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

[hugeinorlais]

Right. Dalish. She had probably not been hired as a Reader before.

"Just the one side is a page, but it'll feel like two because you have to fight through my handwriting." Varric explained as he sat back. His handwriting, at least what was on the letter on the table, seemed neat and formal enough. It was a shame that most of his personal, non-threat-related writing was a little less legible, but she could probably handle it. "And it's by every page you read. Since you're doing content too it's not like you can skip a few just because you didn't see any words I may have misspelled.

"Which would actually be a pretty good argument for ten silvers a page, come to think of it. If my Editor gives you shit, use that."

[mythalenaste]

Pel sets the paper against the table and writes down her name and clan.

"So I'll be paid by your editor, not by you?" That makes him more likely to be giving her an accurate sum.

[hugeinorlais]

"Yes and no," Varric said and waved his hand a bit. "She pays you the actual coin, and it's her coin up front, but it ultimately comes out of what I get paid if a book succeeds. It's complicated, like a really long, expensive bet, but she's the one who handles all the detail work."

Today was a strange day. When he sat down this morning he never thought he'd be teaching a Dalish elf all about how book sales went or explaining Reader fees. Then again, he also hadn't expected to be hiring her to read his next novels, either, but sometimes weird stuff just happened. She couldn't be worse than the guy he had already; she already seemed a far cry sharper than he was.

"She can courier it to you or send papers to the nearest treasury, that part gets a little strange when you're out in the middle of nowhere, but she's the best at what she does. I wouldn't work with her if she wasn't."

[mythalenaste]

Pel shakes her head.

"So long as it comes, I'm not worried about logistics. Sort of nice, letting someone else worry about that. So you want to pay me to sit down and read, basically. And tell you what's wrong with it."

Varric Tethras wants her to do that. She can help decide Varric Tethras' stories. She can make good books better. While sitting down and enjoying herself. This is actually a dream job. Her heartbeat is picking up as she thinks about it. How nice will it be, having an excuse to relax without feeling guilty about work that needs to be done?

[hugeinorlais]

"Yeah, that's about the size of it," Varric replied and leaned back in his (somewhat rickety) chair. He'd basically assaulted her with this job offer, though, and much as he'd like her to accept, it wasn't mandatory. He quirked an eyebrow at her and offered up his most charming smile.

"So, you interested?"

[mythalenaste]

"I am interested." She can't sound too eager yet, since she still needs to ask Krem if ten silvers is a lot. "Why don't I answer you tonight at the tavern, over a drink?"

[hugeinorlais]

"It's a date."

Varric nods and holds out his hand because, casual (bordering on flip) as he's being about this, this is still a business deal and shaking hands is sort of traditional. Whether she accepted the job or not, he respected her cunning enough to treat her like every other person who worked for him or tried to take his money.

There was a lot of crossover between those two groups, so a standard of etiquette was important.

[mythalenaste]

The all-important handshake, that binding agreement. She understands the significance from her clan's dealings with surface dwarf merchants. She reaches out and gives his hand a firm shake. She has always tried to have a good strong handshake to counter her delicate appearance.