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[OPEN] A dwarf out and about
WHO: Kit and OPEN
WHAT: Kit recovering from the injury he sustained in the Deep Roads, and then exploring the Gallows a bit.
WHEN: The latter half of Solace/July.
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: This post is open to anyone who might have reason to drop by the infirmary, or interact with a slightly lost looking, ripped a f dwarf limping around the Gallows after his convalescence.
WHAT: Kit recovering from the injury he sustained in the Deep Roads, and then exploring the Gallows a bit.
WHEN: The latter half of Solace/July.
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: This post is open to anyone who might have reason to drop by the infirmary, or interact with a slightly lost looking, ripped a f dwarf limping around the Gallows after his convalescence.
Kirkwall has changed since Kit was last in it.
He'd landed in the City of Chains the first time 'round the same summer the Arishok's warship ran aground and the Qunari themselves were camped out in their compound by the docks like dread sentinels. The dwarven mercenary band he'd been a part of at the time had been serving as a guard retinue for a Merchants' Guild caravan, and business had brought them into the city to settle old debts, and generate some new ones, all in the name of profit. The city had looked like a right shithole then, with the poor, the dead, and the dying right under the noses of the nobility, sitting pretty in their decadent Hightown estates. Chantry Templars and priestesses could be found at nearly every level of the city--save Darktown, of course, where they never set foot except in pursuit of apostates.
It still looked like a shithole--but at least the Gallows had a forest right in the middle of it now.
I. THE INFIRMARY
The cot he's been laid up in for the past couple of days is clean and comfortable; the blanket is a bit scratchy, and obviously cut for someone about a foot and a half taller than your average dwarf, but it gets the job done and keeps the chill out. A competent physicker has seen to his wounded leg, though after many failed attempts at cajoling Kit into accepting it, she finally accepts that he's just not going to tolerate a mage healer taking a look at the wound.
It means his leg still aches terribly days after his misadventure into the Deep Roads... but all things considered, he's definitely had worse.
It's a cool, early morning when he takes the crutch that has been left at his bedside and limps his way just outside the infirmary to roll himself a cigarette and have a smoke. Leaning against the doorframe, he squints his eyes against the morning light and enjoys the quiet, interrupted only by the drowsy sounds of the Gallows personnel as they wake, and the cries of seabirds.
II. THE LIBRARY
He's never been in a library before.
No, really. The casteless dwarves certainly weren't allowed into the Diamond Quarter back in Orzammar, let alone into the hallowed halls of the Shaperate with her many mysteries and memories of the dwarves who came before. As a dead-eyed duster kid looking up at the Diamond Quarter from the stifling ruins of Dust Town, Kit liked to imagine that there was, at one point, a Gandir dwarf who'd had a name, a caste, and a life recorded in those memories. Before he'd been reviled, and then forgotten, and then reviled again.
It was a stupid thing to waste energy daydreaming about, when he had no idea where his next meal was going to come from. And with the Legion, the only books he read were the ones that his fellows used to teach him his letters.
So it's not academic curiosity that brings Kit and his crutch limping into the Gallows library, each awkward step resonating with embarrassing noisiness throughout the cavernous chamber. He grimaces, and tries to peg-leg along more discreetly; does this place have anything on dwarven history? Probably not. He looks anyway.
III. WILDCARD
[got a better idea? go for it, man, I'll roll with anything as long as it's set in the Gallows]
Re: I
All the attendants hovering around the young girl give him some pause. Whatever is wrong with her--and it doesn't take a genius to guess that it's connected to the magical green anomaly glowing in her chest--it can't be good news.
He's drifting along the edges of nodding off to sleep again when Sina wakes up and smiles at him. He immediately smiles back--how can you not?
"You missed breakfast," he notes dryly, "but I think you might be just in time for lunch."
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It's possible she isn't entirely awake yet, or she might have noticed that Kit's ears aren't pointed and that he's rather shorter in stature. But she's programmed to identify people by their facial tattoos, and his are not any that she recognizes.
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Well that's... neat. Kit can't decide at first if the girl is awake or still dreaming, but she seems to see him enough to notice his tattoos. He shifts on the cot, propping himself up onto one arm.
"Pretty far away, yeah," he replies, then points down into the earth. "Orzammar. I got these in the Deep Roads from..." He trails off, trying to determine the best way to describe the Legion of the Dead to an elf who's likely never heard of them before. "...I guess I got them from folks who are like my clan." Like family.
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She's never been, of course, to there or anywhere else one might find a surplus of people his height, and has never in fact spoken to any such individual within the Inquisition.
"You're a dwarf." She would no doubt be a little less obtuse if she weren't still waking up, but at the very least Sina seems pleased by this revelation, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.
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Kit's smile spreads slowly, and then he chuckles, unable to stop himself. "Yeah, you got me." Like this was some parlor game of charades or something.
He eases himself up into a sitting position and swings both legs, included the patched and bandaged one, over the side of the cot, then reaches for his crutch to stand up. He can smell the savory fragrance of stew cooking outside, and that's more than enough to whet his appetite.
He looks back at Sina and raises his eyebrows. "You hungry for lunch? I think it's just about ready."
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"Oh," she murmurs, lifting her head slightly, "maybe. I should." She lays it back down with a sigh, closing her eyes again. "I can barely lift my eyelids, let alone a spoon."
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He frowns, considering. "Want me to get someone to come help you?" he offers. He'd offer himself, but that might be a little weird.
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Not for the first time, the look he gives her is full of concern; this just might be the first time she's been conscious enough to see it herself. He tilts his head a little. "...You all right?"
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