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

[alankazam]

He doesn’t comment on Cullen. Doesn’t know the man, beyond fragments of a reputation. There are certain matters that Alan takes on faith: The Maker is real, Andraste shall return, the Advisors will see their jobs done.

Absence is to be expected. As much a piece of it as a candle or prayer.

(The Maker has turned His face, Andraste rests again at His side — and the Advisors are an ocean away. Their words may guide, but they cannot take the place of one’s own decisions.)

"Yes," Alan regards Christine, impassive. Dark circles pool beneath his eyes. "But why you? Why the two of us?"

Why not the armies and researchers they’ve left behind? Alan’s no coward. If you don’t rip out rot, it spreads, poisons the roots. He understands. He's willing.

But too, he understands the concept of cannon fodder. If that's what they've been set to? He'd sooner know.

[aceso]

"Why me?" she asks, and there comes a slight sag to her shoulders. Her lips thin before she says, "Because there is no one in the Inquisition who has studied red lyrium more than I have. And as a leading researcher of it, I was required to come to deal with all this." She waves a hand in the direction of the Gallows. All her hard work has led her here: to one of the last places in Thedas she would wish to be. A place of torment and death in greater numbers than one would expect from the average city.

"As for you, I cannot say, as I do not know you." They skipped introductions, didn't they? "But I assume the Inquisition sees you as being of some use, whoever you are." And as that is a nice segue... "My name is Christine. And you?"

[alankazam]

There’s the templar in the cells, he thinks, and doesn’t say. Prisoners probably don’t count, for all he doesn’t see the point in keeping them otherwise. But he nods, satisfied enough with the answer. Offers in return:

"Alan."

Or whoever you are.

Christine’s purpose seems clear, but it hasn’t escaped his attention that they’ve too sent the Wardens, the Rifters, most of their more vocal apostates. Why they’ve dragged him out of the place he knows best, the one written in his blood — well. His use is one interpretation. He's aware his liability is another.

"I teach." The thinnest shred of a smile at that, an unvoiced bitterness. "And help in the tents."

[aceso]

Prisoners only count when they have useful armor she can study, so in a way, yes, Samson counts, but he's the practical application side of red lyrium, while she's the cleansing rune-making eradication side of it. Clearly, she's better.

"Oh? What things do you teach?"

[alankazam]

"Wilderness survival,"

And there, perhaps, she can understand a touch of his confusion. Kirkwall's about as far from the Frostbacks as it gets. His hands shift into the pockets of a shabby coat that must have been nearly smart not so long ago — before the the singes, the rips, the fur, the grime.

"Dragons."

Perfect city-dwelling material.

[aceso]

"I see." Which isn't true, but it's one of those filler phrases people use when they need a moment to think. Because it truly doesn't make any sense to base a wilderness survival teacher in a city. Unless the Inquisition is planning ahead?

"Perhaps there will be missions to the forest or the mountains in the future, and your expertise will be needed for those going?" It's all she can think of off the top of her head.

[alankazam]

If he wasn't being purposefully obtuse, Alan might concede there are other reasons to send him.

But naming those wouldn't soothe an injured sense of independence. He'd given up a piece of it, to join with the Inquisition. He's done so readily enough. It's just that until now, no one's really asked him to do anything he wouldn't have anyway.

Hence this bit of wallowing.

"Perhaps," He agrees, because at least he knows he's not being forthright — and he knows that's not her problem. "Why aren't you over at the Gallows?"

There's no accusation in the tone of it. His head tips to regard her, owlish with curiousity. It seems a red lyrium expert ought to be near the red lyrium.

[aceso]

"I have been over there long enough today," she replies evenly, moving to busy herself with some little task that lies before them that will still allow her to talk with him. The Gallows are her nightmare that won't cease. The fact she will have to work there every day turns her stomach and she's already had one panic attack being inside the building that housed those ill-treated mages. Luckily, it wasn't a severe episode, but she's had enough of the place for today and feels like she can finally breathe easily again being on this side of the water.

"It is not good to stay in the presence of red lyrium for too long."

[alankazam]

"There's something wrong in it," He remarks, the slight hush to his tone the only indication he's afforded the matter much consideration. "It hurts, like the other sort doesn't —"

His hand flexes, an unconscious gesture. It's nothing he needs to tell someone familiar with the substance. Anyone within sight of the Gallows can feel how wrong it is.

But,

"— It has to hurt the city, being here, doesn't it?"

The ruins have been sitting here for years. How far away is far enough?