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

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"Something like that."

It's the only preamble Diana gives before she swings her hammer, putting all of her strength into the blow. The giant crumbles at the knees, falling forward. Diana reaches behind her, lifting the young woman without warning and jumps back, keeping them both clear of the creature's path. Gently as she can, she releases the girl and pushes her a little further back as she steps forward and swings again, down this time, letting gravity help her already flagging strength to drop the hammer into the head of the stone creature. It shatters. It doesn't stop flailing, but the screaming stops at least.

Down the hall, a new scream takes up. Diana pauses and turns to the woman. "Are you hurt?"

"Ah-" And then the woman-- the warrior woman-- picks her up like she's nothing. Ioane flies through the air, and a strange thought sticks in her mind. Is this what being a mage feels like?

Is this what Bede felt?

But it's over, and Ioane is put back on the ground. Normal again.

The statues still lurch around the courtyard, attacking warriors and servants alike. Ioane doesn't understand what started this, but she knows that the woman in front of her is formidable. A warrior, a fighter. She stares into her eyes, expression hard. "I'm fine," she says, "what do you need me to do?"

Amidst the chaos, Diana's heart warms at the expression on the young woman's face. She is frail and small and unarmed, but determined and no Amazon could look unkindly on that. Diana lays a hand on her shoulder, squeezing briefly.

"Get the others away," she says, nodding to the servants trying to escape the heavy blows of the statues, "Get them safe. Clear the wounded from the field of battle and keep your head down." Pray my strength lasts long enough to be of use.

And then she flies. As much as she would like to make sure the young woman is safe, there's little time and it's impossible to ignore the screams of the statues and the cries of servant and soldier alike caught by a blow of the craggy red rock. Diana does not waste a moment of her powers; hammer swinging down to land like thunder as she joins the battle with a vicious cry. "Back to the gods that spawned you, creature!"

Later she will look for the young woman. Later when she is covered in dirt and red dust and her lasso glows hot around her arm, she will seek the girl out. For now, she fights.

When it's down to the wire like this, Ioane knows better than to argue. Ioane does her best to be fast, keep her head down, and drag people away from the fight. She's always been strong, and getting two regular meals a day has made her stronger. She carries the people she can carry, and drags the people she can't.

The fighting runs long. The monsters are huge, and their warriors were taken by surprise. Ioane prays to Andraste and the Maker, and does the best she can to help. By the end of it, she's exhausted, but not nearly as much as the people who were in the thick of the fighting.

She's been tasked with tending to the wounded, something she's not particularly good at, but she tries. She changes people's bandages and feeds people watery broth. And she keeps her eye out for the amazing woman warrior who saved her life.

Diana is tired in that strange new way that has plagued her since her arrival here, as though her strength were just out of reach. And there is the bone tired weariness of the fight. Faulty powers or no, she was not one to turn away from a battle.

It is through the sheer force of several healers that she winds up in the tent. Red hair catches her eye and she smiles immediately, warm and weary and pleased. She is filthy, covered in dust from the red stone and dirt from more than one fall, bruised and a little bloody, but not the worse for wear. She settles heavily on one of the makeshift cots, calling to the young woman when she finishes with the soldier she was tending to.

"You are well, little sister?"

Little sister? Ioane thinks it must be some mistake, and before she can ask, she recognizes the voice of who said it. She smiles back, faint as it is with tiredness. She's been told to tend to the wounded, and the warrior woman is on a cot, so she's not even breaking the rules when Ioane kneels next to her with a damp cloth and some fresh bandages.

"Better'n you," she jokes, though there's no masking her relief to find the woman alive. Ioane hands her the cloth, so she can wipe some of the dirt away from her wounds. "You were amazing out there..."

She accepts the cloth gladly, with a soft murmured thanks. Diana smiles at the girl. "As were you. You were very brave."

Open and warm approval for that. The young woman is older than Cassie was when Diana first met her. Older than Donna... Her heart aches for that, for them both and she sets it aside for now. She strips off her tattered second hand shirt and begins the messy business of wiping away the grim and blood, glancing at the young woman as she does.

"What's your name?"

The warm approval sits oddly with her; she frankly doesn't know what to do with it. This woman must be confused. She shakes it off easily. "I didn't do shit. You risked your arse. Here, lemme get you another rag..." They've got plenty of those, and the other one's quickly becoming filthy. Ioane hands her another post haste.

"Ioane. You?" She bets it's something full of fluty sounds and noble titles.

Ah, to be young and impetuous. Diana shakes off impulsive visions of teaching this girl what it means to help, to be an Amazon. It will not dull the ache she feels for her sisters, but she did miss teaching.

"You helped. You saved lives." Diana's voice is firm, straight forward as she meets Ioane's gaze steadily. "That is bravery, Ioane. As much as being in the thick of battle." She takes the offered rag with thanks. "I am Diana."

Ioane snorts. "Don't spare my feelings. I only got three left." It's said with a sarcastic shrug. Why does this woman care? Does she think Ioane's some sort of charity daughter, only here because she wants to do good works for the Chantry? Ioane's heard a little of Rifters, true, but they seem like something that wouldn't touch her. The fantastical never sets its feet in front of Ioane and her ilk. That's just not how it works.

She throws the dirty cloth into a troth where all the trash and dirty bandages are going and studies Diana. She looks... like a warrior. That's all that matters, right?

"Where'd you learn to fight like that? What house?" She's got to be from a noble house. She's too good for mercenary work (not that Ioane would know the difference on sight, not really, but she thinks she would.)

Diana laughs a little, a quiet warm sound, "Well, I would hate to endanger your three entire feelings."

She begins to stretch herself slowly as Ioane chucks the rag and studies her. The question earns Ioane a thoughtful hum. How to answer that question... For lack of a better recourse, Diana settles on the truth:

"I am an Amazon from the isle of Themyscira," she says, one hand going to the bracelet around her wrist, cool and clear and gleaming as if it'd never seen a day of battle. "My sisters taught me to fight."

"...Huh."

Well, Ioane's never heard of Themyscira, but the places and things she's never heard of could fill reams of books. They do, actually; they're called libraries.

"Well, you're damn good at it. Inquisition's lucky to have you. That's... I guess in Tevinter?"

Whether the Inquisition is lucky to have her remains to be seen, but she gives a polite nod and murmured thanks at the compliment.

"Not quite." Somewhere, in another place and time, Bruce Wayne was perhaps feeling irrationally irritated at her for sharing too much. ...Not that he wasn't already irritated with her, last they spoke... Nevermind that now. "It's farther out, hidden in the sea. It's almost impossible to find unless you're meant to find it."

Ioane's eyes widen just slightly. Diana's certainly captured her imagination successfully. It sounds like something out of a tall tale, the sort they'd whisper around the fire, late at night while it rains.

"And you came all this way for us?" She says, still smiling just faintly. "We're damn grateful to have you. Least, I am."

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OPEN LOG: Establishing a Base in Kirkwall

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