faderift | Skyhold

Skyhold

WHO: Anyone & everyone
WHAT: Open post for business as usual around Skyhold
WHEN: The first couple weeks of Harvestmere, 9:41 (aka October)
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Please mark any necessary content warnings in thread subject lines. Also, make sure to check out the other log posts already made!

Far from the glamorous adventurous world-saving people signed up for, most of the hustle and bustle in Skyhold at present is cleaning. The Great Hall is a disaster, and crews are assigned to haul out the cracked and rotting planks fallen from the wide-open roof, and tear down the vines covering the walls. Ivy encrusts the main staircase outside and many of the fortress walls and is cleared in section while other groups assess or begin shoring up the stonework as it's revealed. There are scaffolding to build, materials to sort, crates to unload, tents to stitch together or set-up, and on and on and on, endless mundane chores vital to the survival of the organization.

When not hard at work, people cluster around fires across the courtyards. Many mingle freely, going about their business, running errands and messages, planning scouting missions, tallying up supplies, distributing or playing with the sending crystals that were found in a basement vault and which a group of mages have just today finished preparing for use. Once a good number have been passed around and the first Inquisition-wide transmission made messages start being broadcast; maybe you can help someone out.

The rebel mages and renegade templars mainly keep to themselves at opposite sides of the complex given the choice. Mages assist with healing and research and bicker amongst themselves about their options and their fate. Templars help train recruits in swordforms and basic combat techniques or spar with the more advanced and bicker amongst themselves about their options and their fate. Despite having all pledged themselves to the Inquisition, they still feel like separate factions and tension between them is palpable wherever they cross paths.

Like at meals, or the communal message board in the courtyard, or at the Herald's Rest. The mess hall/tavern is so new it still smells of sawdust, and its stock has been limited to one type of strong ale until today, when a shipment of West Hill brandy has finally arrived. The mood in the place is convivial in celebration of that, but there's still plenty of muttering, especially as the night drags on and the discontented get further into their cups.

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The smile quickly loses it's mirth, and he turns in his chair to lean on the counter. He'll chalk it up to current events and the subject.

"The Conclave?" He shrugs. "I wanted to get out of the Cirlce so much. I just happened to have a real need to ditch the Templars and the meeting to go and see the town nearby." Sam gives a huff and looks down at nothing in particular. "They probably were so mad. I can only imagine what they would have done with me if... things didn't happen."

"Is she now?"

Stannis acknowledges what she says about where she is from. It is done with a small nod of the head, but what he comments on is the fact that the young girl has not had her Harrowing. He takes a deep breath in as he looks out to see the other mages -- to get a good look at them all, and wonder how many others have not gone through theirs. His jaw tightens as he grinds his teeth.

"Will she be looked after when a demon comes to her that promises to end these present horrors?" His head gives a tilt like he is angling his ear to better hear her answer. "Will you all be vigilant while she becomes an abomination? Because this place ... " His eyes lift upward before he shakes his head. He has no faith. He has nothing to tell him of the safety of these walls anymore than anyone else. "... The world is falling apart. Those mages that have not need to have their Harrowings or prepare for them.

"They are vital if they wish to continue to live in this world. Especially if they want to live in this world." To see more young mages die -- he does not finis the thought. "Mages watching mages does nothing. Tevinter taught us that much."

[With so many sick and injured all of the healers and surgeons available were stretched thin. There were just too many, but if anything Bruce was determined to help as many as he could manage. It was what he came here to do in the first place.

Still, that doesn't mean he'll not pay attention to the other surgeons and healers. With the current spare time he has in-between his patients Bruce went around to check on the others who were helping with the sick and injured.

One of them, of course, was Eirlys.]

Are things going fine here? [He asks once he's close enough, keeping his voice soft. He hasn't talked with her much, with the elf being so reserved, but being a reserved person himself Bruce has a better idea of what to do and what not to do.]

She lifts her gaze partway through her gathering to give him a brief smirk before she finishing collecting her share and moves to stand. Now why wouldn't they count? She thinks she would be insulted to find out that a previous lover was telling others she didn't count.

"Perhaps because I did not yet throw it for you to catch," she says in the same teasing tone. But she sees no reason to withhold it from him. "I am Christine."

"It's like this," he sighs as he sits forward, "we lost several good men in the battle at Haven, and another couple from there to here from the cold and injuries that we couldn't see to properly while we were walking. Chief can take a look at you, get to know you enough to know you're trustworthy. I want to assess what you can do first."

Krem wouldn't offer if Sam in any way looked like he objected, but he was observant enough to spot that immediate excitement. "I've got all night, you let me know what you can do, and what you'd like to learn."

[ He does not have that silent of an approach -- not with his full armor as he walks up the stairs to the library. Stannis stalks about and moves out of the way of those that are cleaning, rushing up and down the steps that he just comes from.

His hand rests on the pommel of his sword as he sucks his teeth. He remains as long as he can before he lets his hand drop so that he can easily walk forward toward the one he has come to greet. Or rather, the one that he has sought out. ]

Lady Benevenuta. [ There may have been a pause. He glares at nothing in particular. ] A few words and you can return to your bookkeeping.

[ Wherever that sod had been from? 0. Zevran had only caught the tailmost end of whatever it was on the way in, which swiftly became the way out as the losing party barreled through him to get to where he was currently vomiting profusely. At least he'd been able to get away from that- though it did push him into the young, tottering woman. Which jarred his shoulder. Which forced a low oath out of him even as he spun to steady her. ]

Brasca- My apologies. Your contender is more the ass than I'd previously assumed.

( this is a surprise - a pleasant one, to be sure, but nevertheless a surprise. is this a social call? benevenuta wonders, idly, if stannis has made a social call in his life. perhaps when courting, isn't it that he was married? she tries and fails to imagine stannis baratheon courting, but little of her private amusement shows in the sunny way she smiles up at his face doing that thing that it does, open as the book upon her lap. )

Knight-Commander, ( she says, warm. ) I am all ears. What brings you to me today?

[ He remembers: shelving as tall as Skyhold itself, elegant marble-tiled balconies and oak ladders, tall windows of crystal that seemed to amplify the golden northern sun brilliant enough to read by and all hours of the day. Research assistants ready to be of service and plush alcoves and wine by the pitcher, lion-skin rugs and fountains and of course, books in their thousands, scrolls in their hundreds, fine golden-flecked parchment and quills of peacock feathers. The Tevinter Imperium had decadent taste even when it came to their libraries.

So this place -- wooden and dusty and cramped and cold -- is a bit of a downgrade.

But Dorian has been among those dedicated in the cataloguing and storing and sorting of books, which could be unkindly dismissed as an effort to get out of rougher work, but he's been as helpful and knowledgeable as anyone. It is a well deserved break, then, that has him seated in an armchair nearest the cleanest window, feet up, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he gathers mental fortitude against the dust in the air and the urge to sneeze, forever, constantly.

Then there's the sound of light foot steps up the noisy staircase, and someone shouting and coughing, something about news of even more books. There is mainly a light groan from Dorian's corner.

Give him a second. ]

The questions don't surprise her at all. They're the same that were thrown at them at the previous conclave before this disastrous last one.

"I do not believe that," she says, voice steady. She refuses to raise her voice or to be anything but calm. He just needs a reason, she tells herself. "I believe the world is falling apart, yes, but I also believe that we mages are far less likely to be scared and made desperate if we no longer have Templars making us that way. The Harrowing is just one method of fear. Tranquility is another. I do not deny that the demons will try; I do not even deny that mages can and will fail. But she will not. She is being raised to be sure of herself and her abilities, not to fear them. A mage who knows they are strong has no need for more power. Only the weak and fearful."

For a moment, it appears as though she's said her piece, but then, quieter, "I do not look to Tevinter for guidance. Nor do they." Meaning the other mages here, at least on the whole. A few are proud, even more so that she is, and were only too happy to crow about their freedom while in Redcliffe. But she knows of many more who were upset about being indentured to a Tevinter magister. She was one of them. She had even contemplated striking out on her own, dangerous though it was, before she would live in Tevinter. She doesn't believe it to be a mage sanctuary, just a place with several different kinds of slavery.

"With those that are here first and foremost."

Stannis lets out a small sigh. He cannot ask anyone to join their Order when those rebel Templar that are presently here seem to not yet fully remember who they are. "The mages stand on one side and the Templar at another. That is not the way of things. Templar are their guardians whether they like it or not."

It is mostly "or not," but when does he care about what people like of him? He glowers at nothing in particular, but he turns his back toward Sauveterre. The man comes to want to have a quiet time with him; to be as friends, but that is not how he has ever really been. Stern and cold. There is no softness left to him these days. "I will speak to Commander Cullen about it."

A subtle arching of a brow, but Krem kept the immediate innuendo to himself. He was better at keeping those particular thoughts to himself than most. "Aside from the clearing out of the cobwebs, leaves, mummified creatures and broken stone? A lot of things are going to have to be propped up before they cave inward on us. Paddock's gotta be partially rebuilt. Rooms'll need to be arranged to keep children out of the cold. Luckily more of them can fit in a space than the adults can. Barracks for the Templars far away from the rebel mages, too. Rather not have some errant magic causing a small war in the courtyard."

That wasn't all that he could think of, just the most immediate concerns. He lifted his bottle slightly in return. "I'm assuming you have ideas, yourself."

To thank you for leading me to Skyhold.

[ His eyebrows rise in something akin to surprise, but to what he doesn't say. Perhaps, how painless it is to be willing to say as much. ]

It would be beneath my station if I did not offer such in some manner. [ As he speaks, his face twists, like he has issue with chewing on these words. It is more like they are not common for him to have to say. ]

[Bruce isn't exactly sure where the Templar is going with this - asking him about his intentions? Being certain about it? What was with the scrutiny? He wonders if his paranoia was correct and this Templar does know that he's a mage--or worse...]

I help whoever asks for it. [A pause.] And for those who don't as well, but still need it.

[He keeps his voice controlled, even, calm. There's no reason to try and do anything when he isn't sure of his own suspicions. He'd rather not give anything away, if possible.]

He tucks the canvas around the top of the crate, thinking maybe that will keep everything in this time, and rises as well, taking the whole thing up with him.

"Thank you for helping me, Christine. I'm Salvatore. Sal's alright."

"Templars making you that way?" His head gives another tilt. "There are Templars that have forgotten their station and their duty, but what they have always been is mages' guardians." He takes a step forward, then, because it seems she does not understand what the Harrowing's purpose is, what the Rite of Tranquility is. "Then she should have no trouble with carrying out her Harrowing if she is all that you say that she is."

Mages who think that they know better; mages that wish for something beyond. "You put her life at danger and call it her right and her strength to be such. You think that the Harrowing is something that we Templar do to you mages to bully you?" He clicks his tongue. "Did you learn nothing when you went through your own? Or are Orlesians just as worthless as when it comes to explaining anything to their mages as they are at everything else?"

Nonsense, nonsense. "Obviously so if you spout the same foolishness as every other rebel mage wandering around the Hinterlands." A beat. "It is good that you do not look to Tevinter, but only look at the poor way that your Circle was run. I will not allow you to sacrifice the lives of these mages to prove your point."

Well that wasn't intimidating or anything. Sam had just come in to apologize and talk, maybe get to know the Charger a bit more. He wasn't expecting an interview. Krem had all night? Oh good, he had a completely free evening, too.

"You're very proficient." Sam suddenly wishes he had the forethought of getting a mug of water or something. Mainly water. Something else might kill him.

"Well I'm working with the blacksmiths right now. I grew up working the forge, and I'm starting on homing the skill a bit better now. I can't make you weapons or armor, but I know decently well how to fix them."

"You are welcome, Sal. Are you sure you don't need anymore help? I am free right now." And truthfully, she could use a distraction from all the recent sorrows with the loss at Haven. As much as she commits herself to helping the injured, even she has to step away from time to time in order to clear her head.

Good.

[ He breathes in the night air. ] You will find yourself very busy, surgeon. The people here are not as ruined as I thought that they were, but they will be in need. Even men like you, [ Those that are older and not as foolish as the young. ] do not fully understand what it means to be here. What it means to have to wade through what will be a bloody affair.

[ Something he has been saying for weeks, really. Because no fight against what they have to fight against is not. ] Your spirit will balk under the pressure of what is coming, too, so while your intentions are noble... be aware of how heavy the burden will get.

For once, the innuendo wasn't exactly intended. He will kick himself for it later- a perfect opportunity for flirtation passed by for- what? Information? Work? What has become of him?

"And the liklihood of getting the bulk of this done before winter?" More came in to help every day, certainly, but those looking for shelter and those willing to work were quite different camps.

[ It is not an easy task for him to do, but he does as is his duty.

He walks to where he knows that Cullen will be in the late night, because this is not a discussion to have out in the open, to have anywhere but perhaps rumors. Stannis still wears his knight-commander armor regardless of how it seems to worry people. The name of the Templars have been tarnished, but he will not let the shame of others define him.

All he can grant is courtesy to announce his presence before he comes to begin his inquiries and requests. Like he is speaking to some Grand Cleric. His head shakes as it is best not to think in those terms. Two soldiers discussing matters is better. The former will have him be ready for a fight, but he is uncertain if he should not be prepared. ]

( that steadying hand is very necessary; benevenuta can hold her liquor, that's obvious, but she has certainly been more graceful in her life than she is in this very moment, swaying dangerously. her determination to stay upright is evident in the way her hands fling out to balance herself, and the owlish way she looks up at him. )

It is, ( with great dignity, ) his mistake.

Christine stays in place, though her heart practically leaps into her throat at him taking even one step closer to her. She exhales slowly through her nose, reminding herself that she is strong, and one Templar will not crumble her resolve.

"It seems you had made up your mind before I even spoke," she replies. "But you have no authority over us. It will be up to whoever is the new Divine to decide our place in the world, not you and yours. We are free, and we look after our own. Your words do not sway me, as mine do not to you. The Inquisition is harboring both your people and mine, and they have larger matters to concern themselves with than Harrowings."

Now that she has made the matter clear, she adds, "If there is nothing else, I ask that you leave us to eat in peace."

( it is a social call?

well, that is marvelous. )

You are most welcome, ( immediately, not setting the book she's using to record the inventory aside or closing it but laying her hands flat against it as she settles to speak with him rather than simply glance up from her work. they are having a conversation; it is courteous to give him her full attention. ) How have you found it?

( she has some guesses. she's interested to hear it in his own words. )

"This isn't about authority, girl." He all but hisses. His eyes give a roll at the very idea of a new Divine. "The Chantry is too busy to chase its tail to do anything more than be a nuisance. This isn't about freedom, either. This is about what is right and what is just. It is about what is safe for your own. And you would have your own prejudice and stupidity ensure the death and corruption of mages because you think that makes you free. You think that makes you smarter than us."

There was, indeed, more. "So, will you be the one to kill them? Will you tell that girl that you're going to kill her if she ever changes? Because that is what will happen. Let her know. Tell her that you're watching her, but do not worry. If she ever changes, you will set her on fire like Andraste would want."

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Page 12 of 77

Skyhold

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fellow healer people unite /o/

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wildcard - approach

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