faderift | (open) one foot on the ledge

WHO: Ciri and YOU!
WHAT: Arrival, settling and other general shenanigans catchall log for the month.
WHEN: Pre-Orlais, Solace.
WHERE: Skyhold, various
NOTES: None, currently but will update if needed.

✖ a. camp

Ciri's arrival comes not long after the arrival of the first new Warden from the Western Approach and she is dressed in equally unmistakable armor. After the long ride across Orlais and the trip through the Frostbacks, she arrives thoroughly exhausted in every sense of the word. With some direction from staff within Skyhold proper, she finds the camp and gives it a once over with a tired sigh. She ultimately finds a quiet place, open and hopefully not in use. It is nice to have solid ground under her feet once again, hardly missing the sand of the Approach and the black mare clearly seems to share the feeling as she trots around the small area.

She finally has to call Kelpie back over to pull the saddle, saddlebags and reigns from her. Everything is left on the ground is a messy heap as she pulls her hood down, running a calloused hand through messy white-grey hair and pondering on where to start with it all. Where to start besides passing out horse treats but that was a given and Kelpie seems delighted by it nonetheless. She's glad at least one of them has energy because eyeing her mess of supplies, equipment and other such leaves her feeling even more exhausted. Carefully, she unlatches her sword belt and slips the weapon onto the ground which she soon follows.

Despite her exhaustion, she cannot sleep and instead takes to caring for her sword. The whetstone, a gift and one of the few things she took from Weisshaupt, is slowly run along the blade in rhythmic motions. It would almost be relaxing if not for a certain horse and her determination for attention. It's adorable, honestly and she'll happily trot over to anyone within range for some extra attention as well.

✖ b. skyhold

It's been a few days since her arrival but it has been hard to settle into a routine. At Weisshaupt, she had kept a routine. At Griffon Wing Keep, she had kept a routine. Rountine kept her hands busy, her mind busier and kept her from wandering into memories that were not wise to dwell on for long periods of time. So, although it might not be routine, she is glad to wander and take it the groups milling about that were not wearing armor like herself. After all, she has nothing bad to say about the other Wardens gathered here but she has spent far too much time in the company of just Wardens to be healthy.

She does not stay in Skyhold proper but that does not stop her from exploring the grounds. The library does not hold her interest for long but she follows the rotunda, curiously gazing at the books present before slipping down a nearby stairwell. The kitchens are found by mistake, wandering down the wrong stairwell and likely following her nose without thought. Still, Ciri does not miss the opportunity to ask for apples or carrots that would not be used for a treat for her horse.

Time is spent in the tavern, enjoying music that is not like the one she had been hearing in her head before it thankfully stopped and a needed drink. Although usually not the most talkative Wardens, she takes interest in her neighbors and asks of their origins or reasons for traveling to some keep in the mountains. Again, it is simply nice to have the noise around her. She wanders near the courtyard later, watching anyone that might be practicing with a careful eye and sometimes with noted interest. After all, t was always good to keep an eye out for things she could incorperate into her own work outs.

✖ c. battlements

It has been close to a week now. After close to a week of mostly sleeping, eating and more sleeping, she is already to get back to work. She disapproves of the soft ground underfoot at camp so she makes her way up into Skyhold. Here, there is more space but although they have all of this space it is terribly overcrowded. It is tough to find a place train with the entire event almost becoming a game as she searches. Almost every space is taken up and taken up for hours afterwards with some eager recruits waiting on the sidelines, waiting patiently for space to free-up.

It is what ultimately drives Ciri upwards, up onto the battlements and to where she only has to worry about guards passing by on their rounds. It is exactly what she is used to but she makes use of the flatter areas of the battlements' wall and falls into a familiar work-out. There is no pendulum to strike but she imagines one, slicing her blade through the air as she moves along the length of the wall in an almost dance-like and graceful manner she certainly does not give off in her everyday interactions.

If anything this is easier than the logs, blindfold and giant log threatening to throw her several stories to the ground at any moment. Yet she still twists, flips, cartwheels and jumps as if it was no different from her old training days in the woods with the Rats.

✖ d. wildcard

For literally anything else around Skyhold and nearby locations. Feel free to hit me up at kaldwin or through PM if you'd like for me to set something up.

Threaded | Flat

Ciri isn't the only one exhausted; the lengthy trip had Inessa pushing onward with nary a complaint, eager to be out of the Western Approach. That eagerness meant a lack of breaks that could have been useful, though, so her energy is decidedly flagging by the time they reach the Grey Warden encampment. It's difficult to slouch in armor so that doesn't actually happen (plus the staff on her back doesn't allow for it), but the stiffness in her movements is there. Nonetheless, she doesn't seem to want to stop until everything is set up. Ciri shouldn't have to do it all on her own just because Inessa's much smaller and with a decided lack of muscles, and she won't hear talk of otherwise.

While Ciri tends to her sword, Inessa will set up a decent campfire. Fire magic isn't among her gifts, but she's traveled enough to set one up on her own. That does mean Garahel will be lacking her attention, though, so he'll 'talk' to Kelpie or try to get Ciri to pet him and maybe give him something to eat, because can't you tell he's starving?

Standing up and stretching a little once she finally gets the flames going, Inessa glances over and shakes her head. "Let her finish, Garahel. You, too, Kelpie. Maker, you're both a terrible influence on each other...." She reaches into her pack to distract the horse with an apple before tossing jerky for the mabari to fetch.

Christine certainly didn't expect to see someone training up on the battlements like this. As she exits one of the battlement's towers, she's met with the sight of Ciri and the dangerous looking movements she's performing. It makes her want to call out to tell her to be careful, but what if that startles the woman and she goes flying off? And so while Christine says nothing, she does suck in a breath in worry.

She's a healer. Worrying is in her nature. Granted, most people who end up at the healers' tents do so because they've been foolish, and this looks rather foolish to Christine. But who would worry for fools if not for her?

"You're aware of how many people we have to feed here, right?" Avery asks, arms crossed, motioning to the rest of the busy kitchen staff with her chin. It's not a refusal exactly, but she'd been the nearest and the one whose work needed constant attention the least at the moment, so she's the one who has to deal with the request of this stranger, whether she wants to or not.

And obviously that inconvenience means giving her a bit of a hard time, at the very least.

Part of Asher's regular routine involves coming up from the valley camp to train in Skyhold since there's a proper space for it rather than the crowded sprawl of tents, especially his own pitch with his whole mercenary company all clustered together in a little ring, decorated with kaddis. His old mabari hound is with him as ever, a mass of scars with one eye so white it's clearly sightless and another ear mostly missing, greying at the muzzle.

Yet for all that, he charges at his master when commanded, a tall man with his hair shaved at the sides but braided back at his scalp, running through a series of drills; the wrist, the ankle, the throat, behind and flank, so on and so forth.

And because he's a good lad, the best lad, aren't you old boy, on a particular charge the warrior catches the hound and heaves him up, turning around to meet her eye, man and dog both staring. The dog at least barks, but mabari have slightly more manners than part-Fereldan, part-Avvar mercenaries.

The sun is just starting to set when Blackwall works his way over to one of the tents he'd seen a new Warden claim. He does at least wait to come by and introduce himself until the day after her arrival, hoping by then she's had a decent chance to settle in. As one of the most senior Wardens it meant it was his job to be a welcoming comittee of sorts. These first meetings were always nerve wracking though.

He clears his throat loudly outside of her tent and pauses a moment.

"Warden Ciri?"

A

C

B

b;

a