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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[Sauveterre takes the offered hand with gratitude and steadies himself before jumping down off that massive axe. He lands graceful before Taashath and sheathes his swords. They have no need for weapons now that the duel has ended.]

I could've but that would leave Thedas without another champion. [He says with a genial smile as he wipes the blood off his brow. There's a bothersome cut at the edge of his hairline that is bleeding profusely. Alayre doesn't seem too bothered by it though.]

Remind me to never lock horns with a qunari again.

[He laughs quietly.]

I didn't think I could either. The Melody Moon is quite sharp but never once did I think it was possible.

[The warrior hefts his axe up over his shoulder and chuckles at the 'champion' part. The bleeding forehead doesn't seem to worry the qunari much, either; foreheads just generally bled a lot. The Templar didn't seem concussed, at least.]

You should see the kids then they start growing their horns. [He makes a little horn gesture with his free hand.] They slam them on everything to make it stop itching, including your groin if you're unlucky. I'm not surprised the Tamassran are women.

[He snorts, amused as he claps his hand on Sauveterre's shoulder in a friendly gesture.]

You wanna tell me about those swords over a drink?

[A chuckle escapes Sauveterre once Taashath explains a bit about the challenging growth cycle of a young qunari's horns. He's only seen one lad that fits that image since coming here to Skyhold. Other than that, Sauveterre honestly doesn't know much about their culture.]

It would be my pleasure to share a drink with you but as the victor--[He grins cheekily at Taashath despite some of the minor aches and pains he feels.]

You're paying!

[He pats the pauldron and hands Sauveterre the cloth he had been wiping his own wound with, reaching into his pants to get a small vial of poultice to clean up with. He strokes it over the cut on his arm while wandering towards the tavern.]

Of course I am. Wouldn't dream of having it any other way.

[With Sauveterre's coin he'd just paid him with.]

[The Knight-Commander wordlessly accepts the cloth and starts pressing it gently against his cut. The bleeding isn't so bad now but attempting to wipe away all the blood from earlier is a messy task. The last thing he wants is to walk into Herald's Rest looking as if he already had a barfight or two.]

Good, especially considering I paid you well.

[He's quite aware of that, Taashath. That's why the bounty hunter is paying.]

Tell me, are you fond of ale or mead?

I'm more of an ale person. Mead is too sweet, in my opinion.

[Taas doesn't care if he looks like he was in a fight, since most eyes were on him as soon as he stepped inside, anyway. It wasn't easy to hide when you were a qunari, but at least people settled just as quickly.

Probably getting used to that mercenary band.

He walks up to Cabot and grins.]

A pint of ale for me, please. Knight-Commander?

It seems we have a difference when it comes down to preferred beverages.

[Guess who has a strong fondness for mead? Particularly mead recipes that involve either apples or honey. While he can stomach ale, Alayre prefers something light with a hint of sweetness.

Blame it on his fondness for Orlesian wines.]

Ah, all eyes on us.

[He mutters once the two reached the tavern. As the approached the bar, Alayre ponders if he should go for the crisp bitter taste of ale to save face or go straight for mead.

A thoughtful hum escapes him.]

Mead.

[His sweet tooth won out.]

[Taashath chuckles a bit at that, but he's not exactly the kind of guy to judge what people drank. Instead he makes sure the Templar gets the good kind rather than the cheap swill by adding an extra coin.]

Differences are what makes us people, Knight-Commander. It would be a dull world if everyone thought and liked the same.

How true.

[He grins a bit at Taashath. Alayre is feeling quite swell after their vigorous duel. He's been all smiles ever since and there's a jovial gleam in his gaze.

The Knight-Commander truly does enjoy a good spar. It's so exhilarating.]

It's just simply a shame that some people believe that a homogeneous society is better than one that prides itself on its diversity. I suppose this is why we have so many lunatics running amuck these days.

They've drunk so much ale that they cannot possibly understand those who like mead.

[Yes, Sauveterre managed to subtly critique society as a whole using bit about preferences.]

[That makes the qunari laugh for real, a thunderous thing deep in his chest as he clapped the Templar on the back in a friendly gesture.]

To differences, Knight-Commander - and a good fight!

[An amused rumble of a chuckle leaves Alayre once the bounty hunter pats his back. The level of friendship they share amuses him to no end. He hasn't felt something akin to friendship except for Baratheon and to be frank, his fellow Knight-Commander can be a tad trying at times.]

Aye! To our differences and a good fight!

[He says as he raises his mug high. Once they're done cheering, Alayre immediately starts drowning his mead. The Knight-Commander chugs half of it with a satisfying smile.]

Tis strong! A healthy and potent mixture.

[Baratheon and Sauveterre were two very different men that Taas would have never believed were friends if he hadn't met them on the road before. They probably completed a set of well-rounded personality traits if put together.

As it was, he enjoyed getting to know the Orlaisian both in battle and by friendship.]

I'm pretty certain it's the honey from the same bees they're making bee bombs with.

Bee bombs?

[A slight chuckle escapes Alayre as he takes another sip of mead. He really enjoys the sweetness of honey but not a lot of it. Just little droplets here and there.]

Well that's a rather novel concept. I dare say I like that fiendish idea.

[He has another sip and smirks a little. Alcohol works somewhat quickly with someone who doesn't drink often.

May the Maker bless him.]

What say you? Would you lay down thy axe and toss bee bombs at your foes? Imagine the hilarity.

[There's a laugh from the qunari at that, imagining himself tossing glass vials of bees at people.]

I don't think that is my way, Knight-Commander. I prefer a good axe than a bee sting.

[Splitting skulls were a lot more satisfying, too.

With humor like that, Taashath decided Sauveterre was a good drinking partner and orders them both another round.]

Ah, there's nothing more satisfying than jamming something sharp into your foes. It's vigorating, no?

[Just as soon as he finished his mug, another is given. Alayre smiles pleasantly at Taashath and sings him a voiceless praise before drowning the second glass.]

It's little wonder why I haven't haunted this tavern sooner. Try as I might, the Baratheon is quite stubborn and I'm not one to drink in my lonesome.

Oh, quite.

[It was his favorite thing, no doubt about that.

The increasing joyfulness of the human was nice, and he made a vow to see just how happy he could get Alayre. The man seemed like he could use some relaxing, after all.

Not as badly as Stannis did, but still.]

Well, I'm usually around if you need a drinking buddy, Knight-Commander.

Careful, I just might.

[Alayre says giddily with such a happy grin. Who would've guessed that the Knight-Commander of Pharos is this cheerful after two mugs of mead? No one, absolutely no one. Alayre typically looks so grim usually. Not as grim as Stannis but grim enough.

His stoney façade is nothing but a memory now as he hums along to the melodious ditty that the tavern bard is playing.]

Ah, Taashath, have you ever tried fine wines before? Not that Ferelden nonsense that tastes like water downed ale but real Orlesian wines? If you haven't, I should fetch a bottle or two for you.

[He grins more.]

It will put you in a heavenly mood, trust me. It's likened to ambrosia but twice as smooth.

[He sips his ale, enjoying the taste and the nice, warmed feeling in his chest. Seems Cabot slipped him the good stuff, too.

Taas wonders if he should get some real alcohol later, get himself nice and drunk after a good day like this. Alayre's tipsiness makes him want to get that way himself, but that would need hard booze.

...or good wine. Looking at the Templar, he grins.]

I can't say I have. People keep their fine things away from the scary qunari.

[Wines, clothes, daughters...]

I wouldn't mind a taste.

Very well! I shall gift you two bottles of wine for your tasting pleasure from my own sparse collection. I'm certain that you'll enjoy them.

[Another chuckle leaves him as he finishes his mug. The faint bitterness of the mead and the sweetness of honey makes a smile dance upon his lips.]

Have you ever tried Ferelden wines? They're usually quite horrid.

You're far too good to me, Knight-Commander... but I'm sure I will.

[Fine wine and someone in his bed sounded like a perfect night to him, so he's grateful for Alayre to provide the first part.]

Ferelden wine is cat piss and red paint.

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Skyhold

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