OPEN: Kirkwail

[faderifting]

WHO: Anyone
WHAT: Ghosts
WHEN: Wintermarch 20
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: OOC post. More content warnings than you can shake a stick at, probably, including allusions to slavery and violence in the body of the log post. Please use appropriate warnings in the subject lines for your own threads.

The storm sweeps in like an assassin: unexpected, in the dark, and throwing sharp pricks of sleet at exposed eyes and noses with expert aim and enough force to almost draw blood if the angle is right. Half an hour after the clouds crest the cliffs is all it takes for the city to retract indoors and huddle around fireplaces, settling in for a long night that will, unforeseen, turn into a long two days.

The Gallows, too, is pelted with ice; the walls of the cliffs and the fortress protect much of it from the worst of the wind, but when it can find a path over or through the walls, it slams through windows or doors to scatter papers and snuff out fires.

In the dark, in the rain, hurrying between towers or already accustomed to jumping firelight casting strange shadows and the wind howling like a wounded animal, people might be forgiven if they don't notice at first. But there's a hanging in the courtyard, a dozen translucent wisps of bodies dangling from the idea of nooses, and there's a girl's voice in the basement of the templar tower screaming for her mother, and there's a ghostly man in the library holding the blade of a knife to his palm and whispering this is it, this is it—or maybe there isn't, actually, when you lift your head to pay closer attention.

But as the night wears on they multiply, and they brighten, and even if you haven't noticed them, they begin to notice you.

Comments

[justice_is_blond]

Julian's statement gets a snort. Truly Kirkwall was the worst place to bring a bunch of people tied to veil tearing and use a lot of magic, but the Inquisition hadn't been welcome many other places and beggars can't be choosers. Inessa, though, gets a side-long look.

"I can't forgive people who hurt others with blood magic," he says slowly, "but it's... a school, and not all blood mages are like that." If she can't stop hating it, he doesn't know what hope there is for getting the Taint cure worked on further. He's got to tell the Grey Wardens the specifics sooner or later, at the very least, but if it endangers Merrill...

"I've known... a few. And most were awful people. But there have been two that weren't. Maybe part of it is that the only people who learn it have to already be fighting everything else? That they're less prone to..." He trails off as a scream echoes in the halls, one that sounds too hollow to be happening in the here and now but is filled with terror nonetheless. "This isn't the time. I'm sorry. We're nearly to the ground floor, at least."

[overharrowed]

Julius' expression thins a little, at Anders' effort to soften Inessa's condemnation of blood mages. He's right; it's not the time to get into an argument, not when all three of them are already upset and shaken.

"We may have to split up, if distance alone doesn't deter them. Too many of our horrors are shared, conceptually or otherwise." But he's not eager to be on his own again, and makes no move to peel off. Instead, he suggests, "Maybe some others have had the same idea to go outside. Comparing notes might lead us toward whatever triggered all of this."