— kindness is what you showed to me

[sulena]

WHO: Saoirse Ceallach + OPEN
WHAT: Saoirse decides the best way to get information on some missing elves is to go undercover as a servant, it goes as well as you expect + some daily activities
WHEN: Throughout mid-to-late August
WHERE: Kirkwall, various
NOTES: Mentions of physical and verbal abuse.

— ＧＡＬＬＯＷＳ.

Her trips to the Gallows have grown in these past weeks. She comes to work with the other in the Chantry relations group and make sure that the small chapel and libraries are kept tidy. Other times, she helps in the kitchens and carries messages while re-learning the passageways that were once all that she knew. It was darker days then... many days that forced her to keep the smaller ones closer to her in vain attempts to protect and shield them from the violence that was becoming their every day.

Today, Saoirse has traveled far up into the Gallows to the large room where their Harrowings once took place. Her Harrowing took place here too. A dimly lit room, surrounded by Templars with hidden faces and her heart threatening to burst. She had passed, of course and became a mage while this place became a distant memory that only reappeared as more mages were made Tranquil and with some never returning at all. Carefully, she traces the outline of something in the gathered dust with the blade of her staff and breathes out a tried sigh.

She will not cry, not now. There was still far too much to do.

— ＡＬＩＥＮＡＧＥ.

Kirkwall's alienage has become a second home for Saoirse these days. She comes to see the elves there almost every morning and leaves their company well after the sun has set in the evening. More often than not she is helping wherever she can lead a hand whether she is cleaning, minding children, gardening or teaching one of the various skills that she has acquired. Other times, she sits with the hahren and listens to her stories that she knows (stories that the hahren of Starkhaven did not know, or knew differently) and sips tea that smells of apples.

Today, she sits at the vhenadahl with a small handful of elven children. In her lap is a well-worn leather book, faded and barely holding together. She does not need it as she knows the Chant by heart and that includes the more... well, controversial verses:

"When the tale was finished, Andraste said to Shartan: Truly, the Maker has called you, just as He called me, to be a Light for your People..."

— ＴＨＥ ＨＡＮＧＥＤ ＭＡＮ.

In truth, Saoirse is the sort of person that stands out inside of a tavern like the Hanged Man. A small, yet bright elf woman, barefoot and constantly surrounded by music. Although she has a variety of weathered instruments with her but the lute and pan whistle are seemingly her favorite. Her songs vary between the the joyous sort of tavern melody that one might except to the more somber ones for those darker, more quiet nights. Most songs are sung in the common tongue but every so often she sings in the language of her home, one that only those that called Starkhaven's alienage home would know.

Tonight has been a quieter night though she has led a drinking song earlier, mostly she has sat near the center of the tavern and played whatever melody came to her mind. Sometimes folk would come up, requesting both familiar and unfamiliar songs, otherwise she would wander until finding a patron and offering them a raised brow.

"I hope your evening has been well," she says with a brilliant smile. "Might you have a request?"

— ＨＩＧＨＴＯＷＮ.

The Egremont family is minor nobility among those in Kirkwall, but nevertheless a good place to start. She has heard the whispers among the women of the alienage to the eldest son's behavior and Lady Egremont's vicious words and even more vicious hand. There is always a need for servants, elven ones to hide in the shadows of the lower levels while their human counterparts took care of things upstairs. It is easy enough to earn a place among the elven servants, the older woman that conducts the interview certainly does her job to sell such terrible things as a blessing for someone so unfortunate as herself.

Her day starts before the sun raises and ends far after the sun sets. She washes, cleans and runs errands under harsh pressure. The head lady in waiting uses any excuse to punish them. A hair is out of place, their is a stain on their apron or their fingers have cracked from being worked raw. She strikes them with a heavy cane on their knuckles, shins and across the face. Once she does not get the laundry in before it rains and goes to sleep nursing two broken fingers that she urges to heal with what little creation magic she knows.

Later in the week, once her bruises have faded, she is set out to retrieve a delivery from a nearby seamstress. In her hurry out of the alley from the back entrance (there was nothing good about a elf entering a hightown store through the door, let alone one clearly dressed as a servant) she fails to look carefully, almost running into someone and very quickly bowing her head.

"I am terribly sorry." She says, hoping whomever it was would not send word back to the household. She could not do her job if she was bedridden. "You were not hurt... were you?"

— ＤＯＣＫＳ.

She knows that the Egremont family is a dead end. As terrible as they are to their elven servants, they are not reasonable for the missing elves and she finds herself back at square one. A part of her wishes to end this ploy, find another way but there was much to learn within the walls of the Hightown estates. Information between servants could be worth their weight in gold and perhaps, just maybe, she could still find the lead she needed.

Yet as Saoirse nurses her bruised cheek and busted lip, she wonders if she can stand it. When she is allowed to sleep, the nights are filled with nightmares of the Gallows and the aftermath of its fall. Every strike brings back another bloody memory and prays that she could last long enough to find a thread to lead her to preventing more elves from vanishing.

— ＷＩＬＤＣＡＲＤ.

For anything not listed above! Feel free to hit me up through a PM or on plurk at kaldwin if you'd like to set something up.

Comments

Alienage

[mythalenaste]

Seeing Saoirse with the children, teaching, or going about doing chores, reminds Pel of what it was like to grow up expecting to be a Keeper. Deheune was very hands-on, and Pel was expected to be the same, filling in whatever gaps in the camp she could. If ever she sat idly, Deheune told her that somewhere, there was work to be done and she would find it. Saoirse is the same in her element. Someone, a long time ago, another city elf told Pel about the sense of community in an alienage, and it sounded so very much like a clan. Saoirse is part of this clan now. And she has elected to bring Pel to introduce to her clan. Pel's behavior doesn't just affect her now; it affects how Saoirse will be seen. She must be at her best. She must remember that she is the guest, the stranger, and not the Keeper.

She arrives with the sling tucked intricately, so that the baby can sit in it upright and facing out. Pel prefers that arrangement so that Sina can look out and see the world and learn it. Tucked in a small basket are numerous skeins of yarn, spun by her own hand--her common answer to the question of looking for work when she would otherwise be idle. She smiles at Saoirse as she approaches, but stands at the back, behind the children, listening to the lesson until it is over.

[sulena]

"And the Prophet stood beside Shartan and shouted to her host: "Behold! Our champion!" and gave to him the blade of her own mother from her own scabbard: Glandivalis."

Once upon a time when she was still in the Gallows, Saoirse never imagined a connection to the the alienage of Kirkwall. All she knew was Starkhaven, the people there and their customs. It was in the aftermath of everything that she found her connection here. Despite the danger, the elves here hid her and protected her until she was strong enough to leave this city. It was then that she recognized a piece of her was part of this alienage now too.

Perhaps then it made sense for her to spend so much time here. She felt a sense of home here, one missing from the military like Inquisiton and one harder to find in a city that still look down upon the elves. This was her home just as Starkhaven was her home. With a smile to the children, she finishes the last of the chant and closes her worn book gently.

"That is it for today, the Canticle of Silence comes next where we will learn about the seven Magisters who entered the Golden City." She says, as the children raise with some shooting curious glances to Pel and the baby. Once Saoirse the other woman, her smile brightens somehow and she raises from her seat. "Hurry now, your mothers will be home soon and you'll have chores to help with before dinner."

With a groan, the children nod and hurry along as Saoirse approaches. "As always, I am glad to see you and the little one. Thank you for coming, I hope you have both been well."

Gallows

[circleprodigy]

The Harrowing chamber isn't exactly a place Inessa had intended to visit, and yet upon recognizing where her wandering had taken her, she lingered. It's been years since seeing the inside of such a room, when she had emerged from her own Harrowing, realizing how easily her pride could have ended her life before it had truly begun. The lesson she had learned that day had never faded, echoing with her throughout the years, reminding her to keep her wits about her and remain vigilant. True tests never end.

Upon hearing that sigh, the slight elven woman steps forward quietly but not silently, pausing once she can recognize her company in the dim light. "...Saoirse?" It's a gentle prompt, not wanting to force conversation if the woman truly doesn't wish to speak. And yet, given that this place would hold more significance for her, she might want to unload.

[sulena]

Although she notes the approaching steps, Saoirse does not turn until she raises the sleeve of her robes to her eyes and wipes them clean of any sign of tears. Carefully, she glances over her shoulder and offers her fellow elven mage a smile lacking any of the usual light she carries.

"Warden Serra," she says with a slight bow of her head. "It is a pleasure to see you once again. I am sorry it had to be in a place like this."

Once more she gives the room a sweeping glance before sighing.

"I had been in Kirkwall only a week when they brought me to this room. I thought perhaps it was an execution considering how things were here, it was only when the First Enchanter came to me that I realized it was my Harrowing." She shakes her head, setting her staff down for balance. "I had been so perhaps in Starkhaven but here... here it felt like you were constantly struggling to keep your head above the water pushing down on you."

[circleprodigy]

As it seems her presence is not unwelcome, Inessa approaches and pauses by Saoirse though as always mindful of personal space. As much as she treasures it, she won't take it away from another. Listening to Saorise recount her experience, the young Warden stares downward sighs.

"I can't imagine how difficult that must have been, day to day. We never heard about the abuses here, not in our Circle; I didn't learn of them until long afterward. Life in Kinloch Hold could be strict, but...nothing compared to this. It must have taken a strong spirit to endure as long as you did." Her gaze is sympathetic and a little curious, wondering how she managed to keep her sanity when so many mages at the time had failed.

The Hanged Man

[gatheringstorm]

A regular at the Hanged Man even when she isn't working as a bouncer, Korrin has kept an eye on Saoirse since her arrival. The tavern can get rowdy at times, and she knows an elven woman can be an easy target, even one with magic. So whenever it seems that tension is in the air, Saoirse will conveniently find herself with tall, horned company lingering nearby. She doesn't even need to say anything for other patrons to get the message.

When approached, Korrin smiles and raises a glass in greeting before giving it some thought. "Hm...how about Once We Were? More mellow than my usual taste, but I'm in the mood for something mellow."

[sulena]

Although they have not spoken to one another, Saoirse has not overlooked her company whenever their is tension in the air or whenever a patron happens to have a little too much to drink. Thankfully, she has not ever experienced much in the way of racism but perhaps they know better to speak their thoughts aloud with Korrin lingering nearby.

With a returned smile, Saoirse bows gratefully at the waist. "Sometimes we need a little more mellow sounds in our life." She says, adjusting her lute and leaning carefully into a nearby table as she begins to sing.

[gatheringstorm]

As the song begins, the Vashoth woman pushes back her chair and props her feet up on the table. Since it doesn't look as though she'll be sharing it any time soon, Korrin allows herself that much until there's a pressing need to stand. She takes a sip of her ale, her free hand holding a dragon scrimshaw. It's rough, the work of an obvious newbie, but she stares at with a melancholy fondness all the same.

Hightown

[faithlikeaseed]

Hightown's not a good place for an elf not on obvious business to be alone, but that hasn't kept Myr from his stubborn explorations of it. The robes of a mage, an Inquisition insignia, and a hooded cloak to hide his ears--without view of which he might at a glance be mistaken for a short human, given his broad frame--go a long way toward keeping him safe, but none of them are a guarantee that he won't run out of luck and into trouble one of these days.

Or that trouble might run into him, as Saoirse nearly does. Instinct makes him jerk to a stop at the sound of hurried footsteps far too close to him and spares them both a collision.

"Maker's heart--!" He startles back a step, sucking in a surprised breath. "No, I'm fine, I'm--sorry myself for getting in your way. Are you all right?"

[sulena]

Her own clothes are not so different. She wears a cloak in the Egremont colors, a pin of their family crest holding it closed and pulled high over her head. It helps to hide both her bruises but most importantly, it hides her ears and keeps from wandering eyes lingering for too long.

With her heart threatening to leap from her chest, Saoirse once again bows her head and nodding in apology.

"Yes, I am perfectly fine." She says, voice tired and edging on panicked. "I must apologize again. I am in a rush to return back to my Lady but I should be more careful to watch where I am going."

[faithlikeaseed]

He'd blink if he could, taken aback both by the repeated apology and the note of near-panic behind it. Servant, he thinks, and likely another elf since she sounds near his own height--which means she's liable for mistreatment if she's not back on time.

That new piece of knowledge curdles sick in his gut and he takes another step back, hoping he's out of her way; dismay's written clear on his face, even beneath the hood and the blindfold. "Forgive me for delaying you," he says, and some mad instinct prompts him to add, "Though I'd be glad to go with you and explain my fault in it to your lady."

What are you thinking? That she's unlikely to accept. That the badge of the Inquisition might have some tenuous social power here, and he might forestall a minor injustice even if he can't do a damned thing about the greater one.

Hanged Man

[lyriumcarved]

Of course, he's here and drinking, in the usual spot. Or what's become his usual spot once again, since returning to this city. It's still not the same, without the others here, though Fenris oddly does appreciate the change of pace once in a while.

He's only half-listening at the moment, but then is surprised when she approaches him. He'd been taking care to be as unapproachable as possible, too (well... ok, not really).

"It's been well enough. As for a request... I'm not all that sure what to pick. Is there a favorite song that you particularly enjoy playing?"

[sulena]

Fenris is not an unusual sight to Saoirse these days. He is a regular, but like most she does not know him well and usually leaves the sullen looking man to his own thoughts. Perhaps because of her future undertaking, she has gathered up some courage and now stands near him with a smile.

"There are a few," she says with a smile. "It all depends on what language you would like to hear it in. The language of my alienage is a strange one, but well loved by us city elves that call Starkhaven home and many songs have been born in its wall as a result."

[lyriumcarved]

He recognizes her, as well. She's been singing here pretty often, lately, though he'd never bothered to approach her. Usually, he's kept more or less to himself. It's different, these days. But she seems friendly enough, anyway, and he's in a somewhat better mood than usual. He's managed to get his mansion back, after all, and he's been on and off going after other slavers he'd tracked down from the ones who'd been living there.

"I can't say I'm too familiar with the languages of the alienages." He tends to ignore certain aspects of elven culture, steering well clear of it for a number of reasons. Though languages in general do interest him. If only because knowing different ones has served him well many times over. "But I wouldn't mind hearing something strange, this time."

Hightown

[eolasemah]

Sina is carrying her basket of seeds, which is nearly upended when Saoirse rushes past. Being who she is, however, Sina isn't about to shout at her, and is actually quite alarmed to see that the face looking back at her is a familiar one. Her brow knits and she scans over Saoirse, trying to puzzle the situation together.

"Are you a servant?" she asks dumbly, a genuine expression of bewilderment. Isn't Saoirse part of the Inquisition? ...isn't she a healer? what

[sulena]

Despite the cloak that covers her features, she tilts the hood back just enough to show more of her features and view Sina with slight bloodshot eyes. She had not expected to find many Inquisition members here in Hightown, especially not many she knew and certainly not a fellow elf.

Carefully, she adjusts the pack in her arms and bows her head.

"'S fhada bho nach fhaca mi sibh, long time no see. We were under the leaves of the vhenadahl last... yes?" She says, smiling fondly. "You must forgive me, I am as of the moment. I am hoping to... find certain things that have proven difficult otherwise."

[eolasemah]

Sina gasps, then immediately bristles in outrage, stepping forward to gently touch Saoirse's face. She herself has been here dealing with the fallout from the Chantry forest, which will likely be an issue for a while, and demands constant attention.
"Yes," she answers seriously, "who did this?" They may or may not be about to have a tree grown up their arse where they stand.

gallows;

[arcaneadvisor]

Moving from the Gallows to Sundermount is a slow process but at least Morrigan is getting out and away even if it's in stages. A temporary stay in a former Circle that was once a prison (and was ever a prison, give it whatever name you wish but that never changes the intent behind those behind it) is more than enough in her opinion. Kieran at least had barely known it more than a few nights of rest after travel, safely tucked away with Gwenaelle or as safe as she might make him here. Better than him ever living in the shadow of a place where red lyrium and suffering called home.

Today is a day about working, returned from the Wilds as she is full of as many questions as she left with if not more. A slender volume tucked under her arm, Morrigan's getting some space from what she's been working on in her office. Behind her heavy door. (Solid oak, witchy spells, Sabine was never wrong about what was required to keep things both in and out.) Walking without a plan, without direction and this is where she finds herself, peering inside at-- well she knows the elven woman not but Morrigan is curious, always has been, so she stares for a time before announcing herself.

"I have seen only one Harrowing chamber before this one, in Kinloch Hold. More than ten years ago now though given the circumstances…'tis hard to say how alike two may be."

[sulena]

With raised brows, Saoirse turns on her heels to face the unfamiliar woman with a tilt of her head. She is not someone that the young mage, simply knows of in the sense that she knows of others that held such major roles in the Blight of a decade past.

This, of course, means she knows nothing. She knows stories and stories, she knows, tends to make mountains out of anthills when it comes to the truth of the matter.

"The Harrowing chamber in Starkhaven was very bright place. Stained glass windows of many colors that bathed the entire chamber with color and depicted fanciful moments in history... or so I heard." She says, shrugging her shoulders under heavy robes and leaning slightly into her staff. "I never saw it, you see. Not before the Circle burned down and we came to Kirkwall."

Came to Kirkwall. It sounds so nice compared to the actual events... of being marched here in some glum parade and flanked by Templars ready to behead them at a moments notice. Those nights on the road were some of the worst...

"I never much cared for this place while I lived here," she murmurs. "Though I imagine the Harrowing chamber of Kinlock Hold must have been... much more difficult. If what is said to have happened there ten years prior is all to be believed."

[arcaneadvisor]

"Is that not the way of so many things?" Morrigan doesn't hesitate but some part of her wants to when she takes the final step over the threshold, longs to recoil, and if she could blame it only on what she saw once then it would be easier. A life of freedom is a thing you never give up lightly and there's an itch beneath her skin, a pricking of sweat at her hairline. "Paint it golden, gild it, forget that there is flesh and blood, that there is a terribly messy thing beneath it all."

History goes that way. The heart of the Chantry and Orlais nestle side by side, decorative silver spoons and Morrigan walked the halls of Court long enough to know the rot beneath the brocades, the perfumes, the masks.

"Serault likely made that glass in your Starkhaven tower that remains no longer, I have spent time there, I have seen the works they are capable of. Perhaps..." She looks around, thinking about the statues removed and sold to scrap. 'Tis no bad thing to remember what came before. "I know many of the glassworkers still. Quite the journey from Starkhaven to Kirkwall with so many mages, was it not?" That there were Templars willing to make it surprises her but she knows not the circumstances, perhaps the Gallows was considered the only option, a prison, a fortress, whatever Meredith was before the madness as Morrigan heard.

A Harrowing Chamber is a Harrowing Chamber, a ridiculous test set by those who know little and less, who teach too many to fear in her mind. "Few were prepared to resist what came. Blood mages and the madness such unleash, abominations and demons afflicting the minds of Templars and the dead walking. The growths however. I remember the growths. The sound they made." Her voice is thicker at the end through the effort to swallow past the bile that rises to scorch her throat.

Gallows

[justice_is_blond]

He hates the Gallows. Weeks upon weeks of being here hasn't changed that. They've taken away some of the anxiety he has about the place, but so many of the rooms are reminders of how many he hadn't managed to save and they weigh him down.

The trek up to the Harrowing Chamber in particular is emotionally exhausting, but he hasn't been up here yet and he feels he owes it to some nebulous force of guilt that always sits in the back of his mind.

Someone else already being here isn't expected, and Anders stops in the doorway, clearing his throat after a moment. "Did you want to be here alone?" It's an offer he'd only make to a mage.

[sulena]

She takes in a deep breath of air at his voice, not in surprise but... relief? It is hard to say. Saoirse can only smell the dust though but somewhere in the back of her mind is every smell from the night of her Harrowing.

The smell of incense, oiled leather, lyrium and suddenly blood. For a moment, she stands silent and rigid before carefully glancing over her shoulder.

"No, I am fine. There is no sense in being alone here with the ghosts," she says quietly. "... It feels much different from when I was here last."

[justice_is_blond]

He nods, coming in to the room at her words.

"I believe it. You weren't hauled up here today suddenly, and it's not the middle of the night? Those seem to be fairly universal for Harrowings. Mine was... more early than it should have been, but I did pass." He gives her a small smile due to how obvious the last part is.

"Hopefully this will be altered forever too. There's been enough hurling children at a demon uninformed. If they're taught the dangers, guided in with an escort so they learn the signs, and told beforehand what they're going into, they could actually learn from the process rather than simply survive it." He tries to keep his voice calm rather than giving into the passion he feels on the topic; there's a need to keep things calm here.

DOCKS.

[dashing]

Herian is not terrible good at tact. It's an unfortunate reality that she'd try valiantly to deny, with little effect. She sights a familiar figure on the docks, jogging down the stairwell and shoving past a man who attempts to block her path with less than noble intent, sending him reeling into the water. His friend draws a knife, she kicks the side of his knee, and he buckles.

On another day it might be the focus of the story, but not today.

She approaches Saoirse, trying to assess the situation, what has happened, and gently lays a hand on her shoulder. Herian is not adapt at gentleness, but here? She can be. There is much she has failed in, over the years, and she tries to remember the times she has seen Saoirse in a similar state. She was a sunny one, and the clouds did not suit her.


"Deala-charaid," she starts, and is uncertain how to proceed. "What has happened?"

[sulena]

The touch sends a jolt through her body. Fear, worry and pain before Saoirse can gather up her wits to turn and look at her friend. She wishes for her cloak to once again hide under, hide the bruising and the exhaustion nearly seeping through her every gesture now.

"Ah... a sheòid, you are here. You must forgive me, I had no wish for you to see me this way." She says, touching her cheek again with shaky fingers. "I am doing what I can to find our kin that have gone missing. Lead after lead, I found nothing and no one willing to talk so I thought it best to travel into the belly of the beast. I thought I would perhaps find the clues I needed."

She does not want to show weakness now not when she knows what is happening in household like the one she is serving now. Most importantly, she does not want to show weakness in front of her friend but Herian is perhaps the one person she can show this side of herself.

"Yet all I have found are dead-ends, I am afraid and tired and hurt but I know I cannot stop. I must find this thread before everything unravels and we witness the death of another alienage."