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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Korrin is used to people noticing her before she notices them, for the most part. There may be a couple of other qunari about, but she's very much aware of being in the minority around Skyhold. She's still getting used to the daily aspects of various sizes, most of them smaller than her own.

So it's probably understandable after acquiring her drink, she doesn't think to look down and bumps right into the dwarven scout, spilling some of her eagerly-awaited ale in the process. That brings her to a halt, and her eyes widen in surprise and mortification, all the more so as she recognizes the one before her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry--"

Fortunately for Harding, she has good reflexes, so she doesn't fall backwards, taking a well-timed backstep to balance herself. Unfortunately for Harding, the tavern is not exactly empty, and she doesn't avoid the sloshed ale entirely, but her chestplate takes the worst of it.

For half a second Harding looks perplexed; perhaps even annoyed. And then it's gone and she's neutrally assessing the damage and lowering her hands back to her sides from where they were raised.

"No harm done," she says earnestly. "I've had worse back home."

Maybe that one's a half lie. That's usually humans bumping into her rather than qunari, but eh, details.

The near-fall has Korrin automatically reaching out to steady her, though it proves unnecessary. She sighs upon noting the sloshed ale, more chagrined about spilling it on the poor scout than losing some of her hard-earned drink. Snagging one of the cleaning cloths from the counter, she hands it over.

"Even so, that was careless of me. I should have been looking where I was going. Let me make it up to you. You deserve a drink anyway, for all your hard work." It hasn't gone unnoticed and Korrin has to admire someone as dedicated as Harding has been to the cause. The least she can do is pay for a drink or several.

Harding takes the offer cloth, dabbing the metal, her gaze going from Korrin to cloth respectively. Whether it'll stain is one matter, whether it'll smell is another. She hopes it's a no on the latter.

"Well, I'd never be one to turn down a free drink. Though... wasn't it my turn?" She remembers a conversation in Redcliffe, in what feels almost like a lifetime ago. Korrin, if she recalls correctly. But Harding shrugs, the last of the ale wiped away. Still, she can't exactly take all of Korrin's money on drink, and there's another form of currency worth more than that, that she's running low on. "Tell you what. If you sit with me and tell me what's been happening at Skyhold, we'll call it even."

It's a mental note to be far more careful navigating her way around Skyhold, at least. Korrin has no desire to trample anyone, let alone the dwarven scout and fellow freckle-face, whose company she enjoyed. Mention of who owes who gets a soft chuckle from her as she shakes her head.

"I hadn't been keeping track, to be honest. But alright, fair enough. I'll do what I can to give an update, in my own biased fashion. Table or bar?"

Korrin doesn't care either way, so she'll leave it up to Harding. As long as they can drink in peace, that's all that matters.

"Being bias just shows you're invested," Harding says with a smile. Perhaps you see things in a rose-tinted fashion or better or worse than they are, but the Inquisition means a lot to Harding, and hearing it from someone else's view can only be a positive thing.

"On this occasion, I'd say table." The tavern is crowded, sure, but an opportunely timed table just because free in a corner, so she'll stride over with surprising speed and hoist herself up onto a chair when Korrin's ready.

Korrin's eyebrows raise at Harding's speed, but she'll readily head over and plot down into a chair with a content sigh. She might not be getting up for a while, not after the long day she's had.

"The place is still a mess, as you can see. We're working on it, but when there's so much to fix, it's slow going. And I say this as a mage, it's even slower for those who can't move debris aside as quickly.

Morale's not great, either. The tavern helps, no question, but people are going to need more than access to vast amounts of alcohol. Which isn't to say that doesn't help...." Hence Krem's plan, but she'll keep that to herself unless he wants to let her in. Besides, maybe Harding will have more ideas. At this point, more can't hurt.

She grew up in a human village. You had to be quick if you wanted that table.... that, or she's just used to running after sheep.

Harding nurses her drink, listening. About as she expected, then. "That takes a lot o delegation. And preservation. You probably don't see it being here, but it's more than it was." With the tavern and the courtyard and generally the settling into routine, but Korrin's not wrong. Morale isn't consistently attained by copious amounts of drink. She thumbs the edge of her flask.

"That sounds like there might be an idea of how to help, Korrin."

"Alright, I admit I didn't think about it that way. If you can see the difference, that's encouraging. Maybe I've been here too long to notice, but it doesn't seem right to head out just yet. The less scaffolding there is for people to fall off, the better."

Korrin's quiet for the amount of time it takes her down more of her drink, then smiles. "Maybe, but it's not for me to say. Morale might improve anyway, once the tedium is over and we get back out there. Restoring walls is important, no doubt, but sometimes it just helps to smash demons instead." You know. Mayhem. "Please tell me you didn't kill them all for us, that just wouldn't be any fun."

"It happens when you're further away from things. Or look at things from a different perspective." Was that a height joke? That might have been a height joke. Her face has slanted to the familiar half-smile, at least. "Part of my job, anyway. Noticing things. I'd be a poor scout if I didn't."

She sips the drink, and chuckles underneath it, long and drawn out. Ah, mayhem. "Nah. Still plenty left for you. Think you can handle 'em?"

Korrin flashes a grin at the height joke, appreciating those from someone who understands what it is to be a different size from the majority. It's much less amusing coming from humans, though. At that question, she gives a firm nod.

"Anytime, anywhere. Hey, is that dragon still uncomfortably close to Redcliffe Village? I wouldn't mind taking it on...with backup, of course. A lot of backup." She made the mistake of wandering into its territory earlier, and isn't foolish enough to do that again.

"It's hard for her to be less of a menace. I think she's nested? That's what dragons do, right, after leaving a long trail of destruction in their wake?" Not that it's stopping her from venturing out occasionally to terrorise Redcliffe and keep the Crossroads awake at night with the roars in the valley.

"Can't say I've gone toe-to-toe with a dragon, but you can count on me for support if you did."

"I will, though I think I need to be a better mage before I try that. It's a good thing there are so many gathered here, some more skilled or specialized than I. I'd bet that at least a few might know techniques that could be useful." That and it's something else to do in Skyhold while awaiting assignments.

"Maybe..." Harding frowns, her face firmly set into a hard serious line. It's not that she's against experimenting with something new, figuring out techniques, but... y'know, not-quite darkspawn, holes in the sky, time magic... and even then, it's not really Templar stance, either. Dwarf stance of something they can't comprehend, if that's such a thing, non-mage stance for not knowing if it's safe, and purely Harding stance in that she's concerned for them as individuals. "It's not dangerous for you all, teaching each other skills like that?"

Korrin shrugs, having accepted any risk long ago. "It's what comes to being a mage, whether Vashtoth or human or elf. What we do always has carries some risk, but is passing on knowledge gained more risky than random experimentation? I don't think so, not if we're careful. We'll need more than what we have in order to stop that darkspawn bastard, anyway. If he wins, it's not going to matter what else happens."

"That's true enough," Harding relents. "I wouldn't ask the scouts under me to take many risks, but they do. I shouldn't be surprised magecraft would be the same."

She nods to that, appeased. "It's more or less exactly that. By the way, I saw that you have a new scout-in-training. The Vashoth boy, Kas. What do you make of him?"

From her tone, she's rather fond of the brat, but she's also interested in an honest assessment, if Harding has one. If he's going to be out on the field, she's curious to see how well he's coming along.

"He sticks out," she says almost immediately. Sticking out is not hard, but the visual part is now how she means in this instance. "I can't quite tell if he's the member of the flock that constantly has to be accounted for or he'll get into trouble, or the one that'll do all that anyway but actually be better of for it."

That's the long opinion. The other is short and sweet. "He's young, but he's got promise. When he follows orders. We're working on that."

That opinion gets her to chuckle, and she can't help but nods in agreement Harding's assessment of Kas.

"I get the impression that he's not used to people giving him much in the way of respect. Being here is probably the first break he's had in a long time. If he can curb that impatience and realize he doesn't need to be on the defensive with everyone, I think he'll stand a good chance in proving himself."

Harding makes a soft noise of agreement. "You have to give people a chance. We can't afford the luxury to judge based on who they are, where they came from, the fact that others would tell them they're too young - you treat them the same, and see what they can do." It's what Charter did when she first showed up, leather jerkin and a bow and wanting to help guide them through the Hinterlands. It feels like a lifetime ago, a lifetime away from the responsibilities of people and much more sheep. "If he has what the Inquisition needs, then we'll make use of it. Even if someone else carries the torch, we're all parts in the machine."

Harding pauses, considering word choice. She shakes her head. "Maker, I sound so much like a dwarf when I say that."

Korrin has to stop sipping at her drink, before she ends up choking on it with that comment. She laughs, shaking her head. "There's nothing wrong with that, you know. At least you're a cute dwarf." What, it's true. Between the hair and the freckles, she's surprised Harding doesn't get more attention when in Skyhold. It's a crime, truly.

That gets her attention. Harding blinks, but makes no other than that, there's no real reaction. But the silence is telling in that she's considering what Korrin said and whether she disagrees and the context. Eventually she makes up her mind with a shrug and a soft smile. "Not really. But I won'd stop you from thinking so."

"Good, because I won't. You give yourself too little credit." But she'll let it go at that, not wanting to make her drinking companion uncomfortable. "And I appreciate that non-judgmental sentiment, you know. There aren't many places where a Vashoth or a mage can find that, let alone both. It hasn't been completely issue-free, but I've no reason to regret staying here."

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Skyhold

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