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

[samahl]

"There are six, myself included, though Gavin left before the rest of us. He was at Haven and came to Skyhold with the rest of you."

[el_tybs]

Sam's eyes widen at that. "Gavin?" The name definitely rings a bell.

[samahl]

"Yes. Do you know him?" That makes Cyril seem interested. He's curious if there are any good stories about Gavin.

[el_tybs]

Sam rubs the back of his neck at that. "I believe so? There was an incident with a bush if I'm thinking of the same person."

[samahl]

"An incident with a bush?" he asks, interested. He leans a little closer. "Do tell."

[el_tybs]

Sam blinks as Cyril leans in closer. There's something about his voice- He sputters. "Nothing like that!" That blush is back with a vengeance.

[samahl]

"Then what is it?" he asks. He nudges Sam very lightly. "Let me figure out if it's the same person. Did he trip over the bush? That sounds like something Gavin would do."

[el_tybs]

Sam sighs heavily and puts his face in a hand. "Technically I RAN into him and ended up in a bush. He ended up on the ground. Face first."

[samahl]

Cyril smiles at the mental image. "Yes, that does sound a bit like him."

[el_tybs]

"He gets easily run over?" Sam looks up from his hand.

[samahl]

"Mm, and falls on his face," Cyril said, but there is a certain level of affection there.

[el_tybs]

"Hm. He gives my clumsiness a run for it's money." Sam's eyes venture to the exact spot the two of them had met. "Nice guy."

[samahl]

"He is nice, and he lets people think he's a fool too," Cyril comments, hinting that he doesn't really think that Gavin is as simple as he comes across. "But he's good to have in a fight. He's managed shots I didn't think were possible."

[el_tybs]

Sam tilts his head. He hadn't thought the Elf to be much of a fool. Foolish maybe.

"Can't say I've had the pleasure of seeing his shots."

[samahl]

"Well you see, you have to get him in a tree, and then get him falling out of it. Then he'll hit a target several dozens of yard away as if it was an accident," Cyril points out. "Maybe if you go out on assignment with him you'll see it."

[el_tybs]

"Really? A tree? Can't be anything else?" Either way that was seriously impressive. At the mention of missions, Sam gives a laugh. "When ever that happens, yeah?"

[samahl]

"Anything he can fall off of," Cyril replies. "And do you know what they're going to do as far as leadership?"

[el_tybs]

Sam huffs. That's a loaded question. "Honestly... I don't know. Right now it's the advisers who are in charge. Think they're trying to figure something."

[samahl]

He nods a bit at that, thinking it over. "Did you know the one they called the Herald at all?"

[el_tybs]

"I know OF her. And I've seen her. I just didn't know her personally. She was from the Free Marches I believe." From afar she seemed like a decent person. Pretty. But that was all.

[samahl]

"So I've heard. I don't know much about human families there. I wonder if hers misses her?" he says it thoughtfully, wondering exactly how much human nobles care for one another.

[el_tybs]

Sam shakes his head and leans back a bit. "I would hope so? I can't say for sure. I don't know how nobility works." Come to think of it he should probably see when things settled down if he could send a raven out.

[samahl]

Cyril is quiet as he thinks for a moment. He leans back a bit as well and looks up. "There may not be people let to remember her if we fail," he says after a moment. There is something very raw and honest in his voice as he says it. "It puts things into perspective, doesn't it?"

[el_tybs]

Sam looks to Cyril for a moment. Shaking his head he looks up at the stars, taking in a deep breath then letting it go in a quick huff. "Nothing like your own mortality staring you in the face."

[samahl]

"Nothing like facing your mortality to make you realize that right now, in this moment, you are alive. Not everyone can say that," Cyril points out. He looks back at Sam and gives him a smile. "Best to make the most of it."