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

[dalishious]

Now, that's a strange accent. He hasn't ever heard one like it before, so Zevran at least gets a slight look of surprise before Merrick turns away from him again.

"Ask it," he replies rather churlishly.

The barkeep doesn't seem the slightest bit fazed by the impromptu bar-stabbing; he brings Merrick his drink with amusement in his eyes. Dwarves are strange, Merrick thinks as he accepts the liquor and tosses it back.

[dalishious]

"Not enough to put up with you, apparently," he replies. Truthfully, he doesn't want to imbibe too much tonight. This is still unfamiliar territory, swarming with strangers from all over Thedas, everything an unknown element.

It frays his nerves, so he's seeking to calm them the only way he knows how.

[ombranera]

"Talking to a bar is only slightly more insane than stabbing one, I should think." Carefully, carefully light. There is a line, after all, between jest and insult and it is not one he means to tread over tonight. Not when there are so many in the tavern that would make a small disagreement a little less small and a good deal more violent.

[dalishious]

As always, the rush of calm that Pel brings is palpable, and Merrick gladly abandons the tavern to join her. He takes in a big breath of night air once they're outside, letting it fill his lungs.

He misses the woods already.

"You've got dust in your hair," he says to Pel, reaching to rub some of it out of the end of her braid.

[samahl]

"I'm wounded, da'mi," he says in a very low voice, just between the two of them. He also doesn't sound as if he's actually that hurt. Instead, he was smiling.

"I could always go and find something pretty to distract me."

[salvatore_underfoot]

"Reform." Things may not have been so bad for him, but he certainly never heard a Templar speak this way, much less a Knight-Commander. Even in his country, where mages had more power to throw around, he never saw a Templar punished for overstepping.

He listens, drawn in by Sauveterre's impassioned speech. "Don't apologize. You've made me curious." He squints up at the man's face, arms crossing loosely across his chest. He may never be able to completely let his defenses down around a Templar, but he does try to appear relaxed. "Have you ever reformed a bad one, you know, before everything went to shit? Or was this a new idea you had only after you lost control of everything?"

[dalishious]

"It worked," Merrick replies dismissively, still not looking Zevran in the eye. He is wondering a little bit about the sanity thing; most other people would have taken his cues and left him alone by now.

People are reacting to what he'd done, though, he realizes; some stirring, some reaching for their own weapons as if itching to draw them. Honestly, he hopes someone does.

[el_tybs]

Sam snorts at that and makes a face. "Well think I hit some of the major ones. And the Inquisition keeps bringing new surprises with it. I'm afraid to think of anything more extreme."

[samahl]

"Afraid that it might happen?" he asks, tilting his head a bit to the side. "But that seems like something worthwhile doesn't it?"

[ombranera]

"It drew undue attention." Something every city elf knows is foolish and most Dalish seem to not understand. There's a delicate balance at stake in this place, one he would not see upset. Is it unfortunate that they were not treated as equal? Of course. Stabbing furniture wasn't going to change anything.

Stabbing the right people might but- not at the moment.

"Were I you, I would sheathe my blade, finish my drink, and leave before things become unpleasant." Did that sound like a threat? It might. It's more a warning to all in the immediate area- not that it seems to dissuade many. Fantastic. Not here a week and he may be in a bar brawl.

[equanimiti]

No mage shall ever feel safe among a Templar as things are now. This is the bitter truth of it all. This is the way of things for now. The time shall come when mage and Templar alike are no longer at odds. Sauveterre just hopes to see such a dream come to be. As long as he stays steadfast in his idealistic beliefs, maybe this dream shall be real. Until then, he must endure.

"In times past as Knight-Captain, I've had my hand forced by those who use our oath as a means to harm our charges. A full month of confinement within our dungeons for deliberately breaking the arm of a mere apprentice, a child at that. My Commander at the time didn't agree with my harshness but the First Enchanter was grateful." He says while reminiscing about the past.

"But then war came and the mages, the ones we're told to protect, betrayed us. That is when I truly realized the need for reform."

[el_tybs]

"Honestly? Yes." He's smiling but also giving Cyril an odd look. "The Conclave blowing up. A blighted Magister? WITH a pet dragon. There's been giant bears. Demons pouring out of rifts... I'd rather see some normalcy about now."

[dalishious]

While Merrick would love a good bar brawl, he doesn't wanted to be banned from the tavern on his first day. Still, that doesn't stop him from being stubborn. He tugs his dagger free and rolls it around his hand, idly twirling it with his fingers.

"And what'll you do if I don't? Sing about it?"

[ombranera]

Well that- that rudeness had the flat of his palm stilling the strings of his lute entirely- and some small manner of silence, stillness, expectation of what might follow to drop in it's stead. The casual smile Zevran's had painted on drops all pretense of friendliness and settles into something sharper. Predatory. "What would I do?"

The nights he has spent here his name and face have been bandied about for those closest to know, at least in vague terms, who and more importantly what he is. Perhaps that is why those that shuffled so closely before now seem to be easing away. Giving Zevran room to retaliate if he so chose.

"Drag you out by the ear myself and give you the fight you are so obviously spoiling for." Not the wisest thing to promise when he has a stiff shoulder and healing ribs- but he has done more dangerous things in worse condition. Not for some time, but it would not be anything new. Better that it is a one on one incident far from the remaining patrons that can be settled quickly and cleanly before anyone gets any ideas.

[issala]

[The scout clothing was kind of weird and the cowl was odd on his head thanks to the nubbly horns, but the young qunari was proud. It was finer than anything he'd ever worn before, whole and clean and actually fitting him.

They wouldn't exactly let him out on any kind of missions yet, having no training, but that didn't mean he wasn't 'scouting' the entire damn fortress, ending up in the oddest places while climbing ramparts, opening doors into different rooms and even finding his way into the library, curiously watching the Tranquil work.

That, and the frequent visits to the kitchen. In fact, so frequent that the kitchen maids were starting to chase him off as soon as he stuck his head in. That was fine, one of them usually snuck him something to eat later, anyway. Rail-thin as he was, having access to food was a dream come true.

Of course, then there was the people. That he was less used to, social skills lacking heavily. Every time he ran into someone or opened a door to rooms occupied, all he did was curse and back off without apologizing.

Sorry about that.]

[dalishious]

Even if Merrick knew that it was Zevran Aranai he was talking to, he still wouldn't have hesitated for an instant. He's much too stubborn, prideful and self-destructive for that. So he finishes his drink, drops coin on the table and stands, showing no semblance of fear or regret.

"No need to drag me," is his affirmative reply.

[dalishious]

"Is that what you're calling it now?" Merrick remarks, rolling his eyes.

[ombranera]

"Keep this behind the bar, if you would." Zevran sets his lute down and, as requested, the barkeep tucks it behind for safe keeping. While he had his daggers he tends to not wear his swords around the keep- there was no need and it makes some of the people uncomfortable. Uncomfortable people do foolish, fearful things that Zevran is all too happy to avoid.

He stands silently, fingers flicking in the open space provided by the other guests to the door. There is a clear path. "After you."

[arlathvhen]

The harvest was plentiful this year, and the trees are ripe with elves, Korrin. Just watch your head.

Beleth looks quite startled to find a qunari so close to her when she lands, and takes a few steps back, hands going up in the air. Then it registers that she knows this person, and she relaxes enough to look rather embarrassed. "Ah--yeah, that's me. And you're Korrin?"

After a moment, she gives a sheepish laugh, turning to look from where she had appeared to drop down on the unsuspecting woman. "Sorry about that, I was trying to fix some of the tiles on the roof. It's really leaky when it rains. And...it's easier to jump than try to climb down."

[arlathvhen]

Beleth hadn't expected anyone to be beneath her when she dropped down, but Zevran's action startled her enough to react in turn--She had her bow out before she even realized it. Luckily, bows take enough time to set up that she was able to process that Zevran was not about to stick that dagger in her before she could even get an arrow. For a few short breaths, she just stood there with her bow in her hand, staring in alarm at the other elf. After she got tired of feeling like a massive tool, she slowly stuck her bow on her back, and raised her hands up.

"Sorry, um. I was just working on..." Watching some hot headed idiot or another picking a fight and wondering if she was going to see a scrap right in the middle of the courtyard. "...cleaning..." Slowly, she looked up at where she'd fallen from. "...the tree?" Maybe that was a thing that was done in cities? Maybe humans liked having really clean trees?

"And, uh. I didn't see you. Sorry..." He'd moved fast with that dagger. Faster than Merrick, even. She was glad that he'd caught himself before she'd ended up with that dagger embedded in some vital organ.

[amygdalae]

[Never really the most social of people, Bruce always much preferred the company of silence and solitude whenever he could afford it. As much as he did like his work of caring the sick and injured, there were times when he simply needed some time for himself.

This was pretty much one of those times, which is why Bruce had taken to one of the ramparts in order for the peace and solitude he so craved. It was easier to concentrate up here, and perhaps now he could finish the book he had borrowed from the library--

A sudden thump broke Bruce out from his thoughts, the sound soft but also loud against the quiet of the general vicinity. He looked up to see--a qunari? There were quite a number here, yes, but this particular one was quite young, from what he could tell.]

...hello? [He starts hesitantly, feeling a bit foolish after he had spoken. That wasn't exactly the best way to start things off, he knew.]

[issala]

...shit.

[He should probably apologize, but there was something stubborn in his spine, a long-time dislike for humans that kept nagging him even after he came here. So instead he glares, as if that is in any way helpful to the situation.]

What? I'm checking the... stonework. And stuff.

[He crosses his arms, trying to look like he had any idea what he was doing - but that made him lose his balance and he comes tumbling down in front of the poor healer.]

[liberalum]

Welcome to my world, [ he invites, remaining in his lean with only a glance her way, a twitch of a friendly smirk. ] We're all clever, here.

[ He returns his gaze to the little ocean of soldierly camaraderie below, hulking men and equally hulking women. There's a rift opened up near Redcliffe and so, bets are on, both as to what demons they'll find crawling out of the earth and who will kill what.

Dorian extends an index finger past his glass. ]

The little one. Two-blade wielding. I've seen her in the training grounds. If they'd have my money, I'd put it on her to make the first kill. There's always a demon skulking around the periphery that these other brutes hardly ever notice. What say you?

[slipshot]

[It was his own fault.

Sure, he was banged up really bad - bruised everywhere, and he was starting to suspect a rib might be broken - but it was his own fault. He'd plummeted nearly three stories, and the only reason he was still alive was because there happened to be a Qunari available as a cushion.

It isn't the first time he's ended up having to sheepishly find the healers. He was accident prone, so he was something of a regular. But that didn't mean he didn't feel embarrassed whenever he did so.

He'd be fine, but the ache in his sides as he walked had him dreaming about elfroot. Hence why he ended up here now, shuffling in to give a little wave and a sheepish smile to Bruce as he approached.]

Ah - hey. Please tell me that we have something in the way of healing potions left.

[slipshot]

"I was hoping to get them fully out of the way," Gavin admitted, watching the Commander. He was supremely thankful that Cullen seemed to agree with him - to even take the matter seriously. He hadn't expected it, and it was - well, endearing.

"We have so much traffic on the ramparts, I was worried that moving them up there would cause ah - someone to take interest. And mischief." Not that he didn't like a prank or two himself, but there were a lot of people in this castle these days, and Gavin couldn't exactly sit around and babysit.