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

[el_tybs]

"Well considering I don't know what else to call it, I'll just keep going with that." At this point Sam vaguely has an idea, but doesn't really dwell on it.

"What are you making this time?" He nods his head towards the new carving.

[dalishious]

Merrick doesn't let him change the subject, rolling his eyes.

"You're a bipedal male with a pulse," he drawls. "I really, really doubt he just talked to you."

[el_tybs]

Maybe going along that path had not been the smartest idea. Good job, Sam, you set your own trap and walked right into it.

He's silent for a long while, contemplating on what he should say. Cyril had specifically told him that if Merrick knew then he'd be wary, but also to not lie about it. Course just not saying anything would probably be just as bad.

"Oh. Well glad you aren't shocked then."

[dalishious]

He huffs out another laugh then, taking a break from carving to sand some of the edges down.

"If I was shocked every single time I found out my brother slept with someone, I'd have died from heart failure a long time ago."

[el_tybs]

Well he knew Cyril had previous experience. Getting an idea of how much experience was a different thing. Just a little weird, considering he was still coming to terms after meeting up with the silver haired Elf again.

At least Merrick was finding this amusing.

"... now are you going to tell me what you're carving?" Because continuing to talk about sleeping with Cyril with Merrick sounds oh so fun. It's sarcasm.