faderift | OPEN LOG: Establishing a Base in Kirkwall

OPEN LOG: Establishing a Base in Kirkwall

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"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.

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.

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?"

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.

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.

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.

"Precisely what I was thinking." Inessa nods as she leads them away from that particular room, towards the kitchen area she had seen earlier. (Perhaps there is a closer one, but she's not familiar enough with the Gallows to know that.) Her other work can wait; mitigating the problems caused by restless or malevolent spirits must be addressed or this clean-up will take much longer. "This won't end until the Veil is repaired properly, but we'll have bought some time until a concentrated effort can be made."

She sighs, patting Garahel and making a mental note to give him more treats later since he was such a good dog just now. "The Veil was thin in Kinloch Hold as well, but not to this extent, not even accounting for the past. This...will be a challenge."

Inessa is right, but Christine doesn't envy the poor rifters who will have to open a rift and deal with the demons that come through while they try to close it properly. If she can do something in the meantime to help, she will, despite the affect this place has on her mind and body. Because it isn't just thoughts of what have happened here or the spirits that have been causing problems. Sometimes she feels short of breath, or gets a pounding headache. The way she feels about the Gallows is affecting her mentally, and that in turn is affecting her physically too.

"I know in many ways I was blessed to have been in a Circle that was... not as bad as some others, but at the same time, being here and thinking of what they suffered..." She stops speaking for a moment, unsure if she's making any sense. Her head is still jumbled. "I hate it here, and yet we must be here. We must face these challenges. I wish it was not so." Truthfully, she's been considering a cut and run, the same as she thought of doing when Fiona indentured them to Alexius. She knows she'll be welcome at Honey Badger Hold, and it's her plan for when the Inquisition succeeds in defeating Corypheus anyway. She would just be leaving a bit early. But then she thinks of her research, her friends, her... Church, and she knows she can't leave yet.

"Garahel, take point? Just in case." She'd rather not be surprised by more spirit activity on the way to a break from it. The mabari huffs and does as requested, leading them and providing a muscular shield from whatever lies ahead. But he seems fairly relaxed for now, so Inessa will take that as a good sign. When he's growling again, then she'll know they're in for trouble.

"...I know what you mean. I thrived in the Circle, but the Gallows are the antithesis of everything that I had enjoyed about it. It should be a sanctuary, a place of learning, not one of horror. Such circumstances create a residue which I doubt can be completely scoured away...but we must try, for those arriving later." The apprentices and those more strongly connected with the Fade, those more vulnerable, will need every defense they can get. "If you haven't done so already, rest at the docks instead? We can't avoid the Gallows entirely, but resting in a place less haunted is a start."

The Circles should have been what Inessa says. But the problem has always been that it was run by the Chantry and their Templars, and not mages themselves. It could never truly be a sanctuary as long as those in control weren't mages.

"Yes. We have a duty to them; to make the transition easier on them." She may not teach the apprentices herself -- and never has, as she was never an Enchanter -- but she cares and worries for them in this place. A city with so many blood mages can only partially blame the climate of the Circle for it. The rest must be blamed on the thin Veil and the demons who say such tempting words.

"I do stay on the docks, but I will find little rest here, I am afraid to say." She certainly doesn't look her best right now from lack of sleep. The only saving grace is that Faith is with her, though even the spirit is out of sorts with this place and the amount of spirits jockeying for attention. She's a bit overwhelmed with it all, but eventually she will find her place and will be a great help to Christine in keeping the demons at bay in her dreams.

Finding the kitchen, Christine enters and scans the place for what she needs, her brow furrowing. Skyhold's kitchens had felt so warm and welcoming. She thought all kitchens would feel that way. The one at home had too, for the short time she was there. But in the Gallows, the kitchen feels like everywhere else: cold and imposing.

"There is a kettle. I wonder if there is still some water inside."

Upon entering, Inessa likewise automatically compares their surroundings to Skyhold's, noting the sharp absence of the details which made the kitchens so comfortable and inviting. This is something that will have to be remedied if the Gallows are to be made liveable, but at the moment there are still far higher priorities. As Garahel sniffs around, she paces over to the kettle, peering inside.

"We have enough. I'll get a fire going, if you retrieve the cups?" They're most likely tucked away in the cabinet above and Christine is nearly a foot taller than herself. It's an easy exchange of duties. "...and not that tea is the solution for everything, but when I has having difficulty sleeping back at Skyhold, one of the herbalists there made me a tea to assist with dreamless sleep. I don't know how well it will take effect in Kirkwall, but it seems worth an attempt."

Not quite as rattled, Inessa hasn't gotten to the point of considering it for herself again...but if matters escalate rather than abate, it could happen.

Christine nods quietly and looks for them in the likely places, finding them on opening the third cabinet door.

"Perhaps that is something I could try," she says, though her voice is a bit skeptical of it, if only because Kirkwall is so much worse than Skyhold. "But at least we have the resources for such things. The people who live here might not, or have other methods that help them." And she doubts the citizens of Kirkwall want to share their better sleep techniques with this encroaching force.

The skepticism is noted, though that doesn't stop Inessa from considering the notion of leaving some where Christine is resting her head these days. Whether she uses it or not is her decision, but at least it will be available. She nods grimly while sparking the fire into being, resting the kettle over it.

"We can share what resources we have, once we're better situated. I expect that will be a likely condition for remaining here regardless, so that we're more benefit than burden to the local government. If there are other methods, I'll inquire as to them when I get the chance. It would be so much easier if we had access to the market areas." She frowns a bit, wondering when that confinement will be lifted. Kirkwall is far from ideal, but limiting them to just the docks and the Gallows hardly helps with the mood. As Garahel noses into the pantry, Inessa rushes over.

"Garahel, no. I'll get you a treat, but you're not having the run of the pantry! Such a glutton." The mabari whines in protest; he hadn't depleted anything! ...mostly because he had been stopped in time, but still.

At some point, she'll let go of her pride and use the tea that's left for her. She'll probably write a nice thank you note too. Eventually things will have to get better here, right? She doesn't want to imagine herself a year down the line, living here in misery and addicted to tea.

Bringing the cups over to a well scrubbed wooden table, she sets each down and looks up in time to see Garahel's head inside the pantry door. It gets a soft laugh out of her, so that's something at least. She had to leave Ponce behind at Skyhold, because it's not like the little dog would be of any use here, but she misses him and can picture him doing the same when let loose in a kitchen. Precisely why he's not allowed in Skyhold's kitchen.

"Is he used to your fellow Wardens spoiling him?" She lifts the lids off a few bits of crockery on the table, looking for the sugar. "Speaking of, why have the Wardens decided to make camp here too? Are you paying the Inquisition back for our help in the Western Approach?"

"He's used to nearly everyone spoiling him; Wardens, Fereldans...now that we're no longer bordering Ferelden, that might change. But it might not, Kirkwall is a place that demands distractions." Blocking Garahel from entering the pantry unless he knocks her over (he doesn't), Inessa fetches him some dried jerky. Satisfied, he plops down on the floor to wolf it down. Side-stepping him, she brushes off her robes.

"That's one reason, yes. I won't speak for all involved, but I personally don't like leaving debts unpaid. Besides, we still have a common cause. If Corypheus gains what he seeks, that will surely taint the land as much as any Blight." And then a wry smile forms. "High ideals aside, we don't have a lot of options. The situation in the Anderfels is not friendly to any of our Wardens and Orlais...well, you are aware." No, she wasn't part of the blood sacrifice and demon-summoning crowd, nor were her fellow Inquisition Wardens, but the distinction could be lost on many.

To that, Christine merely makes a humming sound in response. If Yngvi is to be believed, the people of Kirkwall hate Fereldans because of all the refugees who rushed in during the Blight, but then again, the dwarf can be rather overdramatic. She's sure there are some left in Kirkwall that might spoil an exceptional war dog.

"Might I suggest a holiday in Antiva?" she asks, trying to lighten the mood. She knows she wouldn't be a happy Warden right now if her choices were Kirkwall or... Kirkwall. Of course, her current choices are Kirkwall or leaving the Inquisition, so her situation is only a smidge better. Christine really doesn't want to leave at all. She wants to see this through until the end.

"Or we could finish cleaning this place up, for all the good it will do. Removing the red lyrium and closing the Veil properly will no doubt do some good, but I cannot say how much. This is still the last place in Thedas I would wish to be." There is only a brief pause before she remembers other places and adds, "Beyond Tevinter or the Qunari lands, of course." Better to be a free mage than an indetured one or a slave with her mouth sewn shut.

As Inessa listens, she glances to the kettle, more than ready to snatch it the moment it whistles. She nods grimly to Christine's assessment, not finding fault with it at all. "Agreed. At least we are here at this point in time and not earlier, but some stains will never wash away, spiritual and otherwise. Kirkwall's history is too long and too bloody to allow for that. Even so, I'll take some satisfaction in repairing what we can and leaving this place slightly better than when we found it. Antiva sounds a little tempting, though. I've never been that far northeast."

Her expression is mildly curious, maybe a little wistful...less for the sake of exploration and more to savor a spot that isn't as touched by Corypheus' forces.

"There is talk of melting down the statues and recasting them as something else," Christine says with a scoff attached at the end. "As if any other symbol in the harbor will erase what was done here. I say 'why bother?' Use the metal for literally anything else besides putting up a couple of gaudy statues again."

She pulls out a stool and takes a seat at the table, eyes darting around and imagining what a spirit might try to do to them in this room. She notes a knife block and decides to keep eyes on it in case the knives start to lift out of their slits.

"I have never been outside of Orlais or Fereldan. And the farthest east I have been is Crestwood." Her nose wrinkles. "Or is the Fallow Mire farther east than Crestwood? I do not know." She doesn't pay that much attention to the Ferelden side of the map. "I have never been this far north either."

Nodding in weary agreement, Inessa reaches for the kettle when it begins to whistle, lifting it away from the fire so she can pour. "The shape of the statues will change little; it's the fact that they loom over us which adds to the feelings of despair. Best to be rid of them entirely and enjoy some open space. If they took the shape of griffons or mabari, I would still feel the same."

Granted, those would be better than slaves but still. The atmosphere of the Gallows is oppressive enough without adding giant statues to it. Besides, no one needs flashbacks to that fight against Meredith, when they came to 'life'.

"At least it will be warmer here than in the Frostbacks, and easier to attain supplies. I always felt a little pity for those responsible for hauling it up the path to Skyhold. But I worry for the griffons; this is far more populated than a fortress in the middle of nowhere, and I'm unsure how well they will adjust." At least they're not here yet, there's time to figure things out, but she's eager to keep them content if at all possible.

Not only that, but she doubts the people of Kirkwall want symbols of the Wardens or of Ferelden welcoming visitors in by sea. The point of statues is that they represent something. They stand as silent symbols. Picking any symbol to put a positive spin on this location will just thrust one group into the spotlight whether they want it or not. A mabari? Fereldans. A lion? Orlais. A sunburst? The Chantry, which most won't find offensive, but does remind people of the Tranquils' brand. Best not to have it at the site of so many mages who were made Tranquil.

"Yes, I can say the one good thing is the warmth up north. Thankfully not desert temperatures, but mild enough." She brings her cup closer once it's filled to start adding sugar. "A city of stone is not a good place for any of the Inquisition's menagerie. I recently purchased a horse, and I was looking forward to riding him in the valley. Here he will be stuck in a stable unless I can leave on a mission."

Inessa doesn't normally take tea with sugar or cream, preferring it plain. However, she breaks with tradition for once, adding in a small spoonful once Christine is finished with it. "There is the Wounded Coast...though I'm hold it's not exactly a place one should visit alone. A ride of either sort will definitely take more planning than before."

Stirring her tea, she takes a small sip after a moment, already feeling herself unwind a little bit. "I wanted to see you, actually. You're still working on red lyrium research, aren't you? Given our surroundings, I'm suspecting that is where I ought to turn my focus, unless I'm needed elsewhere. If you want an extra pair of hands, I'm willing to assist."

"Oh, no no!" she protests, even going so far as to wave a hand. "I would never take him to the Wounded Coast unless we were in a party of at least, oh... ten people. Entirely too dangerous." She's heard stories being passed around by people on the journey here, and the number of bandits and gangs has her convinced that it's not a place to go on her own for any reason.

"Indeed, I am still researching, and I would welcome the help, thank you." Christine dips her head in thanks, stirring in her sugar as well. "Samson's armor provided us with a great breakthrough. I am sure there are mysteries to uncover here that can help us even more."

Relieved that Christine is one to take precautions regarding the coast, Inessa nods and leans back against the counter. Her acceptance prompts a smile, grateful not just for the distraction needed while adjusting to Kirkwall, but for the chance to hopefully make a difference in some respect. "I certainly hope so. The more I see of red lyrium, the more I feel driven to help eradicate it. The fact that there is so much of it here means ample opportunity for study...with all due precautions, of course."

Her mind improves with each sip, and with glances to Garahel who, moments later, is perfectly relaxed and stretched out on the floor listening to them. "What can you tell me about the armor? I know it contained red lyrium, but not how it was possible to wear it and...well, survive."

"Ah, as to that," Christine says, eagerly moving to the topic that has had her attention for so long, "My hypothesis is that Samson's physical appearance -- that is, in not turning monstrous -- is due to his overindulgence of regular lyrium first. Word is, he was quite the addict and even after he was thrown from the Templar Order, he did everything he could to get his hands on it. I believe that base made his transition to red lyrium smoother." She pauses to sip her tea before continuing.

"That said, the armor is remarkably well made. It is not surprising, since it was made by a Tranquil. The attention to detail can only come from such a person."

As she listens, Inessa sips at her tea and reaches over to rub Garahel with a foot. He seems content for even the slightest bit of attention, panting and wiggling to make sure she reaches wherever he wants. "Ah, a Tranquil. That would explain much. I've seen their craftsmanship, but...they operate purely on logic, do they not? What logic is there in creating armor from such a toxic substance? Even with Samson's smoother transition, that doesn't quite add up."

OPEN LOG: Establishing a Base in Kirkwall

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