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

[mythalenaste]

Pel yanks the blanket up and casts it over the rest of the flames, hopping quickly from foot to foot as she must stand on still-hot ground. She's quick to jump on the blanket and stamp out those flames as well. The water gets there to sizzle out any remaining sparks and embers. Smoke billows up. She hops away from the smoke quickly, favoring one foot before sitting down hard on the ground.

"Ow," she says matter-of-factly, then coughs at the smoke.

[perseverances]

With the fire out, and Cullen shouting to the guards to find the ridiculous person who started the fire in the first place, he moves over to the elf who helped him put out the fire. He kneels down beside her, hoping to see if she's alright.

"I never did understand why the Dalish don't wear shoes," He says offhandedly, trying to lighten the situation but probably failing horribly. "Are you alright? Do you need a healer?"

[mythalenaste]

"I'm fine." She can feel her feet cooling, and touches the soles to be sure. "Nothing hurt. It's just. This is the first sit-down I've had all day."

She lets out a long, relieved breath. She has to resist the urge to lie down and let her limbs be as heavy as they feel. Instead, she draws up her knees and rests her arms on them for a moment. A few seconds later, she pushes to her feet and offers him a hand up (a ridiculous gesture from someone so much smaller).

"We elves are tougher than we look. Thanks, though."