Simple Gifts [Closed]

[laurenande]

WHO: Galadriel, Thranduil, Solas, Myrobalan, Merrill, Kitty, Lakshmi, Teren, Marcoulf, Jang, Obi-Wan, and Anders
WHAT: A trip to a perfectly normal Chantry in the middle of nowhere.
WHEN: Current.
WHERE: The Island of Alamar, Ferelden.
NOTES: Current warnings, to be updated: Graphic Descriptions of Gore

The Abbey on the White Cliff

Travel to the Abbey on the White Cliff is no easy matter. While it stands not far from Amaranthine, the waters between the mainland and the island shores are a wicked confluence of eddies and razor sharp rock. The rain is ever-present here and the wind moves unpredictably at the best of times. Ships of size cannot travel easily to the island of Alamar and small boats are rarely steady through the choppy water. Fortunately, as the Inquisition approaches, the world takes some pity on them and the waters seem to still and calm. The clouds linger but, at the very least, they don't open above them until they have reached the land.

The island is a grey affair, all rocks and scrub and damp. The village, an austere looking outcropping of buildings, is entirely made from the local stone and, were it not for the red clay roofing, would blend into the landscape seamlessly. Very few people have strayed into the rain to greet the Inquisition and, without the voices to echo off the stone, most sound is drowned in the lapping of waves and the heavy fall of rain. As a result of the weather and the lack of citizens, the town has the general quality of a graveyard.

The merchants who work the docks are affable enough and, after unloading their haul and securing it somewhere a bit drier, offer to take the Inquisition up to the Abbey proper. The rain slows before long and the merchants lead the Inquisition to the main roads and, let them on their way. Fortunately, the Island is not terribly large and, even walking, it will take only a few hours to arrive at the far side of it.

As the party leaves the village and the shore, the island landscape opens before them. Sloping moors give way to periodic outcroppings of rock and, against the horizon and the far end of the island, there rests a dark forest of pines. The Abbey on the White Cliff stands at the far side, at the top of the hill and overlooking the waves. The road they travel is an easy one, well worn, and the buildings come into view long before they reach them--they stand several stories tall, made of the same stone as the village. They are moss-covered and have the look of an old building that has been questionably kept--at least, from a distance.

The closer one gets to the buildings, the more obvious the additions and repairs become. Windows that have no business holding glass have had colorful windows inset to them. The doors are heavy, wooden, and new. The ironwork on the walls is polished and unworn by the rain. There are no torches lit but, once the Inquisition members have reached the doors, they open promptly.

They are greeted by a Chantry Sister with a bright smile and rosy cheeks and, without hesitation, the lot of them are welcomed into the Abbey.


OOC:

Hey guys! So I plan on aggressively GMing this one. Basically I want to run this like D&D, or as near as I can manage.

The location threads below are available for single player/two player exploration, I will be tagging you with information based on where you go or what you do, but if you want to do a bigger thread please just use the team threads at the bottom. That way if you all decide you want to check out the [INSERT LOCATION HERE] and it leads you to [DIFFERENT LOCATION] I can move you along without changing threads.

Because of your proficiencies, different characters will have advantages in different areas/while talking to different people, so groups are best. I will also be PMing your character journal periodically with any information that your character may have picked up on that nobody else would.

The NPCs are available for talking to or questioning by any number of people. Their general locations are in their thread headers so you can travel there as a crew or ask me to send them at you, if you so desire.

Feel free to do new top-levels if you guys really want, I am just here to try and make this fun.

Comments

The Abbey on the White Cliff

[laurenande]

The Abbey is not terribly large, it is not a sprawling place and it does not rise above the trees, but it is not a small facility. At the height of its use, the Abbey held two dozen Sisters and lay Sisters, all learning and singing the Chant. Now, it is packed full to bursting with the faithful, housing nearly a hundred souls within its walls.

The rooms can be difficult to navigate, for all the people in them, but the crowd is filled with friendly sorts and they will move aside with a smile if approached. The rain keeps everyone penned inside for the most part, but the glass on the windows keeps out the damp, even if it does not insulate the interior from the sharp cold and the drafts that put out every flame within moments of it being lit.

The Abbey is a beautiful place, if old and only recently undergoing any sort of renovation, but at its core it is a reflection of the island around it. It is grey, damp, and with the smell and taste of chalk and the sea all about it.

(OOC: Please use these threads if you want your characters to explore somewhere alone or without their team. Or if you want to go somewhere with someone from another team. Really, this is a catch all for threads that aren't team-based dungeon progression.)

The Main Hall

[laurenande]

The Main hall is a long building, it is the mirror of nearly every Chantry in the whole of Thedas. It stretches from the front doors of the Abbey like the hall at Skyhold, if not quite so soaring and tall. The nave is lined with twin rows of columns and, beyond them rests a single row of benches on either side. Small alcoves open up every handful of feet, each furnished with a small table and lit by a set of glass windows that reach near to the arching of the ceiling. Hundreds of unlit candles sit on the tables before the windows and a watery grey light filters down on them, lighting the hall in an a sleepy, quiet way.

Most of the pilgrims who have come to this place sit here, on benches new and old, or in a mix of rough and finely hewn chairs, none of which match the building itself. The high stretching ceiling absorbs some of the conversations, but the room is still loud in the way that all crowded rooms are wont to be. Whispers mount atop one another until there is a quiet din of hushed conversation.

Any Sister or Brother of this Abbey can be found in this hall and they wander through it with some frequency. They travel through to the buildings on either side, to the garden or the cloister, and occasionally through the doors at the very end. Through these doors, even with the din of conversation, there is a persistent sound of construction and, of all the doors in the Abbey, these are the only ones that have a Sister standing outside of them, preventing entry.

[esquive]

There are questions to be asked of the abbey's sisters, the mother, its apparent skeleton crew of strange but working hands. But Marcoulf isn't especially bred for the the task of asking questions of them. He can faintly remember the chantry sisters near the place he'd apprenticed as a boy, and the urge to ask too many questions of them is quashed by the near instinctive certainty that doing so is a fine way to talk himself out of a meal. That it isn't true anymore doesn't really figure. Childhood habits leave strange echoes behind, ones that like most of all to rear their heads in grim places like this one.

So if Marcoulf's loitering in the hall among some of the common folk who have made their way to the abbey, it isn't because he has sophisticated designs on much of anything. He's just bored and curious and ninety percent of the delegation from the Inquisition are rifters or treasonous mages or elves or all of the above and sometimes the combination is exhausting. Normal people in normal places are relaxing and easier by far to talk to than most of the people he'd arrived with.

He's positioned near a small cluster of pilgrims toward the end of the hall, not so distant from the heavy door. The sounds of building leak through to here, punctuating the idle conversation: "Are you from the island?" "Is the weather always so dire?" "What ails you, little brother?"

auditorium

[dirth]

Solas is beginning to realise there are things to be found in the places where no one else wants to look, in the places where people that live here are trying to keep secret. The kitchen with the locked door was one thing and he had learned his lesson for that - he still has the bruise and the sore head to show what he had been given for that adventure. The infirmary shows just how much people are suffering, and Solas can no longer remain ignorant.

Walking through the main hall is easy enough and he watches the people move around, alcoves here and there and tables for people to sit at. He lifts his head to look at the light before he shifts and continues on his way, wondering and thinking about where to go next, what to do with himself. He's frustrated by everything that's happening here, frustrated by the nature of this place and what it's doing to the people around this place.

He's trying not to think about Galadriel, even as his concern presses down on him.

When he reaches the door near the end he begins to hear the sound of things happening, the construction, the sounds of something behind it. He hovers near the door for a moment before he begins to follow the wall around, letting his fingers press into the stone to see if he can find a second entrance, the kind of entrance that isn't being guarded by a sister.

The Cloister

[laurenande]

To the east of the main hall there is a wide plaza surrounded on all sides by a covered walkway made of stone arches and paved in concrete. In the center of the plaza, there are a few shrubs, but they are wilting a bit as their access to the sky has been cut off. The plaza has been covered over with a wooden awning. The smell of newly cut pine is in the air and fights against the brine of the ocean and the smell of the flowers that line the ground beside the shrubs.

A statue of Andraste stands at the center of the plaza, beneath the awning, but it is a new addition and flanked on all sides with sawhorses and heavy tables erected of new wood. The people who wander through this place are hauling and towing, carrying loads and tools, working hard and in constant motion. It is a different atmosphere entirely from the Main Hall.

Below the awnings there are always men working, lifting lumber and chopping wood, forming planks, or carving small details into decorative pieces. The rain patters on throughout all their work, but they are dry here. They have not been spared the cold that permeates this place, but their candles are generally lit and sit in a ring around the statue they have erected.

for Anders

[doneisdone]

It's behind a pile of crates and wood that Teren has asked Anders to meet her, the quickest of invitations given in the form of a whisper as they passed in the dormitory hallways right after breakfast. It's midday now, and the hubbub of construction and voices is enough, she thinks to disguise their conversation.
Though known to be paranoid, even by Warden standards, Teren has come to trust that Anders will both believe her and be honest with his answer. And the question is a pressing one, though how pressing, she can only begin to imagine.

the fourth night;

[chainlightning]

Merrill was lost.

It wasn't exactly surprising - Merrill was navigationally challenged outside of the forest and the wilds. That's always been true. It's a bit alarming, though. She's in a strange place and her friends are disappearing, and Merrill did not want to be next. She maybe should have thought it through before venturing out alone to try and find them, but she- hadn't. She had given Galadriel and Solas the day, but when neither returned and she could find no trace of them...

Well, then Merrill went looking.

The shapes of the carpentry loomed in the dark and turned her further around. Logically, Merrill was pretty sure that she had an idea of where she was. How to get back to where she was meant to be, though? That was beyond her - and besides, Galadriel and Solas certainly weren't where they were meant to be. Staff in hand and feet bare, Merrill shivered and clutched at the amulet around her neck. Superstitious, but the stories said that Sylaise had taught the elves fire; perhaps she would find some warmth or some light, so long as she clung to the necklace named for her.

The Dormatories

[laurenande]

The Inquisition is welcomed with open arms to the Abbey, but not all welcomes are quite equal. Those who bare a rift mark are given a bit more kindness than those who do not. Rooms are cleared and opened to the marked, and while the beds are three to a space, they are still beds and they are made up with both sheets and blankets, adorned with a down pillow each. Those without marks are given cots, just as the rest of the pilgrims are, and their blankets are no less thick but their pillows are markedly thinner, if they are present at all.

The dormatories are east of the main hall, above the kitchens and the storehouses, overlooking trees and the cloister. The windows here have no glass but their shutters pull tight and the windows are covered by heavy curtains. There are a few niceties, mirrors and bookshelves that have not been moved in a century, but everything else has been moved or shuffled away to make room for those who come to the Abbey every day.

The Inquisition members are lucky, they are not sleeping in the Main Hall or the hallways that line the Abbey, but the space they share is cramped. The kitchens below are loud, but there is fortunately no smoke rising from them to choke the windows or spoil the air.

badadada, night wandering, deseeerves a quiet niight

[doneisdone]

On their second night, Teren's insomnia comes out a bit stronger despite her being unable to catch up properly. Sleeping in a new place is always like that, isn't it? And rather than go seek out Brother Morely for another night of futile candle lighting, she opts to simply pace the halls.
There's something not right here, after all. She gets nervous on missions like this, with all these new people in this new place, so far from home, and with rifters who truly didn't know better. Didn't know the world is quick to take advantage of their ilk, the new and the magical.

For this reason, Teren is actually checking the rooms like a fretful governess, turning the latch of each door as silently as she can and cracking it open to peer inside, count the glows, gently close it again. She's not used to the layout of the sleeping arrangements, so this results in checking on far more than just rifters, but somehow her only reassurance can come from knowing everyone else is unconscious.
Harder to plan an ambush that way, at least.

The Garden

[laurenande]

To the west of the main hall, stretching back toward the dense wall of tall, dark pines that rise around and grow against the Abbey, there is a garden. It slopes with the gentle curves of the hill and is cut into uneven, amateur portions. The sections are divided by rows of stones and scattered low fences of spare wood and interwoven sticks. There is a path of packed dirt, but it meanders nearly as much as the garden itself, and stops before the edge of the trees where they rise against the wall of the main building. There are paths that stretch off into the trees but they are less well defined and their destinations unknown.

It seems that one of nearly everything is planted in the garden of the Abbey. There are vegetables and fruits, vines and gourds and, despite the weather and the chill, the chalk in the soil and the time of year, not one plant seems to be suffering. They are pristine things, each growing and flowering and heavy with perfect fruits. It is a curious sight made even curiouser by the lack of a gardener or tools.

[chainlightning]

Is it any surprise that the Dalish is drawn to the garden, the closest thing to the wildness in this place? Merrill doesn't think so. The plants may be divided and grouped, but there is the forest and the meandering path, and a part of Merrill wants to wander off into it and see what else lies on this island. Perhaps she will - not all secrets rest in the places men have tamed, and if there is a secret to be found, Merrill wouldn't be surprised if it were kept away from the Abbey itself.

For now, she is more interested in what secrets the garden may hold. The plants look- well, amazing, actually. Merrill wanders barefoot between them, careful not to tread on leaf or vine, resting the heaviness of the fruit in her palm. There scarcely seem to be any blemishes, and she wonders what would happen, if she were to draw upon her Keeper magic here - would the land rise up in its typical way? Would it strike out harder? Would it lash back at her?

[justice_is_blond]

He comes out to the Gardens himself, wanting to see what can be done by any who actually want to help the suffering here, and is promptly shocked by how good and healthy it looks. The cold and darkness don't line up with that.

Unless the fertilizer being used is people. Death feeding life seems to be the theme of this place, unless he's missing his guess with the slowly building theory in his mind. The sight of Myr draws him out of his grim thoughts, though, and Anders heads over to join the elf.

"I'd ask if we'd ever get to go somewhere nice, but the Tourney was nice."

Re: The Garden

[whiskeyandbrimstone]

Jang walks out to the garden, the rain hitting her coat and running down her face. She heads over to the garden wall and looks down the cliff and into the ocean. It reminds her of home a bit, she always loved it when it rained, and hearing the ocean crashing reminds her of the docks.

There is a lot going on here, and even more she doesn't understand. She needs to find a solid point too build off of, but everything here is squishy. She starts to wander the gardens, looking for anyone she may be able to talk to, try and get a better sense of what's going on.

The Infirmary Hall - CW: GORE

[laurenande]

To the west of the Main Hall, beyond the garden, there is a small building that sits near the edge of the cliff, just where the trees begin to pull away. The Infirmary has heavy windows and a bright red wooden door. It is less than half the size of the Main Hall, but it is nearly as crowded.

The interior of the Infirmary is packed with a solid quarter of the population of the Abbey. Men, women, and children linger here and their injuries and illnesses are a tapestry of pain and suffering. More than a few of them are missing limbs, show the signs of gangrene or sepsis, and those who are ill are beyond what hope medicine or magic can truly grant them. These are pilgrims who have come to the house of the Maker to find what aid religion can provide.

They rest comfortably, tended to by Brother Estmond, but the building stinks of blood, effluvia, and the bitter tang of potions.

In all the Abbey this is the only room that is truly warm and, of all the buildings, it is the only one that has a lit hearth. The flames are not hardy, unfortunately, but with perpetual tending they maintain well enough to keep from extinguishing themselves.

Re: The Infirmary Hall - CW: GORE

[whiskeyandbrimstone]

Jang walks into the infirmary, and stops dead. This image in front of her eyes is bringing back bad memories, of battlefields, field hospitals and amputations, the sort of thing you need to show anyone who thinks war is glorious. She takes a breath and moves in the room farther, looking around the room, trying to spot anyone who seems to be in charge, and heads over to Brother Estmond.

She waits until he has a moment and then clears her throat. "Excuse me...I don't suppose you need any help? I have a bit of medical training, as well as some magical skills, but...a lot of these people would be beyond my help. But I can bandage and make sure people are comfortable."

[dirth]

The healer has the bloodiest hands.

It's one of the things that Solas has always reminded himself of when things have been bleak. When he had questioned his own place, when he had wondered what he was doing with himself. It makes sense that he would find his way back to the infirmary, as if it might have anything to show him or tell him, as if he might be able to discover something that he had missed elsewhere. Secrets are kept in all places, after all.

People are ill, he can see it, and his stomach drops as he looks around the room. There are so many people suffering here and his frown deepens as he looks around, feet quietly padding against the floor. The smell is enough to overwhelm someone who is not used to battlefields, and he shifts, beginning to walk forward.

Perhaps there is something he might be able to do to help these people, but he is unsure.

[justice_is_blond]

He comes back here tired and frustrated and trying to push past that, heading straight for the table where he'd left his notes and various herbs when he notices that Estmond isn't here. That's disappointing. He'd looked forward to Estmond's eagerness to make progress, and company that liked seeing him.

Anders presses his lips together and just gets back to work, reminding himself that at least there's one person here who knows him and has faith in him. Why would he need more?

The Offices and Library

[laurenande]

Beyond the northern transept the walkway is worn but unkempt. It leads to a small building that is cramped with all the shuffled furnishings that once resided in the dormatories. The rooms of this building were once for study and, assuming one can wedge the doors open, each room still holds the books and desks and writing implements that the Sisters used before they had to turn their full attention to the faithful.

The shelves are packed with journals and religious texts, books on medicine and gardening and earthly things rest in trunks and atop old tables, gathering dust. Littered across every floor in every room are stacks upon stacks of personal belongings. Small trinkets, notes and letters, toys or gifts rest in every corner, dust covering them in thick sheets. One room is filled with cloth, spare shirts and pants, robes and vestments, enough to clothe everyone in the Abbey now. It is an oddly grim sight.

At the end of the hall, past all of the obstacles and miscellany, there is an office with a single lit candle. This flame does not guttter or twist as the others do. It burns, unhindered, on a large desk, surrounded by clean books and a quill. The shelves in this room are clear and open, unimpeded by the stacks that block every other room and corner of this building. This is the Abbey's library and, for all that everything has shifted in this place, this room has remained unchanged for decades.

[justice_is_blond]

It's late in the evening when Anders comes up here, quietly looking through the stacks and noticing the dust everywhere. He's never seen a library with dusty books before. He trails his finger through the dust on one pile before brushing it off with his thumb and frowning. The room of clothing gives him an altogether different pause, though.

He scatters a couple of wisps around the room as he goes in to try to get a closer look. If the clothing is new, maybe it's for the future. If it's worn... If it's worn, then that's a lot of dead or missing.

Team Escalation!!

[rathercommon]

Honestly, when Kitty steps into the library, it's like settling into a hot bath on a cold day. It's not like she's some madwoman for order, but she'd grown up in a household where things were put away in their places. Those cluttered offices made her feel irritated and snappish; this clean, open space, by contrast, is a relief. She lets out a breath, and actually smiles, and says to her companions -

"This looks promising. Let's see what they've got."

The Kitchens

[laurenande]

The kitchens are a large space, two wide tables that parallel the long walls of the building. There are stoves on each wall, troughs and basins for washing, and a myriad of hanging pans that dangle heavy from the mounts in the ceiling. The rooms were designed to feed a full Abbey of people but they are clearly insufficient for the hundred strong that reside here now.

What space the room once had is taken up, absorbed completely by baskets and open casks filled with fresh vegetables, fruits, flour sacks full of bread, buckets of butter and huge containers of milk. There are no grains, nor beans, nor anything that require a flame to heat and cook. It is curious but the chill in the room is enough that the quality of the ingredients, however perishable they are, is not so unbelievable.

There are three doors to the kitchen. One door leads out into the cloister and back toward the main hall, one leads to the side yard where the water pump is, and the last leads down, presumably into the larder or a cellar below the kitchens. This door is shut with a sliding wooden lock to hold the doors closed.

[dirth]

The kitchens are often where most secrets can be found; Solas can bury himself in them, speak to servants, press himself into their space as though he was meant to be there. Being an apostate elf has given him many guises and many things to hide behind, and pretending to be any kind of servant has aways worked well for him.

Moving through, he pauses at the doorway, looking around. There are baskets everywhere, casks filled with fresh foods, breads, butters, and it seems for all that he can guess and see to be nothing more than your typical kitchen space. With all the discomfort they've been feeling since they first showed up he had hoped that there might have been something to find in the midst of those that are often overlooked, but...

Moving forward, he reaches out and places his hand over the locked door, turning to look around at the rest of the room.

The Southern Transept

[laurenande]

In the southern transept, near the end of the Main Hall, few people linger. It is not an unpleasant place, but it leads nowhere and is chillier than the rest of the building. There are two doors there. The door against the forward wall leads down and to the apartments of the Reverend Mother. The door to the exterior of the building has been blocked off and boarded up. The light that filters through the windows, there, is muted and blotted out by the great inky shadows of the trees that loom around the Abbey. They are close to the building here and the shadows they cast are long and cold.

To the right side of the door, opposite the forward wall, there are a series of steps that lead downward into what should be a storm cellar. They are easily missed, hidden in that dark and disused corner of the building, but there are no doors to block them. If one strays closely enough one can hear the dripping and sloshing of water below, as though there is a great cistern full of it beneath the floor.

If one listens very hard, they can hear soft and distant whispering, but it is an evasive thing and lost as easily as it is found.

The Laundry

[laurenande]

Perhaps most remarkable is that it is warm here. The fires set to boil the water that cleanses the Abbey's cloth goods never flicker, dampen, or die. Opening the door regardless of hour will send a cloud of lye scented steam billowing into the hallway, and the interior is filled with more of the same.

The large room is hot, humid, and filled with vats of both wood and metal containing heated water for soaping, soaking, and rinsing, and linens of all kinds hang in somewhat orderly fashion throughout, making it impossible to see the whole of the room at one time.

day 3, evening-ish, crystal;

[faithlikeaseed]

[Myr's message is a little--or perhaps a lot--broken up, but the concern in his voice is clear.]

Inquisition. I've a warning for the mages among us--

You know something's been suppressing our magic; where it comes to most spells, I think--I think--that's purely incidental and not anything inimical. However, there's something here that's actively antagonistic toward spirits; at least one of the abbeyfolk I've spoken to has expressed concerns for our safety if we keep using spirit magic.

For the remainder of our time here I highly suggest avoiding any use of it. Not even barriers.

(OOC: If you'd like your character to have not gotten this/not heard most of it due to fuzzing to avoid stomping on any later plot threads, go for it!! Myr feels he has a Duty to Warn on this one & can also check in with people in person if it's something you would like to do!)