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

[poleaxe]

Ioane snorts, amused despite herself. The bluntness of the statement-- not looking to invade everyone, ha, there's a joke in there she would have told a year back-- appeals to Ioane's own sense of honor and brazenness and lack of subtlety.

"Sure it helps. I'm not much in the mood to be invaded." It's said with the kind of oblivious ease that comes from, well, never having dealt with this kind of thing before. "And now you work for the Inquisition?"

[gatheringstorm]

"Yep. Some of my company were killed when the temple blew up, so I stuck around for them." And then it became about other things as well, but she's not going to burden Ioane with all the details. "That and standing by and letting some powerful asshole destroy everything would be bad for business, you know." Whenever someone expresses surprise that a 'qunari' would join up, Korrin feels obligated to remind them that, hey, she lives in this world too. She'd rather not see it go to shit.

[poleaxe]

She smiles at that. A similar feeling beats in her chest-- the desire to help, to fix things, no matter what it takes, in her own way. The world is still the world. Sometimes, you've gotta earn living in it.

Ioane frequently feels strange, like some oddity or interloper in a world that wasn't made for her. She doesn't fit in with what's expected of someone from her class, her sex, her family, her background. It draws her to similar oddities almost invariably. It's no surprise, then, that when she finally talks to one of the oxmen, she ends up liking them.

"You're in the barracks, then?" She grins, wondering if she can sneak some heath cakes out to Korrin's rooms. "With the other soldiers?"

[gatheringstorm]

"Eh, sort of? I'm more off to the side in one of the shared rooms with Araceli and her partner-in-crime, Lux. If you see a black fox whining pitifully at you as though he's starving, don't fall for it. He isn't. Fat little bugger gets more than enough, and I should know, I'm responsible for a lot of it." Korrin smiles fondly for all that her balds words could be taken as irritation. Lux can be a handful, but she likes him just as he is...even when his cold nose nudges against her skin.

[poleaxe]

Well that completely gets Ioane off the subject of hearth cakes. Your loss, Korrin. "A... fox? She has a trained fox? What is she, a mage?"

You can't just train foxes, or everybody'd be doing it... right? It occurs to Ioane that she doesn't actually know anything about foxes. This is what comes of being a city girl to the bone.

[gatheringstorm]

She shakes her head, smirking. "Nah, I'm the mage. Not that he's mine or that I can train foxes, anyway. He's always been hers, as much as a fox can belong to anyone." The little shit still runs around solo and has his own adventures, so it's a stretch to say he's as domesticated as a mabari. "Though I borrow him when I want to pretend he's my stole. He loves perking up and making people jump when they realize he's still alive."

[poleaxe]

"You're a mage?" Ioane's eyes get a little wider. She's never talked this long to a mage before-- Bede doesn't count, they didn't talk after his magic... happened. She smacks her temple. "I- not that it's surprising. The Inquisition needs mages, I mean..."

[gatheringstorm]

"That they do." Korrin flashes a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, just because I don't wear Circle robes doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing. Horned folk educate their kids just as well." At least in the best of scenarios, but the pitfalls of Tal-Vashoth/Vashoth magic education isn't something that Ioane needs dumped into her lap.

[poleaxe]

Ioane isn't quite sure of that, but at the same time, who is she to argue with an oxman? She shrugs, a little awkward, and gets back to her list. "Well," she says, "wherever you're at, I'll try to sneak you some hearth cakes the next time they make any."

It's not hard to remember people's likes and dislikes. Ioane knows she's not the best at her job, but the best way to stick around, then, is to keep the people around her happy. Selfishness and generosity can end up in the same pot, if you stir long enough.

[gatheringstorm]

A surprised smile forms, as Korrin usually expects more time for people to just get used to her presence, let alone sneak her things. If it's for the reason of having a horned friend as a bodyguard, well, she wouldn't be the first and Korrin doesn't really mind. Favor for a favor, right? That's how the world works. "That's awesome of you, thanks. I'll never say no to more of those, especially here. Kirkwall's going to take a lot of getting used to, but things like that help." That and a lot of booze. "Have you been treated alright here? Has anyone been giving you shit when they shouldn't?"

[poleaxe]

That catches Ioane off guard. Why would she care? Maybe it's some oxman thing. It certainly isn't a mage thing.

She brushes it off on instinct. Can't look weak. Can't ever look weak. "I been through worse than getting a bed and regular meals," she says. "Thanks, though."

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin nods, unable to help her nosiness and concern when it comes to servants and their treatment. It may be technically none of her business, but that doesn't stop her from butting in anyway. "Just checking, I know the move has been rough on a lot of people, but that's no excuse for treat servants like shit. We're not Orlais."

And then she wrinkles her nose at the thought. "Maker, I hope those Orlesian dignitaries hate it here enough that they 'forget' to visit more often."

[poleaxe]

Ioane is too loudly Fereldan to keep from laughing at that. It's a small little snort, kind as it comes from her. "Orlesians can't do shit to me. I may not be tough as an ox, but I'm no slouch."

She appreciates the worry, though. She'll remember it for a long time.

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin smirks a little and nods. "I believe you. And be careful about the 'ox' thing; I've stopped giving a shit as long as it's not said in that snooty Orlesian way, but others like me might not feel the same. I won't speak for all Vashoth or Tal-Vashoth, but I'd be surprised if no one else is at least a little on edge from being here. It'll take a while for Kirkwall to get used to us and vice versa."

[poleaxe]

"Oh." She blinks for a bit, staring at Korrin, but when she doesn't move to hit her, Ioane's shoulders relax. Okay. She can live with that.

"Sorry," she says, "like I said, we ain't got your like where I'm from. And I'm good enough at making a damn fool of myself when I know what I'm talking about."

Like, what's a 'vashoth'? What's a 'tal-vashoth'? She doesn't ask. Korrin isn't here to give pointers. The fact that she said Ioane was wrong rather than showing her is a goddamn miracle.

[gatheringstorm]

Acknowledgement satisfies Korrin well enough; she can tell when it's meant to be a slur, after all. "Yeah, I get it. There aren't a lot of us this far south, let alone in Ferelden. 'Qunari' is fine in a general sense; some won't like that word either, but if they want to be called something else, they'll tell you."

That reminds her, she'd better have a talk with Kas. The teenaged Vashoth can be incredibly touchy about being called a qunari, and she knows it's more likely to happen here than in Skyhold. Better remind him before he goes off on someone, like Ioane.