Open

[in_death_sacrifice]

WHO: Kain and OPEN
WHAT: The return to Kirkwall
WHEN: After they return and onward into the earlier parts of the month
WHERE: Kirkwall/Gallows
NOTES: Talk of violence and death.

Infirmary

With that neck injury, Kain has been ordered to stay in bed for a little while, to be certain he'll properly heal. He's not exactly thrilled about this, even if he's struggling to behave as much as possible. Though with each day that passes, he gets more and more restless. He tries to occupy himself with books and has already amassed a sizable stack on the nearby table. When he sees someone else who seems like they might be up for it, he waves a deck of cards with his right arm.

"Care for a couple of rounds of something?"

Garden

Eventually, Kain is allowed to take short walks and move around some more. Short, careful walks being the order, not that he's good at obeying it. With his neck in a brace and his left arm in a sling, he definitely still looks quite beaten. But at least the scary part is over, and it seems that the extent of the neck injury wasn't as debilitating as they'd feared it could be. It's still serious and the broken bones need time to fully mend, but they've started to by now.

Today, though, as he's walking around the area, Kain has an especially somber expression on his face. He's gotten some terrible news from home, as now the names of casualties are beginning to come in... He's clutching a letter and envelope in his good hand, so hard the paper is getting all crumpled up. As he walks, he accidentally drops the envelope unnoticed. All he can do right now is keep pacing around, going in a circle, faster and faster as his terrible mood appears to worsen.

Library

At some point, Kain manages to get himself put on light duties. He can't go back to his usual training at the moment, or do anything requiring physical exertion, but he hates being inactive, feeling useless. So he gets to do some boring paperwork for a little while, and there sure is a lot of it. He takes it all to the library, finding a good place to settle and work.

Except he hadn't anticipated how difficult it would be to do this with his "off" hand. The left is still all slung up to prevent the shoulder- the actual broken part- from moving. So he's kind of stuck. He struggles, dipping the quill into ink, then tries to write, pretty sloppily. He gets increasingly frustrated until... whoops!... his hand accidentally knocks the ink, spilling it all over.

"Maker damn it!!" He pounds his right fist on the table in frustration.

Training Area

Of course, he sneaks out to the training area eventually anyway, it's inevitable once he's allowed to get up and move around. He stands aside brooding as he watches others train. When the area clears out and he's pretty sure he's alone, he goes over to pick up a light, one handed sword in his good hand. He takes a couple of experimental swings with it. All he wants right now is to know he can defend himself if, for some reason, he needs to...

Comments

Garden

[circleprodigy]

Inessa has been trying to give Kain some space, not wanting him to feel smothered or micromanaged. So while she's aware he's not the greatest at following suggestions, it's not in her to interfere unless there's a reason. Bringing Garahel out to the gardens for some physical therapy, she spots Kain several paces away. Since he seems to be lost in thought, she almost lets him be...but that circular pacing and dropped envelope get her attention.

Frowning softly, she follows as Garahel goes to retrieve it for him, the mabari's movements just a little stiff but much improved. "...Kain? What's the matter?"

library

[cozen]

"You must be more specific," says a voice from the stacks, Orlesian accented and belonging to a man who's not yet turned around from the book spines he's scanning, "in case this is the moment He decides to act, and you have cursed some undefined it to an eternity of darkness. The table?"

The table was the target of the pounding sound, he's fairly sure, but he has to turn around to look at the rest of the scene to keep speculating.

"The ink? Or the entire library, perhaps, with me in it—the Maker is more discerning than that, we hope, but there is nothing to stop a god from being irrational if that is what He wants to do."

None of this is helpful, probably. But it is delivered kindly enough, quiet and thoughtful rather than too pointed in its teasing, and in the meantime he comes closer to help in earnest, producing a handkerchief for the table and lifting one of the ink-splattered bits of paper to get a better view of the damage.

[in_death_sacrifice]

Kain definitely appreciates Inessa giving him his space as much as she has. At the same time, he also appreciates when she's around, to help out when he needs it. It's hard functioning with his dominant arm out of commission, after all. He's trying to work around it as much as he can, of course, being him, not wanting to be completely held back.

He looks over toward Garahel, definitely noticing that he seems to be getting stronger, then up toward Inessa. He shakes his head, actually needing a moment to regain composure. News from home has been hard to bear lately, with word having come about one after another acquaintance who'd been lost in the battle. But this time... this time it's a whole lot worse.

"More word from home. Another... There's been another confirmed death."

[in_death_sacrifice]

Kain sighs heavily, clearly frustrated by what's happened, but he soon enough realizes that it's not meant as anything more than a slight jest. No terrible harm is actually done, anyway, from what he can tell. Not to anything particularly valuable, at any rate, though that stain on the table may be difficult to fully get out.

"As much as I'd like to blame the ink itself, it's not the one at fault. I picked the wrong side to injure." He frowns, looking at the sling his left arm is currently stuck in. He starts picking up some of the papers as well, examining them, setting aside what's salvageable. "Thank you, by the way."

[circleprodigy]

Her shoulders sag at that, and she sighs. It's not unsurprising news, given the massive defeat suffered, but losing more people is a burden Kain shouldn't have to bear. She glances down and shakes her head before stepping in to rest against his side.

"...so much for hoping that such news would cease. I'm sorry, Kain. Who...?"

[in_death_sacrifice]

"I know... but a lot of the news has taken a while to fully get here... we still don't know a lot about the full extent of our losses, the exact numbers..." It's easier to talk about that general stuff, so he starts there, but his emotions are very much starting to spill over a little. He clears his throat, slumping a little and looking a bit unsteady on his feet.

First, there'd been Biggs and Wedge, that had been rather hard to bear: they'd all trained together, and the two had gone on to become Templars with Cecil. Noble's sons, both of them, and good men as far as Orlesian nobles went. Then he'd heard about Ser Baigan, a chevalier well liked and respected within the Heartlands especially, very loyal to his people.

But this... This loss hits closer to home. He'd not been as close to all those others as Cecil, so he feels more for his friend in those cases. They're sad losses, yes, but Cid...

"It's... it's Cid Polenta. The artificer, I think I told you about him before, how close he was to Cecil, Rosalie, and I, almost another father-figure of a sort..."

[circleprodigy]

Cid. Inessa remembers that name, having listened to whatever fragments of Kain's past that he chose to share with her. She never took the initiative on prying, but gently encouraged him through questions whenever he did bring it up. She knew how fond he was of the man...and how much this had to hurt now. Without a word, she slips her arms around him as Garahel rests his weight on Kain's other side, whining softly.

"You did, I remember. We can go to the chapel and light a candle for him, if you want." Kain is still recovering, she can't encourage him to go be with his friends right now, even if the Wardens and Inquisition did the unlikely and permitted it. But that doesn't mean the man can't be remembered in some small way.

[in_death_sacrifice]

Yes, at this point, Kain will have brought up all of the important people in his past, those he'd grown up with or gotten to know well even later on. Some friends he'd met only after becoming a Warden, but some, like Cecil and Rosalie, and Cid... He'd known them essentially for his entire life. He leans in toward her now, for a moment just wrapping his good arm around her in turn and letting down some of that usual guard.

"I'd... yes, I'd like that, if we could. He means a lot to me and I... I just wish I'd gone to visit more, to tell him how much he meant..." But of course, that was pretty impossible, given how busy they generally are around here. It's just not realistic to think about returning home all that often. Not getting to say a proper farewell definitely hurts.

[circleprodigy]

"I never met the man, but I'm willing to bet that he knew even without you telling him so. You express how you feel in action more than words, and anyone who knows you can tell that much. Give him some credit, hm?" She gives him a light squeeze, a small sad smile on her lips. "We can also ask for his name to be included when they have a service. It's all too common these days."

[cozen]

"De rien," Bastien says easily, setting aside the papers in his hands so he can produce a handkerchief—one already spotted with blue-black and gray stains where previous ink stains have been washed out of it—and catch the larger pools of ink so they don't spread or catch any sleeves. When it's done mopping up what it can of this mess, maybe it will be a gray handkerchief with a few white spots instead of the other way around.

In the meantime he cuts a glance at the man, at the arm, and at the work set aside.

"Did they ask you which arm, before they did it?"

[in_death_sacrifice]

"I hope you're right. I don't... I'm not one to tell others nearly enough how much I appreciate them, when I really do..." He feels so bad about this fact, knowing that she's right, it's just who he is. He's not the best at socializing. He never has been. "He taught Cecil and I so much about combat... I only regret that he never got to bring some of his inventions to our cause here. One can only imagine what he might have achieved, if he had even more resources..."

The man had been a bit wacky at times, of course, drawing designs for things that are just not possible, like ships that could go through the air. But some of his more realistic works as an artificer definitely proved to be useful.

"That's also a good idea, about the service... that ought to be happening for all of those lost, after all."

[in_death_sacrifice]

Kain is grateful for the help, given that it's quite a bit of ink that's gotten spilled. At least the damage... isn't as bad as he'd initially feared, he's noticing as he continues going through what can be saved, and what can't be. He won't have to start all over from the beginning, which is good, because he's been here for a good few hours at this point.

He gives a wry smirk that turns soon enough to a grimace when he recalls the events of that injury. "I doubt there's an opponent on any world who would be so accommodating. I'd still have preferred it not to have happened at all, but it is what it is." He doesn't regret saving someone in the process, though, but he'd just not planned on it ending up like this.

[circleprodigy]

"Alright, then. Let's go." She gently loops her arm around his, gently urging in in the direction of the chapel. "You do what you need, and I'll be at your side. I promise, we won't go anywhere." Garahel huffs in agreement, following alongside the couple. He'll faithfully wait for them just outside, probably take advantage of the moment for a nap.

[in_death_sacrifice]

"I'm so... so glad to have you right now." Kain looks over at Inessa, and then over down toward Garahel. "Both of you. I don't know what I would do otherwise..." He'd definitely be a lot worse off than he is, that much is very certain. He's never really had someone before like this, someone there for him at such a time.

Slowly, he makes his way alongside her toward the chapel.