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

Garahel wiggles at the stomach-tickling, and Inessa smiles a little as she observes them while forming an answer.

"The Veil is quite thin here. It's...distracting." Horrifying, too. But she'd rather not give a detailed run-down of what she's heard and seen, not when Anders has enough on his shoulders. "With the shard-bearer's aid, perhaps that will change." There's a slight wariness to her tone, not daring to hope for much though it's true there's never been a concentrated effort quite like this before.

"Are you in need of assistance or a break? I have time to join in either, if you would like."

"Assistance." The answer comes a little hastily. "...sorry. I'd prefer company, if you're sure you don't mind."

It's not easy to be here, and breaks are something he's avoiding. They're invitation to too many intrusive thoughts from him, and too many glares and comments from others.

"There's plenty to pull, and we know they like each other. The Veil, it's always been thin and disorienting here, and there's..." He grimaces. He doesn't really have a right to complain about memories considering what he did, he knows it, but it weighs in on him anyway.

"History," is what he finishes with.

"If I minded, I would not have offered. There's nothing to apologize for, Anders." Inessa can well-understand the need for productivity to keep dark thoughts at bay, though her need has never been as dire as Anders' own. If weeding the garden is what's needed, then that's what she'll do. Promptly getting down to her knees, Inessa will begin on those closest to her though she'll take direction if he needs her efforts on something else.

"Behave, Garahel." He's much bigger, it's his responsibility to play nice. Which he does, either when plopping down to provide Purrelden with a mountain to climb or gently booping her tail to make her turn around.

Listening to Anders, Inessa nods grimly at his assessment. It seems accurate enough to her, and she can't accuse him of complaining when she brought it up herself, anyway. "History we cannot change, but the Veil...I hope it's a surmountable challenge. At the very least, it needs to be more stable before apprentices and those more tightly attuned to the Fade join us. I almost wish I had one of those shards, so I could directly aid." Almost. She's too cautious to appreciate that power when the long-term effects are still unknown.

He nods, glancing over as the mabari plops down and lets Purrelden circle him before plopping down against him and starting to clean herself.

"We found writings, Hawke and I and the others, about the basis of why the Veil is so thin. Or a theory about it. I'm not sure what their sources were, but the writers said that it was so weak because Tevinter wanted it weak, and sacrificed hundreds if not thousands of slaves to weaken it. And then once it became the Circle and mages died on a regular basis on these grounds, that continued the weakening." And then the Chantry's destruction hadn't helped, even though his hope had been to save lives.

"If the shards help, that will be for the good. But the damage here was deliberately started, and I've no idea how we're going to undo enough to make a significant difference. The wound is old and deep."

Of course blood magic just had to be behind it. Inessa frowns and shakes her head at mention of a mass-sacrifice, not entirely surprised but definitely unsettled. Thanks to her fellow Wardens of the south, she can picture what that might have been like all too clearly. "Such wounds are unlikely to ever truly heal; I wouldn't be so naive as to suggest that. Though it sounds as though there has never been a large, concentrated effort to counteract it in any way. I hope that makes a difference, at least enough to allow those working and residing here some peace."

For now, she's one of those in residence, though that's as much due to necessity as anything else. What happens when the bulk of the Inquisition is moved over depends entirely on how far their efforts have progressed. "Do you retain those writings? Disturbing as they are, they sound vital to understanding the situation here. If Kirkwall is to be our new base, I would learn all that I can."

"Um." Where had they gone? Anders frowns for a few moments as he works. He has gaps in his memory from Justice, which make much of his time in Kirkwall hazy. After a moment, he shakes his head.

"If they're to be found, they'll be in the Hawke family estate. I can't recall if it was Hawke or I who kept them. If it was her, and whomever has been living in that house hasn't wrecked the place, they'd be in the library there. If it was me... I don't even want to guess at what was done to my belongings in Darktown."

Inessa nods, disappointed but unsurprised. "I suppose there's no way to know for certain until they allow us greater access into the city and that won't be for some time." Annoying, that. But watching a certain wiggly mabari and his feline companion alleviates some of that disappointment. She smiles, then returns to routing out weeds as best she can, slow but thorough. There's no rush when keeping someone company who needs the distraction, anyway. "If Bethany wants the Hawke estate, I hope she has a chance at reclaiming it. The Hawke name should still be worth something here, I would think?"

He gives Inessa a half-smile. "That depends on how Bran and the various nobles are feeling. Having a Hawke publicly in the city could be prestigious... and it could also cause a lot of fear to rise. We did deal with the qunari uprising, but there was a lot of destruction even then and there were people upset we didn't handle it even better. Add that to conflicts of personality between Marian and Bran, matters we didn't handle the way he wanted, and her verdict of atonement for me, and there's going to be difficulty."

He takes a breath, frowning at some of the weeds before resuming pulling them. "We did save the city from a high dragon, a serial killer, various gangs and thugs and creatures. All of the help was capped off with a disaster."

Which is to say... probably not.

"Fair point. Still, if there's a way, I suspect Bethany will find it. She can be quite determined." And all that charm can't hurt, either. Inessa is less thinking about Bethany herself, though, than the fact that she'll likely invite her friends. The Hawke estate has to be better for Anders' frame of mind than the docks or Gallows.

"...and the clinic? If you could return to such work, not just for the Inquisition...?" Suspecting that such questions are ones Anders has already asked himself, Inessa nonetheless keeps her tone as non-intrusive as possible. If he wants to discuss it, she's willing to listen. If not, she won't press the issue.

He closes his eyes for a moment.

"If I can. I... There are so many down there who are forgotten. They don't have people helping, they never have, and I left them when trying to help my people. I think some may understand. I don't miss Darktown itself, but I miss the look of hope blossoming on someone's face who had given up. And I like the work."

Some days he still dreams about living in a cottage by a see, raising cats and being the healer for a small nearby village.

Inessa pauses in her own work to reach out, resting a small, slight hand on his shoulder. "It's a good cause, helping those without anywhere else to turn. I'm not surprised that it calls to you again. If it can come to pass, you will have more resources and assistance this time. I don't claim to any great skill outside patch jobs and the Creation spell, but I'd nonetheless offer my time when it can be spared."

Anders stills at the touch. No matter how far he gets from his year of solitary, simple physical contact still means the world to him.

"They can use any help you'll give," he says after taking the moment to let the touch simply be. "I can use it too. They've little left save their pride, and some of them have lost even that, but they deserve it with how hard they work to stay alive. Patchwork, warmth, a dog nuzzling them or a cat headbutting them, it all makes a difference. But through it all, they deserve and need respect. They need to be seen as people, because so many treat them like they're not."

That advice is met with a nod and a melancholy smile. "I know. I was quite little when my own situation was similar, but I remember enough to empathize." Her thoughts don't stray to Kinloch Hold; for all that they shared a Circle tower, her own experience was quite different. When she thinks of deprivation and a lack of respect, the Denerim alienage comes to mind. Her tone is matter-of-fact, though, not interested in pity but merely relaying the truth. It was what it was, and her life has improved markedly since then.

She smiles as Garahel heads over at mention of dog nuzzles, of course interested in seeing who wants some. "Garahel would be pleased to accompany, of course. He loves the attention and knows to be gentle when it's needed." And then he would get to see Purrelden even more than he does already, yay.

There are so many places where people are downtrodden and treated as lesser. At times, it seems like it's a key part of how people are, and it's discouraging. Why can't everyone be uplifted? Why do some groups have to be isolated and looked down on? It just doesn't make sense. Maybe the future can be better.

At least there are fuzzy distractions here, Purrelden trotting over at Garahel's heels and trying to get his tail that's a bit too far up for her.

"I'd appreciate that, though I certainly don't need dog attention right now, thank you, sir." He's all right with dogs, even fond of Lady, but Anders will never truly be a fan of them in general. "You should lick Inessa. She'd probably enjoy that."

"But of course. I could never resist him." Inessa's too Fereldan to understand why anyone wouldn't like dogs, and mabari in particular. Anders' attitude will never not be a source of confusion, but that said she respects boundaries. Gesturing for Garahel to focus on her, she accepts his nuzzling and responds with some attention before gesturing to him to lay down. He won't just yet, though, noting Purrelden's efforts and wagging that tail just to be a tease.

"Move to the side, you two. Your mischief is not to disrupt our own efforts."

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OPEN LOG: Establishing a Base in Kirkwall

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