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

[justice_is_blond]

They were all failures, Ser Coupe. They served a tiny minority of mages while sacrificing many, and stripping nearly all of personhood. Even the so-called nice ones had disappearances and abuses.

[His voice is leaden as he nods and heads for the staircase.]

I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

[It's not much of an answer, but it's all he can give. He knows names of some of the ones who died during their Harrowing, as well as a few who chose Tranquility. They'd all been misused and betrayed by the system that claimed to be there for protection. All the same, he's working hard to not get angry, to not start ranting. The area is volatile.

They reach the door and he takes a breath, renewing their barriers as he does so.]

Kick open the door and move to the right. I'll send a wave of fire sweeping from the middle to the left. We may have a little surprise on our side and fire will extend it.

[Everything has a moment of panic when it's on fire. Even demons.]

sloth demon for a ooc heads-up

[limier]

[ Wren tries to smother the stormcloud she can feel brewing down in her chest.

What failure is wrought in the ruins of this city? In all the bloodshed that he's bred and inspired? The Circles have done good for those within and without — he’s speaking of a wave of fire and she can already feel the rush of another, older heat.

The Circles have done good. So they have done bad, too. What in this world hasn’t? The Gallows are horror at another scale: A vivid reminder of the potential within any system to warp.

(It always has been warped. She knows. Knows that it won't be forced back into shape, will be hardened or shattered for it. But that's not a belief easily-relinquished.) ]

Very well. If there is cause, we fall back and hold the door.

[ It might buy them time to yell for reinforcements. Wren hefts the blade, breathes deep, and boots the thing in. A sharp dive aside to clear his path, but —

— Robes go up in flames over lifeless bones. Nothing shifts them, nothing shows even the slightest sign of life. Until a slight robed man edges out from the corner, where he's been sheltering behind a half-toppled column. His hands raise, empty in a gesture for peace, ]

Please stop that.

[ His voice is heavy, a lecturer's drone. His figure, recognizable vaguely as some mage within the Inquisition's ranks, no one of notable politics or personality. ]

[justice_is_blond]

I... I'm sorry.

[He's a little surprised to see the other mage here. Climbing up has been dangerous and difficult enough with a Templar along; to get here alone is impressive. But he's older. Maybe he's got more experience with fighting.

Anders doesn't put away the staff, but the flames have stopped.]

Is it clear from here? Or is this as far as you've gone?

[The lecturer gives him a slight smile, and Anders clears his throat, feeling a little embarrassed for a reason he can't put his finger on.]

I've found this to be a good place for a break. I haven't ventured further out yet.

[A break doesn't actually sound like a bad idea. They've been fighting for a time here, and Anders glances over at Wren.]

What do you think? Rest for a few moments, drink, and then move on?

[limier]

[ The day’s been catching up at her for a while, nerves frayed, and a new face — a living one — is a relief. A brief window onto something different.

It almost lets her forget where they are within the tower.

(A harrowing room. Isn't that strange? That this should be a good place for a break? The Veil must be terribly weak here — but the mages will know. She can trust them to know,)

Wren fumbles at the thought, finds it slippery. She nods in assent. Her shoulders slump with a weariness never typically expressed as she shifts to sheathe her blade. Something catches her halfway, a pause at some rough worried edge: Trust Anders? That doesn't make any sense. ]

They aren’t sending people in alone, [ Especially not mages. She puzzles at the words; they come slow, faintly concerned: ] Where’d your partner go?

He wanted to look ahead. [ Dry as bones. The lecturer looks between the two, presses his palms together as one might before a tiresome classroom. ] I don’t know what he expects to see. It would make more sense just to close this whole place off, wouldn’t it?

[justice_is_blond]

[She's asking questions, which doesn't entirely stand out since Templars are always asking questions of mages, but there's something he can't quite put his finger on about this moment.]

The Inquisition has to use it.

[Anders' words are slow.]

The Inquisition needs the space, and we have to make sure there's no red lyrium around. The red lyrium is dangerous. As are the remnants. We have to make it safe.

[He doesn't like how hard it is to come up with the points. He's tired, though. Surely it makes sense, after all the fighting? He's frowning as he moves toward a chair, not sure why he's frowning or running his hand along his staff.]

No place is completely safe in this world. You two should know that well. Is it worth all of this work and strain? All that's ever happened here is death.