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

[fleurdesel]

Or what?

[ Magic she cannot use- but rapping a fool across the skull for remaining should he continue to press where he is unwanted is allowed. She'd checked ages ago out of idle curiosity. Thus she's prepared to do even with Compassion whispering, bidding her wait. To be calm, to be courteous.

It is not something she can hold to. Not when he comes to her tent and terrifies her wards, not when he demands her trust. For what is this if not a demand wrapped in a plea? Kind words and kind eyes that lie all the more for how gentle they seem. It is a lie. How can it be true when everything that he stood for crushed rather than cradled her students, her teachers, her family. Shattered the Circle and the Spire.

And then he kneels. That...

has her startled enough for the tent to warm, the ice to melt from her skin.

What was he doing? What ploy was this? ]

What do you know of bloodshed? [ What manner of templar decried the chantry? Pretty words. Pretty words that ring hollow- but her rage cools. Ices over entirely at the insult bound up in the middle. Continue the cycle? ]

I am a healer. My word was given to mend, not to murder- and unlike you and yours I keep my word.

[equanimiti]

Then keep it still.

[He urges her while still kneeling. The Templar takes a risk and gazes up her with eyes honest and true. Sauveterre didn't come here seeking bloodshed, he merely came here to assist and now he feels guilt for it.]

I know much of bloodshed all thanks to the spoon fed lies given to me since youth. I know much of suffering as well but let us not compare each others agony. Let us rejoice for we overcame the evils that humanity is known for.

[He lowers his gaze.]

I know naught of you or the horrors you faced but mark my words--I won't have you face them for a second time. These words are not empty.

[A sigh follows.]

I shall take my leave of you. A healer has no time to squander when the ailing has need of her. My sincerest condolences to you and yours.

[fleurdesel]

...

[ He doesn't even have the grace to let her throw him out. How terribly rude. She is the wronged party here and he just-

He's going to walk out without so much as a-

He's being CIVIL. He's not supposed to be civil he's supposed to bluster and demand and yell and brandish his sword till she paralyzes him and moves their tent somewhere else. Not. Be reasonable. ]

...if anything happens to my charges while we are here I am holding you accountable.

[ There. It is not the last word, it's not the word she wishes to have- but it will be on his head. ]

[equanimiti]

[The Maker jests.

It seems that life here at Skyhold promises to be troublesome at best for the chivalrous Knight-Commander. Sauveterre isn't too certain how he weather such a storm brewing here but he'll try. All this man can do is try to exceed the expectations of those who hate and loathe him. That is all.

With that known to him, Sauveterre rises from the ground and bows courteously. As he turns to leave he says the following.]

You may do so if the thought comforts you.

[fleurdesel]

[ Now that sounds like the templars she knew. At least some things were the same- if he persisted in being so strange, so. So reasonable she'd have thought one of them mad or possessed. The cutting condescension is almost a balm in it's familiarity.

Finding her charges would take some time- settling them a little longer still. But soon the worst has passed and they resume their work. Mending. No matter who it is that come under her hands, mage, templar, rogue- she treats them.

Stay her hand. Ha. ]