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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"Hm?" He's seen her around--and her fox. Milady never knows how to react to a fox that's a pet or a tool rather than something to hunt. Weird small dog? "Yes, it certainly does. There's going to be no end to it even after we've cleared everything out and set up properly," he adds with a sigh, motioning to the pages under her arm.

"Those are for me?" What a bloody shame. "I'll not be tied to a desk like Lady Josephine, I swear it; if the world doesn't end first, paperwork might be the death of us all yet."

Now that his time as Lord of Fennecs has apparently come to a rude and abrupt end, Lux sniffs at Milady but keeps a respectful distance. He's in shock or mourning absent his tiny subjects who would huddle around his magnificent pelt in wonder and longing.

"We might have desks and comfortable seats then, I find myself missing parts of my studies in the library for that part alone. I'd re-read the most tedious chapters if it meant sitting down." Of course there's always the chance that if she sits down for longer than five minutes she might fall asleep, something she's done even when she's been cooking in the kitchens, unable to keep herself on her aching feet any longer.

Managing a tired laugh around a soft 'siento' she offers them out to him. "You are the only Seeker present, or so I was informed, only a Seeker's signature will do for this. Will that be your epitaph? Slain by the deadliest of all foes when he least expected it? It might be mine when the shipping manifests start to arrive." Araceli's small, they might bury her.

He frowns a little, shaking his head more at the situation and himself than at her as he takes the pages. The trouble with being Cassandra's left hand in a place where Cassandra no longer is is that things that were her main responsibility are now more rested with him. They'll have to sort out a proper chain of command once more people have crossed the sea, when everything is more livable. For now, duty calls.

"One can only hope the manifests get lost along the way." No, just a jest; he needs things orderly and up to date, and that includes knowing what shipments there are and when and where from. (Or, that those answers exist, even if he doesn't personally know them. "I'll add these to the growing pile. I've a few more stops I'd like to make before the sun goes down yet, and then I suppose I'll have to do them by candlelight, and then do it all again in the morning."

Her candor is nice. Too many people are, at times, almost too respectful of his position. No, too afraid. Or too resentful.

"If they get lost someone has to rewrite them. Or renegotiate and then rewrite them." The latter might not be as bad as it sounds if they can get better terms out of them but if they can't then it's even worse than just having to sit down and rewrite them and the idea of it has her suppressing a shudder. She does however rub at the ever-present pulsing between her brows, a headache from the lack of real sleep that isn't going away any time soon. Everyone crammed in as they are? The sooner she and Korrin can find a place of their own she'll sleep better if not necessarily longer.

Kirkwall's mood is tricky. One false step and there's every chance it's going to come crashing down about them.

"You should come to where we all cook together, it's-- it's usually some sort of bastard child of a soup and a stew with what we have but I can promise that it isn't boiled grey mulch. I came into possession of some herbs recently." There's always time to eat food, and compared to the others things she does, that's the more relaxing part of her duties in Kirkwall so far. Things she doesn't have to think about too much. Neat simple little tasks that she can accomplish and see immediate results from instead of effort now, gains much later. "Inspecting the damage? I heard and I read as part of my studies but I don't think anything could have prepared me for seeing it. Is it as bad elsewhere? I see the Gallows, the docks and the compound."

Anything else? Araceli doesn't get the time for it or she doesn't have real reason to go there until now.

"Let's not push our luck with renegotiations, then. This whole endeavour is...iffy enough as it is."

Milady tries her luck with getting a little attention from Araceli, fox boy be damned, because if there's one thing she loves it's attention. Malcolm allows it. She's been a good dog this whole bloody trip. "I'll have to drop by. At some point I ought to get on rotation for that. It might seem beneath me by some people, but I'll have you know I'm not a bad hand in the kitchen. But bless you for getting herbs. I think what everyone could use right now is a little taste."

As for the damage, he looks back up to where the Chantry once stood. "The city is recovering. Slowly. It'll be more homey once we're done sweeping the skeletons out of closets and dungeons, finished making sure the last of the red lyrium is gone, and I suppose there's the idea of doing something about those ghastly statues. It's not our business but the city's, and it's a terrible history, but it's theirs nonetheless. Most of the rubble seems to have been cleared away, but there are still parts where what happened can't be avoided." That Anders is supposed to stay here does not sit well with him, and the mage had best tread very carefully. Too many people would have his head, and despite his amicability, Malcolm might just let them.

"One slip in the Game and it moves on without you, the risk of that happening are far more real here than in Orlais." But try telling that to everyone that's so glad to be away from Orlais and politics and bullshit, as if politics isn't everywhere whether people are aware of it or not.

Clicking her tongue, Araceli kneels and holds out a hand. Milady isn't a hulking mabari likely to knock her over if she gets too enthusiastic, the other hand giving Lux a gentle push out of the way. "Don't be jealous, everyone spoils you wherever you go and you know it," she murmurs to her fox as she looks up at Malcolm from where she's now crouched. "I missed having space to cook in without having to make all sorts of deals to get a chance in Skyhold, it's relaxing. Well, this is a little less so but it's very familiar, cooking for so many people and planning it all out. Everyone sitting down and relaxing, no? Is that something Seekers are able to enjoy together? You should thank señor Waver though, he's the one who got hold of the herbs for me."

Credit where credit is due after all, she's still trying to hold a little back of her personal spice reserve should they run very low.

"I would have liked to have seen it as it was," Araceli admits softly, as if she's unwilling to disturb whatever tentative peace the Inquisition is carving out or to rouse the ghosts that seem to follow so many everywhere they go. "People are advocating for the Gallows to be torn down but if we go too far then we look no different than another invading force, and it's not likely to endear anyone to us. If we can make that space somewhere to live and work? It's a start. If we can bolster trade and repair the damned docks as well? I will be happy. Maybe do something with the compound where the Qunari were but for a city that has such a powerful trade route by sea, the docks are in a terrible state. Rumours left Skyhold with every person who ever visited but it did have distance as an advantage." Rumours in Kirkwall will spread as fast as flux on a ship, especially if certain parties Araceli could already name can't keep cool heads and think of the bigger picture.

"I wouldn't bring up the Game in the Marches. Ferociously independent, distinctly not Orlesian or Fereldan. Although there's a plenty mix of both, especially the latter, after the Blight drove so many to seek safety in another country." There's a light frown upon his face as he considers that, with the closed distance and no longer running around doing his usual Seeking business, he's got even less of an excuse not to at least write back to his sister at the very least.

Milady, of course, is a fan of all of this, tail wagging, nuzzling into every bit of Araceli she can reach. The sight calms his stormy thoughts. "We are admittedly very solitary people at times. But when we could sup together, it was certainly peaceful. Or riotous depending on who was around and how much drink was had. Hopefully someone will remember to make Seeker Pentaghast sit for a meal when she's feeling the pressure," he jokes lightly. It's something he'd done a few times himself, to set a plate or bowl before her and coax her into leaving whatever troubles her for all of five minutes.

And what a shame to feel just slightly lessened without her presence. Aleron of course is a pillar of strength, but while he'd never shirk his duties, he's got a wife and a wedding to look forward to. Malcolm's been knee-deep also in correspondence from the rest of the family, apparently debating from what family colours should be worn (he's suggested a mix of colours all around but personally would prefer the Darton colours while Lady Hawke is in hers), down to which flowers should be most prominent (roses, it simply must be roses). He can't imagine having such opinionated sisters. One was enough for him, thank you very much. But in the meantime, it leaves him feeling quite separated from his people, his order, now more than ever. Good thing he's too busy to really let himself feel it.

"We can only hope to help this city with our presence. While we have our detractors, I'm sure many will see us set up here as a sign of safety. And we'll be bringing in our own trade as it is for our own supplies we can't get locally. It's going to be slow. But we're going to make headway."

"The Game is politics taken to, not the logical conclusion but a conclusioin. We all partake in it, even the people that hate it with a passion or deny it and wish to bury their heads in the sand. I would say it's human nature but elves, dwarves, Qunari, Tal-Vashoth and Vashoth, we all have politics stitched into us." Everyone manipulates, everyone schemes and lies and deceives, maliciously or not, there's always something that people do all the time and her parents taught her that so long ago that she didn't realise it was a lesson until she was living it. "Not to mention that the merchants come from absolutely everywhere you could possibly imagine."

At least the Antivan one is happy enough to go along with someone who speaks the same tongue, she'll take what she can get.

"What I know of the Seekers is less than what I know of the Templars, I don't think I actually heard anything about them until I met Seeker Pentaghast the first time." Not the best of meetings, it being an interrogation and all so she moves swiftly on; more than a year ago now, she's older, she's Inquisition, she knows who she is and what her role in all this is. "There's always a seat at the table, there aren't rules as such but any quarrels tend to be left at the door for it, at least from what I've seen. It makes me miss nights at the Herald's Rest. I was there almost every single night, always had someone to play cards or dice with, or to laugh with for a while when things had been...well, terrible, sometimes." Scratching Milady under the chin is a better distraction from that and from what she really misses: home, tavern noise that spills out into the streets because it's easier to miss that in Kirkwall than it ever was in Skyhold.

There are buildings here she can leap across properly for the first time aside from the jaunts to Antiva where she could do that too, she's by the water, she's running around doing the sort of work she could almost imagine Leandra putting her to but it makes it easier to look for other faces. For other parts of herself she's gotten used to missing. The letters she wrote in Skyhold came with her and somehow, even when her fingers are worked to the bone, when her eyes almost refuse to stay open?

Well she still writes in Kirkwall.

"I'm glad to hear someone else has a sense of optimism." Even if it's just for the benefit of her hearing it or him saying it aloud because she knows she's done it herself, it's better than hearing about the many things that are terrible, how awful it all is. "There's seeing what we have to do, or all the angles but sometimes I want to scream." She can't, and won't, for obvious reasons.

"I trained and spent much time in Orlais, enough to speak the tongue. I wish I didn't know as much about the Game as I do. It's true that none are immune from it, and those who refuse to play are still impacted by it. Still," he says with a mildly impetuous sniff, "I prefer to leave it to the Orlesians who invented their version specifically." Careful, you're letting your Fereldan show.

It's been long enough since Rifters had begun to arrive with...few incidents--he doesn't have the awful suspicion that they might, in fact, be demons. Just confused people from other lands and other times who are occasionally very helpful or trouble. Araceli has been, thankfully, the former. "Seekers are not so unlike Templars, though you'll hardly ever hear either side admit it. There's plenty of bad blood and wounded pride between us. In the broadest of strokes, we find the Templars to be rash and power-hungry, and the Templars find us prideful showoffs there to one-up them. We are, in many ways, there to do or finish the jobs that Templars were unable to, but naturally it's more complicated than that."

She was there. He's got no reason not to say it. "We're both involved in such events as Annulments. Bringing in apostates and dangerous maleficars. And we also bring Templars to justice when it's called for. Seekers have a reputation for being the dour-faced special forces of the Divine sent in to clean up especially terrible messes." A shrug. "I cannot deny the reputation being fully earned. But now that the Seekers are scattered to the winds, it's more of a title than a position."

He won't, of course, go into the details, the differences involving lyrium consumption, or the ability to burn the lyrium within a user's body. The differences are enough to cause a rift between the Orders. And enough to sever a number of family ties.

The talk of optimism brings a wry curl to his lips. If Charles could only have been around to hear someone say that to him... "The work at Skyhold took what feels like an age to make properly lived in, and that was a forgotten and abandoned fortress atop a mountain pass few would have ever been foolish enough to traverse. The work in Kirkwall is going to be difficult, of course, but in comparison we've our work cut out for us."

"There is an even more elaborate version where I come from in another country where they all wear masks all the time and everyone must have a 'twin' that they share a public name with, to know their true name - it's a preoccupation, it can even become bloody in trying to obtain it." Needless to say that the greatest assassins come from that country though it's the only place where a demon figures so greatly in their stories unlike Araceli's tales of the sea and the moon and all their many wonders so there's that.

As far as you know. Just kidding she's good. Parkouring around with a lute and a fox, delving elbow deep into politics far more than more of the natives care to? Absolutely nothing to worry about with her she's happy to be helpful and needed here. "Both groups answered to the Chantry prior to the fall of the Circles and the dissolution of the Order, that is how I have heard it told. But there is always something else going on within itself, after all, even the mages fought amongst themselves in the end when it came down to the voting." Araceli is still angry about that or more about how those who could use their voices didn't and how those who are held up as examples never claimed a side but still meddle as though they do. Have some damned conviction and stick with it. "I imagine that with the loss of the Lord Seeker and the death of the Divine it has become far more complicated still, and will remain that way for some time to come. I do not envy either of your orders what lies ahead there yet all lives are touched by it."

Cast a stone over the water and how far do the ripples spread, what do they upset?

"There are some things that reputation can help to accomplish, just the shadow of a name that can sway a great many things." Araceli says it carefully because Rivain isn't something that she'll ever forget; no matter what arguments she might hear from either side, she lived with those people, had her heart in her throat when they were frightened and grieving and angry. She can't step back so easily from that, when their beliefs were ground under someone's heel. It isn't for Araceli to say things she might wish to. It wasn't her war at the start. She wasn't here. She can't be so free as she might be around people she knows better. "What is that verse...blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow?"

(Araceli isn't that good at the Chant but she knows that verse if only from how often she's heard it around Skyhold, always something heavy about it when it's uttered.)

"There were holes in the roof in Skyhold, believe me, I was up there more than anyone else, I knew where they all were. The goods will be fresher and there won't be the damages and charges from having to haul them up the mountain, the news comes quicker, we might not all have to stay crammed in the same space living on top of each other. Can you imagine - everyone. In buildings. How long did people have to stay outside the main hold?" Too long. The answer is always too long.

He understands her concern, even if she doesn't show it. The wry look remains, if a few shades darker than before. "There's a reason I'm the one being given some of these forms to sign despite not technically being in charge of anything at all." Only so far being the left hand of Cassandra will go. Meant something in Skyhold, less so here. Here he's just another one of them until they're all sorted--just...more, being a Seeker. Just as the Templars are more than a common man, to their own, and yet? Same boat. Quite literally.

"Benedictions. Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written." He lets it hang in the air, a sort of reverence. "I don't expect you to understand the religion and the Chant, but that you've picked up on any of it is more than I could ask for. The Chantry," he continues with a tight pull of his face, not quite a grimace but very, very close, "still does not, as an institution, take to us kindly. We must work on it if we stand any chance of making progress. If they could just agree on a new Divine, that would go a long way in uniting itself so that we, in turn, can unite with the Chantry. We've a long way to go as far as Thedas is concerned. But still...progress."

"You say technically now, do any of us know what our places will be when anything at all settles?" Araceli's been wondering over it herself, how much this is going to change, if this is going to be an actual chance to do something. To see change done. To get more work done than just studying and outposts and going to the next party to talk to more nobles.

Store your blessings in your holster, she thinks, her father's voice in her ear still with her and it's comforting to know she hasn't forgotten it.

"The Chant is a part of Thedas, it's something held dear to so many, woven deep within Thedas itself. There are such things where I am from." If Araceli hadn't shared such a story, she likely wouldn't have been pointed in the direction of Rivain and so they wouldn't have gone to help the people they helped. That's the power in the stories of where people came from and how they came to be. "Orlais being on the road to recovery could help somewhat, no? The Grand Cathedral is there. A new Divine could give us another obstacle to face when there are already so many before us if she does not agree with what we must do. The Inquisition was heretical when I fell through a rift, she might think the same."

"Much is yet to be determined." About their positions, and the future, the Divine, the Chantry. He has his questions and his doubts, but he's sure that they need a Divine.

Just...one that's on their side, let a new one overthrow Justinia's orders.

"Many minds need yet be changed. I'm sure there are many in power yet who see us as heretics and a threat to stability of the region, despite the fact that there's already a threat to stability in their towns. If we can bend enough ears to sympathy..." A shrug. Maybe they can get enough sway to not be overthrown by a new Divine. Maybe even have a say in who it is.

"People in the towns care about still having a roof over their head. Having enough food on the table. Parts of where I lived before it was a choice between the rent or paying for your food, I would imagine that there are places here where the choice is just as stark. People know a false promise. They want better for their children than they ever had or the chance for more. That there won't be a war or soldiers or mages and templars rampaging through the countryside, that things can be secured." She's thinking about how people from the place the war so long ago at home was lost still come to Castileos for just the hope of more, of better, she sighs softly. "Clearing out the demons whenever there are rifts could do a great deal, seeing that we are all there, that we are willing whenever there are red templars or Venatori or whatever else? That should help them to remember who did what when their rulers were busy keeping their thrones instead of of helping them."

Orlais she's looking at you and judging all of you, yes that includes you Briala along with the whole Chantry.

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OPEN LOG: Establishing a Base in Kirkwall

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