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

[equanimiti]

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.

[quietblade]

[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.]

[equanimiti]

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.

[quietblade]

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.

[equanimiti]

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.

[quietblade]

[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.

[equanimiti]

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.

[quietblade]

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.