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

[amygdalae]

[Bruce manages a small snort, knowing full well than to trust peddlers at the side of the road for things like these. Medicinal things were always harder to make than it seemed - a fact Bruce knows all too well from personal experience.]

The one I'll be putting on will be more effective. [He remarks, continuing with his task of getting the old stitches out. He manages to to the last few ones before Zevran then starts to speak--and Bruce's Antivian isn't exactly the greatest, but its enough for him to get the gist of what he's saying.

He rather wishes he hadn't understood that.

To Bruce's credit, he only really pauses for half a second, blinking once, and then going on as if he hadn't heard anything at all. He gets the last of the stitches and then pulls away (pointedly removing his hand in the process). The remains of the stitches goes with the used bandages, and after taking a moment to wipe down his hands he gets a bottle and brings it over to Zevran.]

Drink this; it'll ease the pain while I do your stitches.

[ombranera]

[ Alas, he is now bereft of that small comfort. He thinks nothing of it, the man is working and he is more than a little invested in not moving when he shouldn't or outwardly showing any pain. The draught he takes with good humor, lifting it in a toast to Bruce. ]

Per le mani costanti e gli occhi belli.

[ He drinks- it is no Antivan brandy but if it will help with the pain? He will take as much as recommended. ]

My thanks.

[amygdalae]

Just stay still until I'm done and it will be thanks enough.

[Not that he hasn't already been staying still, but, you know. Just so he remembers not to until he's finished.

Bruce goes to prepare what he needs to do the stitching while Zevran drinks down the potion - just a little something Bruce had made himself to dull the nerves for a while so that the pain can't be felt as intensely. (It also makes a decent sleeping draught when taken in more potent doses).

He returns quickly enough, needle and thread at the ready, taking the emptied bottle from Zevran and placing it aside.] I'm going to start now. The pain should be dulled, but try not to move as much as possible.

[With that said Bruce takes a moment to ensure that Zevran is alright, and then begins stitching up the wound.]

[ombranera]

I shall be as still as a corpse- save for the breathing and the blinking.

[ That much he cannot help- well he could but not for as long as he used to. Playing dead is a valuable tactic for assassins- it's been some time since he needed to do that last.

As with all properly made potent potions, Zevran finds himself in a great deal less pain that he had coming in- and manages to relax even further. Without moving. For he is not to move. ]

Now that is a well made potion. You would not happen to sell these, would you? Much as I would like to not need them...trouble happens.

[amygdalae]

No, I don't.

[...well, unless he really needs the cash for something. Which is incredibly rare. Bruce usually tries to get by without selling things he's sure will get abused somehow.

Still, with that said...]

If you ever need it for something, let me know. I'll see what I can do.

[He says all this while working on his stitches, which is halfway done by now. Without any movement, his work is usually fairly easier.]

[ombranera]

Mmmm, fair enough I suppose.

[ A responsible healer! How rare a thing. Zevran seems to have stumbled upon a unicorn, marvelous. ]

And suffer the benefit of your company a second time? I shall hold you to that.

[amygdalae]

You can always send a note to me instead.

[He replies, very dryly, and if he wasn't who he was Bruce might have tugged a bit hard on his next stitch. But he doesn't do any of that, of course, because he's a very responsible healer (tm).

Bruce finishes up with the last few stitches and ensures that it's tied well before cutting off the spare thread, then backing off to switch the items in hand.] Try to take in some deep breaths and make sure the stitches are in place. Tell me if you feel anything wrong.

[ombranera]

A compliment, Bruce, though poorly worded. It has been a long day. [ He actually finds Bruce quite considerate- certainly charming in his own unassuming way. Quiet and capable is quite attractive to Zev- well.

Capable is. Quiet is a challenge. Both in one in a handsome man? Intriguing.

As bid he takes a few deep breaths, twisting oh so slightly to feel how much give the stitches permit. Not much seems to be the answer.]

I will not be playing contortionist until these are healed, I suppose. [ Another turn in the other direction, that is a bit better. Easier. ] To the best of my knowledge? All seems as it should.

[amygdalae]

Try not to ruin the stitches as much as possible. Redoing them is never pleasant.

[But he does seem sensible enough, so Bruce will leave the warning at that. He moves to take a container holding some poultice - again, of his own making.]

This will help alleviate the burn more effectively. [He says as he takes some onto his fingers and starts to apply it on the stitches methodically.] I'll give you some later to apply on your own when you change your bandages. You'll need to do it daily. When doesn't matter, but doing it before you sleep is the best time as that your body can heal properly.

[ombranera]

No vigorous activity- I can manage that.

[ Mostly? Mostly. He will do his very best to not pop them- he'd had to sit through a second stitching once before which had all the blessings of the first and scolding on top of it.

Never again. ]

I think this may be the first poultice I've seen that doesn't smell aggressively of black tea and dog's breath. You are a man of many talents indeed.

[amygdalae]

It's just the result of trial and error.

[Many trials and errors. But Bruce appreciates the compliment for what it is.

He finishes applying the poultice and wipes away the excess on his hands with his rag. Then next comes the bandages, of which he has a substantial roll of.]

Your binding earlier was a bit too tight, just keep that in mind. Putting pressure it good, but not to the extent of cutting off your regular breathing. [He takes the end of the bandage and places it on Zevran's left side, keeping it there with his hand as he starts to bandage up the wound as professionally as possible.]

[ombranera]

I was attempting not to bleed all over my leathers, and short on time. The caravan I joined for the last leg of the journey here was almost in view.

[ A bloody elf surrounded by dead bodies? Not something that would get him a ride. A scuffed up elf further down the road looking for a little help? Far more palatable for most humans. ]

But I will keep this in mind, thank you. I will be certain not to bind them too tightly. [ For his part Zevran neither says nor does anything ungentlemanly- he is in no pain and does not need the distraction.

Yet. ]

[amygdalae]

[Bruce doesn't care too much of the circumstances earlier - as long as he remembers, its all that matters.

A few more minutes and Bruce is done with the bandages, securing it at the end and giving it a faint tug to make sure it doesn't fall out. Everything looks in place, which is good enough for him.

He pulls back and wipes off his hands again.] You can sit straight now; I'll look at your shoulder and bandage that, too.

[ombranera]

The shoulder is where I am most concerned, to be honest.

[ For all that he had been moving carefully, normally since he was wounded, anything so close to the joint was doubly dangerous. He turns enough to put the wound in Bruce's view, glaring at the mark. ]

The idiot couldn't even hold it properly, else I'd have bled out. Antivan Crows they were not. Still- I would rather not lose movement or sensation in my arm. I need it.

[amygdalae]

[Most people wouldn't like to lose their arm in any way, but Bruce refrains from saying that. It's obvious enough as it is.]

I'll look at it and see what I can do. [It's the best promise he can make - he's no professional, to be sure, but he's had some experience managing bad wounds. If anything, living out in Seheron has helped in furthering his knowledge of treating terrible injuries.

He takes the alcohol again and washes out the old poultice, dabbing it clean so that he can study the wound. It certainly looks rather bad, although the rudimentary treatment Zevran did stopped things from getting worse, so that's at least one good thing.

Bruce gets the usual equipment ready again as he speaks to Zevran.] The entry point is too small for me to be able to stitch it up, but it seems the bleeding's already stopped, so the skin should heal up naturally in time. The best I can do is to do the same like what I did with your other injury, but with another type of poultice instead. Would that be fine?

[ombranera]

[ This close, the faint tension around Zevran's eyes is likely more obvious- he does not move or flinch or tense up but there's a subtle tightening of his jaw he swallows past. A distraction is required as there is a pike of fire more or less working it's way under his skin while Bruce cleans it out. Staring at the side of his face seems to work well enough.

Tanned skin, stubble, strong jaw, no real trace of an accent something seen with those that either speak many languages or lived close to dwarves- or near a large settlement of Qunari. Curious. ]

It is less the skin that worries me than what lies underneath. [ But if nothing can be done? Nothing can be done. ] If that is what you feel is best? That is what should be done.

[amygdalae]

[If Bruce notices anything he says nothing of it. He purses his lips and thinks about it for a moment, debating on what course of action to take.]

You know yourself best, so if you feel that anything is wrong, let me know. I'll figure out something then. [He has some ideas but he isn't entirely sure, and he doesn't want to give anything that'll make things worse. There's still so much of the inside that continues to be totally not understandable.

He rummages in his bag for a moment and gets out another container of poultice, this one more potent than the one he used earlier. The smell is probably also something to comment about when he starts to apply in onto Zevran - from Bruce's own expression, its clear that he doesn't find it pleasant either.]

[ombranera]

It has been at least five years since I last took an injury like this so close to the joint- and then? It was an arrow. I healed well enough but a stiletto is not an arrow. [ Just Assassin Problems, to be sure. Oh. Lip pursing. That's interesting. Distracting, even. ] Aside from 'sweet Andraste's ass, that stings' I am not able to tell what it should or shouldn't feel like at the moment. Perhaps in a day or two I will have a better idea for us both.

[ Further enough down the line to be able to discern a change, but not so long that it'll be beyond fixing. Also: An excuse to visit! Marvelous. Aside from tapping the fingers of his injured arm against his thumb to test what he can move and feel, he doesn't so much as twitch-

Alright he does but not from the contact, from the smell. ]

What in Thedas- I have been hip deep in Darkspawn entrails that smelled better than this. What did you kill to make this?

thedas' version of rafflesia

[amygdalae]

Just let me know whenever. Wouldn't want to amputate your arm if it came to that.

[Amputation is never a fun business. Also, yes, the smell is terrible and Bruce knows that very well. Its why he doesn't like to use this particular poultice very often, but when the needs are there...]

I didn't kill anything. [He says very, very blandly this time, preferring not to do anything that will have him inhale more of this horrible stench.] Just give it an hour or two. The worst of the smell will fade eventually.

[He quickly finishes applying it before closing the container so that he can breathe somewhere decently again. That was... really awful. Hopefully he won't need to use that again any time soon.]

oh god that's mean how is he supposed to get his mack on now?

[ombranera]

Ah, yes, and until then I shall remain downwind of the entire fortress, waiting for vultures to come cart me away like the carcass they think me to be. [ He wanted a regular healer. He wanted to not take up the time of mages.

See what compassion brings, Zevran? Pretty men and horrid ointments. ]

You are lucky I find you too attractive to be upset. [ Nope, turning his head away from the smell didn't help. Maker, why. ]

self-restraint and patience

[amygdalae]

[Well Zevran, if you want your injuries to heal faster, this is what you need to deal with. By non-magical ways.

Just be glad you didn't have to make it.]

You'll need to keep on applying it for at least the next few days. [He says that instead of responding to the elf's snarm, or the part where he's apparently attractive or something.] It'll make the wound heal faster.

Slander and lies

[ombranera]

Oh. Marvelous. [ Oh joy of joys. But- it should help.

And if it didn't? He would have some words with this healer. ]

The last time anything I put something this rank on me willingly- it was to avoid being eaten by a dragon. [ Fun time, that. ] I do hope this doesn't sink in to leather. I'll have to scrap everything in my pack.

keep it in your pants, elf

[amygdalae]

The bandages will prevent that.

[He says brusquely as he puts the container back deep into his bag. He wipes his hands clean and gets some alcohol to rinse off the rest, then gets the bandages and starts to wrap up his shoulder, speaking as he does so.]

With your concern about underneath, just try not to move your shoulder too much. I don't think anything major is hurt but if you want to be safe, not do anything strenuous until the wound has healed.

Does it count if he keeps his pants on?

[ombranera]

...Ah, yes. I had not thought of that.

[ Antivan leather may very well smell of rotting flesh- but that was a pleasant, nostalgic sort of odor. He'd rather not ruin it. Should the cotton of the bandages hold? He should be well enough. ]

...When you say strenuous... What exactly do you mean? Heavy lifting, drawing a bow, hefting a child, lifting a glass of brandy...?

yes

[amygdalae]

I'd advise you against hefting anything if it comes to it - but generally anything that might exert pressure on your shoulder would be a bad idea.

[He will... leave it to Zevran to figure the specifics out. As long as he doesn't come with blood everywhere, Bruce will be okay.

After another minute Bruce has the bandages done and secured, and once he's sure they won't fall off he pulls away.]

That should do it. You can put your clothes back on now.

[While Zevran does that Bruce will go and get some of the non-smelly poultice for the elf for him to take along for his own application. The smelly one, however, will stay with Bruce. He suspects Zevran will be thankful for that, anyway.]