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

[quietblade]

[Okay, that was cute. He chuckles slightly and pulls up another bucket for her, just in case she needed more.]

Thought you Dalish types stayed in the woods.

[mythalenaste]

[She almost answers seriously, but realizes it's a chance to repay him for the laugh.]

Only because our ancestors wandered into the woods one day, got lost, and were too stuck-up to admit they'd done it by accident. That's where we've been ever since.

[quietblade]

[That makes him laugh again, and nearly drops the bucket.]

Well. It looks like you got over it.

[mythalenaste]

[Yyeah, that's about all she's got. She's left grinning with the accomplishment of making him laugh, though. Yay, look at her being socially adept! Once!]

Yes, well. It's harder to join the Inquisition in the woods.

[She drains the cup and offers it to him.]

Do you want a drink?

[quietblade]

What makes a Dalish want to join this mess, anyway?

[She was so fucking tiny compared to him that he had to bend down a little to accept the cup, draining it in two chugs.]

Thanks.

[mythalenaste]

[Her gaze falls away. She knows he means her specifically, but it's her way to keep some distance, emotionally, until she feels safe.]

The end of the world isn't in our best interests. A controversial opinion, I suppose.

[quietblade]

Hey. I don't mean anything bad about it.

[Taas holds up his hands in a soothing gesture.]

Just curious.

[mythalenaste]

[Oh, that...did sound kind of passive-aggressive, didn't it? No, that was bitterness on her part. Not fair, she realizes. He has given her no grief over being an elf. He has treated her like a person of dignity, in fact. No, not fair at all.]

Ir abelas--I'm sorry, [she corrects herself. Gotta use the common terms among non-elves.] I didn't mean--

[She bites down on that, releases a breath, and tries a different tack.]

I wanted to protect my people. That's all it is, really.

[Not exactly all, but.]

[quietblade]

[There was the words he couldn't read again, but the way she corrected herself, it looked like it meant 'sorry'.

Oh well. It wasn't like he minded or anything. Things were bad all over.]

I get you. It was just unusual, that's all. Kind of like a lone qunari wandering into a human fortress, right?

[mythalenaste]

[There, look, they have something in common. She smiles.]

I wasn't going to say. I don't know what's usual or unusual among city folk, anyway. For all I know, every fortress has one.

[quietblade]

[That earns her a rumbling laugh.]

Fuck no, some humans would rather set their fortress on fire.

[mythalenaste]

[An unvoiced laugh.]

Lucky for us the Inquisition can't be choosy.

[quietblade]

Lucky, indeed.

[Not that he's actually part of it, but details.]

[mythalenaste]

What's your name?

[quietblade]

I'm Taashath. [He smiles.] You?

[mythalenaste]

Pel.

[quietblade]

Heh. That's cute.

[mythalenaste]

[Not a word she hears often used to describe her. It makes her smile.]

That's probably what my parents were thinking. It doesn't mean anything in elven. My brother's name is like that, too. Kim.

[quietblade]

[It was an easy name to read on her lips. Pell. Simple and sweet.

It was a bit odd that it didn't actually mean, anything, however. For qunari, the meaning was the whole point of the name they were called.]

Huh. Short and easy.

[mythalenaste]

Serviceable and practical that way. I rather like it. Does Taashath mean anything?

[quietblade]

True.

[He pauses a bit and rubs the back of his neck.]

It means 'calm'.

[mythalenaste]

Is that a description, or an aspiration?

[It's a pretty nonserious question.]

[quietblade]

An aspiration, and a reminder.

[Not a beast.]

Lot of us Tal-Vashoth go mad when we leave the Qun. I try to remember not not be that kind.

[Again.]

[mythalenaste]

[Those words mean nothing to Pel.]

Tal-Vashoth? [She sits on the edge of the well and looks up at him, two feet above her.]

[quietblade]

[Right. Forest child.]

A qunari who left the Qun. Like a Dalish who decided they didn't believe in Dalish gods and left their clan.