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

"What was what part like? The battle of Denerim was the end of a long, wild adventure." An eager audience, enraptured by his tale? Is someone Zevran is more than pleased to indulge. "It would take quite a while to get through all of it and is best told with a warm meal and full tankard. Perhaps after we are finished her you might join me?"

Smooth, Zevran. There's the smooth.

Gorse was already rather enraptured by just the possibility of it.

"Oh, gosh, if you aren't too busy or got other plans, that'd be fantastic!" Of course he'd have to clean up first he was sort of up to his elbows in dirt and all, and he'd have to grab his cleaner shirt, but then...!

"No, this is how I spend my time in the evenings. Playing songs to telling tales. Having an engaged audience for this would be quite lovely." A fine way to spend a night, telling Gorse the tale of the fifth blight.

"Well I'd absolutely love to. ... I should, uh, probably wash up a bit first. Find a clean shirt. Can I meet you somewhere?" Gorse's evening plans had just been work until there was no light left and then sleep and wake up early to see if there was any other work to be done or another scouting mission to go on, the chance to hear about this exciting story that apparently literally everyone else knew was a real treat.

"The Herald's Rest. It is where I spend my evenings, unless you wish to walk with me there? We can meet back here if you like after I have taken some time to freshen up." Comb the hair, wear clean clothing, make certain he smells nice.

"I ain't got a set place, just throw my bedroll down wherever there's some room really." Gorse figured he'd try to find a spot with more permanent lodgings when Skyhold was more repaired. As it was, there was no problem sleeping out under the stars as long as it didn't rain. "I'm fine with whatever you prefer, I'm easy."

So that begged the question, of course - did it count as an innuendo if it was clear that Gorse had absolutely no idea it could be taken as one?

"That seems to be the way of things, here." He crackled a laugh. Everyone staking out what ground they can to rest. Not all that different from a Cell of Crows in Antiva.

Oh the innocent Innuendo. One day he will make certain Gorse is aware what it is does when he says such things. One day. "Here, perhaps? An illicit meeting in the garden has such romance about it, don't you think?"

"Does it?" Gorse asked curiously, looking around the garden. The garden-to-be. He imagined it would probably be more habitable when it was all cleaned up nice, even if he didn't mind the potential it had being as overgrown as it was. Maybe Zevran liked the work too though. He finished clearing out a nice little area around where Zevran was planting and patted his hands off on his trousers. Those were also getting pretty dirty, but not as bad as his shirt. It'd ... probably be fine.

Standing, he held a hand out to Zevran in case he needed help up as well. "Alright, clean up then meet back here, yeah?"

"So most of the stories tend to go, yes." Two houses by circumstance divided or some such nonsense. He hadn't read much of that particular book. Too soon after Rinna and not enough time with the Blight going on. Perhaps he should go back and pick it up again.

Zevran took the hand offered and used it to pull himself up, well into Gorse's space to peer at him through his eyelashes. Surely THIS would signal some interest for him, yes? "I look forward to seeing you."

There was the vague suggestion of it before it was quickly dismissed as being silly - Gorse was a 'qunari' (Vashoth, the correction time and time again) and that generally inspired fear and wariness. This must just be Zevran's particular brand of friendly? That made more sense.

"Same! I'll be quick as I can - oh, but, you take your time with your injured arm and all." The last part was said with great concern as Gorse fetched his shirt and pack - though he didn't bother putting the shirt back on since it was going to need to be taken off to be washed anyway.

He did so hate to have Gorse leave, but Maker if watching him walk away wasn't some manner of treat. Mm. Such shoulders. What a trim waist. What..a cheerful disposition.

Skyhold

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