Skyhold

[faderifting]

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.

Comments

[samahl]

He chuckles a bit. "Oh, you're right. I can't see them at all. Who is this invisible person I'm speaking with? Where did you go?" He makes a show of looking around without having to dislodge her.

[salvatore_underfoot]

Sal glances at the tattered dummy and shrugs. "You're no good if your skills go slack. We all try and work in a bit of time for ourselves." Some more than others. Turns out Sal was poorly skilled in many things, and the drudgery of clearing and cleaning and moving things from one place to another grated on him after so many hours that he would simply wander off for a change of scenery.

He's come face-to-face with more than a couple of Orlesians by now - and people from so many other places too - that the question of where are you from is almost unneeded. His own accent is thickly Nevarran. "Might get better once we put more of the castle together. We can put one big wall right down the middle." He arches his arm, indicating about where that wall could go. "You and yours can stay over here, we mages can stay over there. That might help."

[samahl]

Cyril looked a little embarrassed at that. "Yes. More than once, honestly. My mother was very interested in human literature. I got that interest from her. I could only secure a book here and there, given my Clan's limited interaction with humans. I know technically it was written by a dwarf and isn't human literature in that sense, but it is very popular with them."

There was a slight pause, as he considered how to word the next bit. "It's rare for there to be an elf so featured in a story like that. Especially one who came from a Dalish clan and is spoken about in a kind way."

[serannas]

"Well, that's a nice coincidence!" Ellana likes having that in common with a person so different from herself. Korrin must be well traveled, while Ellana has only moved here and there with her clan, giving human settlements a wide berth. Or at least that's been the case until now.

"I'm pretty good with barriers, so if I'm doing my job right, no one will need healing."

[mythalenaste]

"Dread Wolf take you," Pel answers unseriously. "One of the clan's best hunters and I can't say it surprises me you can't find an invisible woman when she's leaning against you."

[mythalenaste]

What's your name?

[el_tybs]

Sam stares, watching intently at the design Cyril is tracing over his face, trying not to lose the design among the lines on Cyril's own face. He wrinkles his nose lightly with a bit of a nod as he tries to ingrain it in his mind. Least he knew it was only over one eye. That would make it easier.

For a moment Sam catches Cyril's eye and he tries his best to simply not look away and just smiles.

"Glaring," he repeats, "alright. Is that a permanent feature or just something he does?"

[samahl]

"It's evidence that I've really only been riding Merrick's success this whole time," he replied, grinning at her. "I'm sorry to finally come clean after all of this time."

[samahl]

"Just something he does," Cyril explains. "Once he trusts someone, he has other expressions. It just takes a while to find them."

[mythalenaste]

"I think if a great hulking brute sat on me, I'd already be in trouble." But she takes the seat with a faint smile. "Ma serannas. You're very kind."

[mythalenaste]

Nonetheless. [She approaches at last. Healers are usually okay.] How do you find the book?

[el_tybs]

"Ah." Well Clan Ashara sounded like they would be a blast to meet. "So there's only four of you then?"

[samahl]

"There are six, myself included, though Gavin left before the rest of us. He was at Haven and came to Skyhold with the rest of you."

[gatheringstorm]

That makes her chuckle. Yep, he's still as she remembers him, not that it's been very long since that last time. Korrin leads the way, past the tents holding refugees and wounded. "I suppose you can look at it that way. I'm not saying it's noting, but I suppose I am getting restless. This is the longest I've been somewhere that didn't involve the typical mercenary jobs. That will change soon enough, though."

Hence one more reason why she isn't going anywhere without her staff, even in Skyhold. Haven's still too fresh in her mind and she can't relax anywhere, even in a place far more secure than that isolated town. "So how is it out there? Where did you go this time?"

[equanimiti]

A scoff escapes Sauveterre at mention of walls. Are all the mages here so distrustful of the Order thanks to Meredith's exploits? It certainly seems that way and this is why the Knight-Commander frowns.

"Is that some manner of jest?" He asks. "Jest or not, the only walls that shall be built are the ones that been broken. Segregation is not the key to our survival." Sauveterre falls silent for a moment as he eyes the mage with a more critical gaze. Perhaps introductions will break the ice a bit. They usually do in more relaxed occasions.

"Knight-Commander Alayre Sauveterre of Pharos." He nods his head in greetings.

[gatheringstorm]

"Barriers are a life-saver, I'm just not as good at them as those...hm. Knight-Enchanters? I think that's the right term. They're indestructible." Or at least it seems that way, and Korrin can't help but shake her head in admiration. "Maybe I'll go that route, but we'll see. It's nice to have options."

[gatheringstorm]

[That mollifies Korrin somewhat, and she nods.]

It changes everything, or at least the right training does. Raw power is flashy, but not nearly as useful as power combined with the will to control it properly. And that comes from within, not someone else.

I understand that it'll take time to come around to it, but I'll try to be an example of that. Not just to you, but everyone else here. One more reason to stay put.

[The revenge part is still there, of course, but other reason to tie her fate to the Inquisition keep emerging. She's not fighting it.]

How long ago did you leave? A few years?

[mythalenaste]

"Since we've already left the clan, I expect I'm not the one you'll want to apologize to. Eventually. What is it you plan to do for the Inquisition, again?"

[salvatore_underfoot]

"I apologize for the assumption then. I had never heard an Orlesian accent before leaving the Circle in Nevarra." He skirts around the crumbling wall and enters the little camp that is going up. "The what? Oh. Yes. That was yours? You know, Perendale is very Orlesian still. Lions."

[samahl]

"Entertain the troops?" Cyril suggests, though of course that's not very honest. He wants to do whatever he can for the Inquisition.

[el_tybs]

Sam's eyes widen at that. "Gavin?" The name definitely rings a bell.

[mythalenaste]

"Mm!" Pel hastily swallows some wine and raises her finger. "Did you see the entertainer on the cart? The elf with the songs and the lute and a tattoo on his cheek? Not vallaslin, just a tattoo."

[samahl]

"Yes. Do you know him?" That makes Cyril seem interested. He's curious if there are any good stories about Gavin.

[samahl]

His smile widens at that description. "Yes. I've seen quite a bit of him." That means exactly what he implies it to mean. "He's Zevran Arainai."

[mythalenaste]

"You--ugh." She deflates somewhat. "Can't you leave one for me? Just one?"