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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[He took the seat easily, feet curling up around the stool rather than planting on the ground, already reaching down to pull up his shirt to show Bruce the massive bruises around his ribs.]

Well uh - See, I was just trying to feed the Ravens some scraps, and I kind of... fell. Down. For a while. But I'm alright! A Qunari broke my fall.

[After realising how that might have sounded, he laughed and flushed with embarrassment.]

Who is also fine too, I promise. No one dead. But I - ah - I'm quite sore.

Edited (sob formatting) 2015-10-19 15:35 (UTC)

[Bruce is pretty sure that a Qunari can take a lot more than an elf falling onto it, but its nice to be reassured all the same. Still, he sighs a little at the bruises that he can see, the exasperation audible even if Bruce tries not to voice it out directly.]

If you weren't sore with bruises like these, I would have been amazed. [He carefully reaches out and places a hand against Gavin's ribs, trying to keep his touch gentle, wary of the bruises.] Do you have any difficultly breathing?

[He winced, visibly, but the was still smiling helplessly at Bruce.]

No, no I would have come faster if I had. But it does hurt a right - [A pause as he tried to work out a translation, and then gave up and merely said:] It does hurt a lot. Especially if I sleep on the right side.

[He looked down and poked the lowest rib on his right, and then winced again.]

I thought a small fracture, maybe... Or the bruises are just as bad on the inside as on the outside.

[Super eloquent.]

[The attempt at smiling is appreciated, at least.]

Only if you lie down on your right, you said? [He asks, as he moves his hand over to said side, and only pauses for a moment before he applies some pressure onto it.]

Tell me how badly it hurts from one to ten, one being a little and ten for a lot.

Edited 2015-10-19 15:55 (UTC)

I'm not sure that could ever be an accurate sca-- creators, that hurts! A seven? Can we go with a seven, and then stop touching it?

[He pulled back from Bruce's hands without meaning to, before letting his shirt fall back down.]

One day I'll learn better, and wrap myself up in ram's wool and roll around that way...

[Despite himself Bruce laughs - just a little, and very quietly too - but the amusement is still clear on his face as he withdraws back his hand.]

That would probably help just a little. [He rummages through his supplies and gets out a container of the usual poultice - not the one with the horrible stench, at least. Those are for more... serious cases.]

Lift up your shirt again. [He says, already taking out some of the poultice to put on his injuries.] This should help to make the bruises fade.

[The laugh from Bruce let Gavin's smile set into something smaller, but warmer - glad at least he'd managed to do that. He shifted on his stool - considered - and then just pulled the whole shirt off his head. The bruises weren't just on his side - they dotted his back and shoulders as well - but the worst had been where he'd already showed Bruce.]

Thanks, Bruce. I'll try to spend at least a week before needing to come and see you again, I swear.

Try to at least aim for two. There's only so many bandages I can spare.

[He keeps his hand gentle at least as he spreads the poultice onto the bruises, making sure not to put too much pressure on his injuries. He puts a larger concentration on the worst of the bruises, and only a small smattering on the rest - the body can work on the rest, as it always does.]

[He manages to sit still, sort of, but within about three minutes he's already squirming.]

I should start carrying my own stock. I'm sure there are plenty of Corypheus cronies who really don't need the - ow - bandages that they've got. What do dwarves use for medicine, I wonder? Have you ever been to Orzammar? Not a lot of elf root grows down there, I'd think, so what would they make poultices out of. Mud? - ow - If only the deep roads still went anywhere, that would be a sight..."

[Bruce, for the most part, is used to the squirming and blabbering, so he takes it all in good grace while managing to work with the constant shifting around.]

I've stepped into the deep roads a few times, but nowhere near Orzammar. But from what I've seen, they're probably full of deep mushrooms.

But there would have been other things, before. Long ago. Back before they were filled with - ow - dark spawn. When the dwarves were all down there. They couldn't just live off mushrooms forever.

When were you in the deep roads? Did you fight darkspawn?

A few years ago. And no, I didn't encounter any darkspawn. I didn't go that deep inside.

[Just enough to get what he needed.]

Maybe if you do ever meet a dwarf that isn't on the surface, you can ask he or she about it.

I did try to get into Orzammar, once, but - well, you can imagine how that went.

[He turned his head up to flash Bruce a grin, and then a laughing wince.]

Really, I don't think any of them could really answer all my questions about it. At least not any more than I could answer all your questions about Arlathan. I'm sure they think about it, and -- well, they don't dream about it, really, but you know what I mean. I'm sure it's there, in their mind, but that's not the same.

[He fell thoughtfully silent for all of two seconds, and then looked up again, the smile fading slightly.]

Are you-- are all of you alright, though? It's been ... a tough time, obviously, for everyone, but for the healers...

Now that's a story worth hearing about.

[It'd be interesting, at the very least.

He continues to attend to each and every bruise that he can spot on Gavin, falling silent as he lets the elf continue to speak. That is until he asks about Bruce and--well.

He supposes he does have to answer that.]

You don't have to worry about me. [He replies, glancing up and giving a small smile.] I can manage.

[He has, and had. Maybe not as bad as this, but certainly close enough.]

Well of course you can manage. That much is obvious. [He offers Bruce a smile there as the last bruise is touched up, and Gavin begins to flex his sore muscles. The poultices were already doing their job - numbing the pain away, quietly.]

If I didn't think you could manage, I wouldn't bother you so often with my - ah - accidents. But there's a difference between managing and-- [He paused, frowning, not sure of the word he wanted as he picked up his shirt and carefully tried sliding it back on.]

I just want to make sure I'm not an added burden when you already have enough. That's all. And if there's anything I can do to help out around here, make it easier...

[He trailed off, honestly wanting to be helpful but at the same time knowing very well that he was the last person that should be doing anyone's medical care.]

[The words are nice, and Bruce does appreciate them, but really, he doesn't have to.]

You're hardly a burden at all, Ashara. [He says, as nicely as he can, so that the elf understands.] As a surgeon its my job to treat your wounds - no matter how ridiculous they can be, at times. But I'm glad to be of help, no matter what.

[He cleans his hands off the poultice and keeps the container back in his bag, rummaging around for a bit again before he pulls out a healing potion and passes it over to Gavin.]

Here, it'll be better to drink this. Judging from the pain you probably do have a fractured rib, so this will speed up the healing process.

You're going to have to call me Gavin, from now on. Did you hear? A bunch more from my clan showed up, and you can't call us all Ashara.

[He reached out to take the potion, flashing a thankful smile before he carefully uncorked it.]

Thanks. I'm sure I'd be alright in a bit, but- it does help. All of it.

I'm sure I can figure something out.

[Bruce isn't very fond of calling people so... familiarly. It tends to bring to him a lot of connotations that he'd rather avoid.

Of course, he doesn't show any of that, only giving the elf a small smile.]

Tell me if the pain doesn't subside by tomorrow. I'll have to give your injuries another look then.

As long as it isn't "knife-ear" or "idiot", I don't mind. [He grinned, paused, and then laughed.] Actually, considering my clan, idiot is fine too.

[He downed the potion and then stood up, carefully testing the bandages to make sure they didn't slide around too much, and was pleased that he already felt much better.]

Thanks, Bruce. You're a miracle worker. If you ever need a hand shooting things, or falling down cliffs, let me know.

[Bruce's opinion about elves had always been fairly neutral, but ever since he's taken to going across Thedas - and especially since joining the Inquisition - that opinion had improved a fair bit. Sure, a good number of the Dalish he met tended to treat him warily, which was perfectly understandable, but in a way he respected their desire and way of living. In a way, he could relate to it.

And of course, the elves he met here - they were a lot more lively than he had expected. Gavin being one of them.]

It'll be neither of those things; both the name calling and your offer. [But the thought is appreciated, still.] As long as you don't hurt yourself again any time soon, I'll be glad enough.

Such a simple request that will be nearly impossible to grant. [He laughed at that, and then smiled warmly at Bruce.]

But at least I can say, I'll do my best. And get out of your hair. I know you all have a lot more pressing things to worry about than a clumsy elf.

Don't worry about it.

[Clumsy elves aren't the worst things Bruce has had to deal with, after all.]

Just try to take care of yourself. And hopefully, I don't have to patch you up again any time soon.

[But of course even though he says that, even if Gavin returns tomorrow with more injuries Bruce will still treat them anyway, because that's his job.]

Aye aye! [He gives a grin and a slight, lopsided salute, before wandering back off into the castle, probably to get horribly injured again.]

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Skyhold

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