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

[vir_tasallan]

The way Varric continued describing this Seeker had her concern flaring up even more. She wasn't helpless by any means, and Varric was very skilled with his beloved Bianca. But anyone who threatened her friends like that (and Bianca) would have a very stern dislike from her. She was biased and she didn't much care to be unbiased. Varric had taken her in when her own pushed her out.

Needless to say, it left an impression.

Even she didn't know her frown could furrow so deeply.

"This woman sounds dreadful. Fen'Harel ma halam," the last part is muttered, not directed at Varric himself.

"Also, I'm not reading to be polite. But I must admit I probably encouraged a few to read them. They're easy to convince so long as it's not written by humans most of the time." so her scowl had disappeared, but she was still put off by mention of this Seeker's behavior. She'd ruminate on it quietly once she was alone.

[hugeinorlais]

"Well, at least I've got that going for me," Varric said smoothly. Unfortunately, the change in topic didn't seem to make Daisy perk up much. Sure, she wasn't scowling anymore, and that was an improvement, but Varric knew enough elven to know that she'd muttered something very unflattering under her breath.

"Don't worry about the Seeker, she's not so bad." For a given value of bad, of course. Varric lifted his mug and, as if he'd just realized he was the only one drinking, waved a hand toward the barkeep. Cabot tolerated him, but only just, and grudgingly brought another mug over for the elf across from him.

"I'm glad to hear you're making some friends here, and these Dalish seem nice enough. Not one of them called me a--what's the word? Durgling? Durglen?"

[vir_tasallan]

Brandy was one of those things that she found she enjoyed. Especially the one that had come in recently, as it was sweet but not the kind of sweet where it had too much flavor added. She brightened significantly and took the drink, thanking the barkeep and feeling a slight twinge of awkward when he nodded grimly. But Varric was here and to be truthful it was the best thing about this Inquisition. She refused to be in poor spirits.

"Considering she stabs things as a hobby I think she's bad enough," she spoke into her cup as she lifted it to her face, then drank it-- cautiously. But it was fine and didn't scald. "But thank you for the drink. It's been so long since I've been in a pub with friends-- or in a pub. Really." She held the mug in both her hands, resting it on the table top. "No one had better call you that, anyway. That's the thing about this organization, isn't it?" her smile turned a little inward, as if she were confessing a long-held secret. "That we're all in this together. Elves, dwarves, humans-- even the qunari. They're not all sour-faced bad news...

"I like it. It's like a new clan, you know? Except with history and things to work out. And I've missed you terribly, you've no idea. It's hard work not having you around."