faderift | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.]

Skyhold

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