the girl who wrote the list might have excellent handwriting, for all Ioane cares. But half of being a good liar is sticking with it. She lays her finger down on the fourth item on the list. "What's this one, since you're such a genius?"

[justice_is_blond]

He raises an eyebrow. "I'd initially thought maybe he wasn't a good Lord, that he was cruel and you were looking for a way out. But if you're feeling guilty..."

Anders lets the sentence trail off. "And that? Two bolts of silk, midnight blue."

[poleaxe]

"Aww, taking pity on the help? How noble'a you," Ioane drawls, rolling her eyes with good-natured humor. His intentions were probably honest, but like hell she's gonna take charity without putting up a fight.

She looks back down at the list, her nose scrunching up in confusion. "What in the Void would they want with silk?"

[justice_is_blond]

Anders rolls his eyes. "Maybe it's for blindfolds," he drawls, "to help give his servants excuses when they wander around with lists they don't feel like reading. Maybe it's for curtains, or robes, or sheets, or maybe someone else wants it and he's trying to get in their good graces. I've no clue. A curious, less-lazy worker might ask before heading out."

[poleaxe]

Ioane is all for defending one's honor against insult, and the Maker knows she's been in enough fights over that very thing. But calling her lazy doesn't rankle her-- she's got plenty to be insecure about, but she knows she's not lazy. So she just snorts and looks back down at the list. "If I was trying to get outta work, I'd just loose the damn list."

She looks up at the other guy with a canny expression. "How do I know you're not lying about what it says?"

[justice_is_blond]

He gives her the most befuddled look, gesturing at the list, before he stops and suddenly he has an idea about what might be going on.

"...Someone who could read would simply read it," he says quietly. There isn't mocking in his voice. He hadn't been able to read before he'd been taken to the Circle, and he wouldn't have learned more than basics in his village. You didn't need it, just numbers, for raising cows. "And then they'd know I wasn't lying."

[poleaxe]

The lie is told, though, and Ioane will defend it before sense or tact. She scoffs at him. "You sure have a high opinion of yourself. You couldn't possibly be lying, it's gotta be me, huh?"

Overlooking the fact that she is, indeed, lying.

But for all the nitpicking and the arguing, she doesn't, actually, hold it against him. It's not his fault he walked into her house of cards. And she really does have to get her chores done. "What's this one?" She points to another item on the list. "Mistress said it was important."

[justice_is_blond]

What on Thedas?

"What? No. I'm sorry, but I don't appreciate being called a liar when I've been trying to help you. I didn't start by calling you lazy, you assumed as much and you've been on the offense ever since. If you want help, you'll explain what's going on, or at least stop treating me like I'm some sort of scumbag for stopping to help."

[poleaxe]

Ioane just kind of stares for a second, almost uncomprihending. Maferath himself, this is why she didn't usually talk to people above her. They were all mewling kittens when their feelings were concerned.

"Someone's a bit sensitive," she mutters, looking back at the list. "I'm very sorry for hurting your feelings." It's a route phrase she rattles off with no real feeling behind her words.

[justice_is_blond]

There's no apology behind the words. They feel empty. He considers calling her on it, but she's... odd, and he can't say it would be at all productive.

"If I tell you, are you going to question me again? Because there's no point in me reading it for you if you're not going to believe me. You'd be wasting both of our time."

[poleaxe]

Oh, so this one's a clever one. Either that, or she hit his pride. Regardless, she makes a mental note. Go softly with this one, if you see him again. He's a regular kitten in arguments. (It couldn't possibly be that Ioane's too rough by half. No, of course not.)

"I promise you, solemn-like, on my mother's grave." Alright, so her mother isn't dead, but she ought to be. "One Ferelden to another." She heard that accent, right out.

[justice_is_blond]

His expression may suggest he's constipated. On one hand, it's easiest if he simply takes the Fereldan comment and moves onward. On the other... he's not Fereldan and couldn't be paid enough to call himself it.

"One pound of flour," Anders says slowly. Here's the moment, and he balances there before deciding that she'd be upset if she found out he'd mislead her anyway. "I'm not Fereldan. I'm from the Anderfels."

[poleaxe]

"Oh. Damn sorry; I never heard an Anders accent before. Didn't know it sounded proper Fereldan," she says while wandering toward the scullery tents. She can tell which is which, because one has a cut-out of a chef's hat hanging over it. "You can call me a doglord, if it makes you feel better. Seems to brighten everybody's day around this damn place."

She still can't be offended. Far too proud of her nation.

[justice_is_blond]

"I learned Trade from Fereldans," he says, voice quiet, as he walks alongside her. There are more items on her list, after all. "It's what happens when you're a mage and taken away from your homeland and the tongue you know because you're capable of things that others aren't."

There's a staff on his back and he's in robes. He's fairly certain that won't be a surprise to her.

"But I've no need to call you that. There are some Fereldans I like." One enough that he put a ring on, even.

[poleaxe]

Ioane nods along, listening to his story. She knows some mages have reason to be bitter over their state, enough to start a war over it, even. She doesn't begrudge them that, even though she can't understand it. But it's not her thing to understand, she's not the mage, after all.

"You work with the Fereldan Circle, any?" There's a new edge of curiosity to her voice. "Might've known my brother. We're a might bit younger than you, though." Might'

ve not. But the fact is, he's a mage, which rises him in her esteem quite handily. She'd suspected, of course-- robes and staff'll do that-- but she hadn't wanted to assume. What would a mage want with a common maid, anyway?

[justice_is_blond]

"I was at Kinloch Hold for some time, yes." There's a new interest in his eyes when he looks at her - non-mages who still think of mages as family members earn some respect from him. "But I escaped well over a decade ago, so whether I knew him or not depends on when he arrived. What's his name?"

She's odd. But she didn't disown her brother, which is more than his father did, so he'll soften his focus on the oddness.

[poleaxe]

Odd calls to odd, then. She wants to ask why he tried to escape-- was it that bad? It's not like Bede could send her letters. She'd always hoped it'd be better than at home, but then, well... she sets the thought aside. Nothing could be as bad as at home. Even if there were demons.

"Bede. He looked just like me-- twins-- but he was prettier." That was always the joke, anyway.

[justice_is_blond]

"Bede." He thinks it over as he repeats the name, adding that to her face and how old she appears. There's something... Anders squints and tilts his head a little to the side.

"Smart, tried to think his way out of situations, flir--" Anders cuts himself off. "On second thought, ignore the last part. That's probably not something a sibling wants to answer." And frankly, as someone who was constantly flirty in the Circle, it could have been all him.

[poleaxe]

Ioane laughs, loud and deep. "You did know him!" That was Bede, right down to it. Ioane would fight her way out of trouble, and Bede would wink and pout. Maker, but she misses him.

"If I'd known you knew him, I'd've never given you such a hard time." Not strictly true, but whatever. "With all the mages in the Inquisition, I was hoping- but- well, must be fate."

She's babbling, a little, but the grin explains why. It's such a nice feeling, to find some little part of her brother that hasn't been completely wiped away. She'll keep an eye on this one, she decides. Make sure he gets good in the Inquisition, if he isn't already.

[justice_is_blond]

"So you're saying that in the future, I should lead with 'you look familiar, did you have a twin that got shoved in a tower?' I'll try that." His smile is faint, a little tentative, but it's there. Less faint is the teasing in his voice.

"Most people would be upset at the implication of there being unpaid for sins in their family to produce mages, but I'm certain that the one or two glad people I find will outweigh those multiple dozens."

There's one thing he's not quite touching on just yet, or maybe more than one, but the main one is that she's using past tense about her brother. Anders is near-certain Bede made it through Uldred's uprising, but beyond that? He can't say.

[poleaxe]

"Wasn't glad to see the back of him, if that's what you mean," but that's a subject suggesting some vulnerability, and quickly shelved for it. Ioane snorts, a think snicker in the back of her throat. "And I'll be the first to say mages ain't made that way. If they were, wouldn't only be one in the family."

The subject of magery, to Ioane, has always been blessedly simple. They were terribly frightening until her brother turned out to be one, and then, well, what could they be but human? A lucky thing it was Bede, and not one of her other brothers. If they'd been mages, she'd spit on magic same as all else.

[justice_is_blond]

He doesn't push. Only a few minutes ago they were both ill at ease with each other and it would be all too easy to fall back into that, and he's liking her now that she's not being cagey and accusative.

"I wish more from the Anderfels felt that way. I should find it hard to blame them, they've been flooded with that message from the Chantry and every other angle their whole lives, but..." Anders shrugs. There are some grudges he holds, and the one he holds against his father is at the top of that list. "At least there are ones like you. Family members who don't suddenly fail to see that mages are people."

The more non-mages that can see that, the better. They'll need these people, badly, when a new Divine is chosen. No matter who it winds up being, he can't see them being willing to ignore how easy gaining power from caging the mages would be. But that's a heavy thought and overly heavy conversation for just meeting someone.

"So did you want to explain what's going on now?"

[poleaxe]

Ioane wants to protest-- she hardly does anything. And what did her feelings matter, when Bede was gone, and then dead? And even if he was around, it's not like she ever did anything for anybody. What good does it do, pissing into the sea?

But then he asks a question that's a lot less vulnerable, a lot less painful, and she's happy to take it. Of course, the answer was a vulnerability minutes ago, but now? Anders knew Bede, which means there isn't a hope in hell of keeping that secret back. And even if there was, she wouldn't want to. He knew Bede; honesty keeps a little sliver of him alive.

"Oh, flames," she says with a laugh. "'Course I can't read. Really had to spinning there, huh." She has the good manners to look slightly-- slightly-- embarrassed.

[justice_is_blond]

He chuckles, but it's not a mean chuckle. It's simply nice to have had a guess as to what was going on.

"I could teach you. I'm actually trying to lay the groundwork for a school that teaches anyone and everyone reading, writing, geography, and basic medical care alongside basic magic. I want to merge them so that more people are used to seeing magic, and knowing mages as people. It's the only way freedom lasts."

Which is probably more than she wants to know about his plans and hopes, but the offer is at least there.