faderift | Skyhold

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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[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?

[ 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.

[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.]

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?

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.]

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. ]

[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.

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.

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.

...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...?

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.]

Noted.

[ There goes working against the springs for the traps he will need to set. or climbing. He can do that with only one hand but- the strain may be too much all the same.

He is grounded until the wound heals. ]

And you didn't so swoon once. Your strength of will is a marvel, my friend. [ Shirt, okay. That was easy enough with the one arm. The armor- buckling it over his shoulder would be difficult- better to set it aside and pull on a thin vest instead. Not a lot of protection but the smith will likely have something for him. Once set he begins arming himself once more- adjusting the placement of his blades to compensate for not being able to move his arm. ]

What do I owe you?

[Bruce comes back to Zevran and places a small container with the poultice used on his side into his hands.]

Just stay alive and we're even. [That's what he's here for, after all. Making sure the people inside here stay alive. Plus the Inquisition already gives him food and lodgings which is all that he honestly needs.] Come back tomorrow when you can and I'll check on the shoulder to see how it takes.

I understand that as a part of your vocation you must be compassionate- but in Antiva we pay our healers. If I must force silvers into your pocket, I will.

[ Less force and more slip in when Bruce isn't looking- but that goes without saying. Even now he's pulling his purse from his belt and opening it to fetch some coin. ]

Surely there must be something you would like in return- aside from anything involving strenuous activity.

[There's a clearly uncomfortable look on Bruce's face now, since he really doesn't like the thought of being paid. It's more than being compassionate, its... he does this to assuage his own guilt, his own wrongs. Being paid for it just takes away the meaning behind why he does this at all.]

We can discuss about that when you're fully healed. [When all else fails, deflect. That will buy him some time at least.] Right now what is more important is that you recover.

[ Now why is he making that face? Zevran arches a brow in turn, fingers curled around three silvers. It was just a start but the usual 'oh no don't pay me' act drops by the time coin is seen. And yet this persists.

What is with this man? ]

You...are very strange, Bruce. But if you insist. [ He will have to find a way to secret these coins somewhere in the general vicinity before he leaves. ]

[If Bruce ever has any kind of currency forced onto him he will probably use it for other people. He never really keeps anything for himself.

Still, he can't help but quietly snort at Zevran's words and confusion.]

I get that a lot. [Well, maybe not 'strange', exactly. 'Abomination' is probably more appropriate for him. Since that's what he is.]

I cannot fathom why. Clearly you are the most logical and discerning healer in all of Skyhold.

[ Working for free. What sort of world was that? A charitable one. A baffling, baffling charitable one.

Once his last dagger is once again tucked about his person, Zevran stands and begins collecting the leather armor and pauldrons he left off for sanity's sake. While bent over he...slips the silvers into a pocket of Bruce's pack. Subtly. ]

But I suppose complaining about that makes me more the fool, yes?

[Bruce doesn't notice it, but he will find them later. And then probably return it to Zevran when he comes over again. He really, really doesn't need the cash. It doesn't do well for his moral conscience.]

I joined in order to do my job. The food and shelter I'm given is enough; I don't need anything more than that.

[Food, lodgings, and a constant stream of people to help. That's all he needs.

He gives a shrug at Zevran's words, clearly not too bothered.]

Most people just like to not spend their gold.

Ah yes, 'it is not indentured servitude because I volunteered!', I forgot that argument.

[ Mostly because the luxury of such a choice is a foreign one to elves. He is not bitter when he speaks, though, more amused than anything. ]

Most people often do not know what it is to be expected to do everything free of charge.

[Ah--yes. Well. Bruce had no intention to make light of the elves' plight, of course. But he supposes considering everything... it might be hard to understand.

He makes a bit of a face, clearly affected by Zevran's words.] I simply feel that with all the fighting that goes on, there had to be more people around who can help the ones that are innocent but yet affected by the fights.

[There will never be a shortage of people that need help, as so long as all the wars in Thedas continue to persist. Not to mention the Blights.]

[ Awkward silence caused by misplaced racial guilt and societal double standards? It must be his birthday.

Or it would if he put any stock in celebrating such a thing. Hurrah, he did not die this year, etc. For the face Zev waves a hand, as though brushing the issue away. It wasn't one, he isn't offended, merely baffled by Bruce's adherence to some manner of moral code.

It is a rare thing in these times. ]

And who helps the helpers, mm? Who tends to you when you are weary with naught but what allowances you are given in turn for your service?

I manage.

[That's all Bruce will say, with a small smile. What he feels doesn't matter. Why would it? He's a monster trying to be a man, even though Bruce knows deep inside it will never work out.

But he tries anyway, because its all he can do.

Not really wanting this topic to go on any further, Bruce turns around and puts his attention on cleaning up the items he had used on Zevran.]

I should be around here as well tomorrow. Come and find me then so I can look at your wound.

[It's as much of a dismissal as Bruce will ever give one.]

[ Ah, the casual implied dismissal, Zevran's old friend. He thinks nothing of it, Bruce has much yet to do and he- needs to find armor, a place to live, a reputable source of herbs, and to lay traps around wherever he chooses to live- laced with herbal poison from his new source. A busy night he shall have. ]

Sometime in the afternoon, yes? I am certain you will have other things to tend to in the morning.

[ Said on his way out the door. Odds are Bruce will be here some time during the day and- well. Healers aren't so many that he will be unable to find him. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Skyhold

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thedas' version of rafflesia

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

self-restraint and patience

Slander and lies

keep it in your pants, elf

Does it count if he keeps his pants on?

yes

So stern.

somebody has to be

it sure as hell won't be zev

that's why bruce is around

he is a wonderful person that way.

everyone will like him then hate him

and like him again

are u sure

p sure

uh huh

yuh huh

:C

: D