faderift | Skyhold

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.

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There is a long moment of silence with Sam just looking at Cyril. He doesn't know how he feels about that. "... because they don't want to?" That seems to be the better? of the possible possibilities.

"Some Clans ask that you do not return if you leave, it's true. Ashara wouldn't though," he says thoughtfully. "The Clan raised me after my parents died. It raised a lot of us. We are their children. It's less to do with not being welcomed back as it is that life takes you odd places and many of them limit the possibility of going back home."

Well that sounded vague and ominous. "Hm." Looking out at the light coming out of the tavern windows Sam sighs again. "Would your clanmates go with you if you decided to travel then?"

"Merrick might. Pel would want to keep updated. Gavin has always wandered on his own..." He trails off for a moment. "What about you? Do you have anyone?"

"Gavin?" Sam raises a brow at that. "Gavin is part of your clan too?" He's already run into him. Literally.

At hearing about his own future plans Sam rubs his face. "My father and my aunt. Though I don't know how well they are doing. I had no contact with them during the Circle, which was almost 11 years. And now I'm here. I should probably reach out and see if..." It's something he thinks about, but honestly afraid to find out.

Cyril reaches out and pats his leg. "You should," he says after a moment. "At least so you aren't wondering 'what if' for the rest of your life."

"And yes. Gavin is one of ours."

Another sigh. "Probably. Guess I just got used to thinking 'they're ok' while I was gone that I don't want anything to change that." He would have to do it sooner then later.

The hand on his leg is comforting with the current thought, but it draws him back, changing it to the other subject. "Gavin didn't come in with the rest of the group though?" He doesn't remember Cyril mentioning him along with the others.

"He didn't. He was at Haven."

Sam blinks. He did know that. "He told me as such. I'm messing up what I mean here. How come he was at Haven rather then being with the rest of you?" Did that make sense?

"Oh..." He thinks for a moment of how to explain it. "Gavin used to wander quite a bit. It's surprising how he's stayed with the Inquisition more than anything."

Well he supposed that made sense. "There's a lot to keep busy with. We're all just resettling, but I'm sure there will be missions and such opening up soon."

"Of course. In the mean time, at least we have excellent company."

"Yeah nothing like tossing in a bunch of mages and templars together, and some other various groups in there." Sam chuckles, turning his gaze back to Cyril. He's feeling much better now, getting to talk to Cyril and just clearing his head in the night air. "Or were you talking about excellent company as in friends? Heh."

He chuckles just a bit. "Friends, yes," he replies. "Though that first part does make me a little concerned. Do you think anything will happen?"

He was trying to joke about it, but it was a serious subject. One that always gave him a headache. "Unless someone does something about it... probably."

"Are you worried?" he asks, focusing completely on Sam now. Sam is a mage, after all.

"Of course I am. There are a number of things that could happen... I'd rather not have Skyhold turn into another battleground." Both sides were something to be worried about.

"I meant for your personal safety," Cyril says. He nudges Sam gently.

He tries to smile at that, but it doesn't quite make it. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. But I'm also worried about everyone else's safety as well."

"Is there anything that we non-mage but supporters can do?"

"Heh. I have a hard enough time trying to figure out what I can do, I don't think I can give you an better advice. Just don't think yourself defenseless because you can't use magic?" He does smile at that.

"Oh, I don't think that," Cyril says with a grin. He seems very confident about his ability to fight. "This isn't about me being defenseless, it's about mages not being given a fair shot."

A pause. "There are too many people who would see you locked up." This isn't really directed to Sam, so much as just said to the night air.

"Well unfortunately all that comes in a neat package when you're a mage." He pauses as well, turning his head away for a moment to think. "Well I guess that's the popular idea that us 'shems' have come up with and forced on others I suppose."

After a moment, Cyril moves his hand to offer it to Sam. "If you want freedom, I'll help protect it."

For a moment Sam just looks at the offered hand. Freedom, huh? He's honestly not sure how that will even happen with how the world as it was now. But- it is a nice thought. Raising a brow at Cyril he drops his own into the other man's hand, giving a tentative smile. "Likewise, Cyril. If you need something, let me know."

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