Dragon 9:41 Cassandra POV(Haven- prior to conclave explosion)
The wooden floor creaks beneath my boots as I pace back and forth inside this small shack. I hold the blank paper towards the fireplace which is my only illumination at this time. No matter how hard I try, I can't find the words that I want to say. That I want him to know.
A knock on the door startles me and I'm not prepared. I open it anyway to find him in the doorway, still stylish as ever. His long brown hair still ends at his shoulders, along with the small patch of hair on his chin. How did he keep it so neat? If only he lost that ridiculous enchanters robe he's been parading around in all night
"Ahem" he coughs and I take in his blue eyes, clear under the moonlight. "As much as I enjoy your lustful gaze, I'd prefer you do that inside, where it's warm?" he grins.
I mull his words over and this I realize that I'm blocking the doorway. I roll my eyes and step aside. "You got legs. Use them."
He steps inside and close the door. "Cassandra, I just wanted to apolo-" My mouth is already on his before he can say another word." I missed you." he moans into my mouth. He tastes of oranges and I now know the 'thief' who stole Cullen's snack but I don't care. It's been almost a year since I tasted him. The thought increases my hunger and I want to savor the moment. "My robe!" he giggles in mock horror as I slam him against the door.
"Lose it or I'll rip it off myself" I whisper into his ear. He yanks it off as if it caught on fire and we resume kissing, his hands on my waist, pulling me closer. We find ourselves in a race to see who could get the other naked first,.
The clothes lead a messy trail towards the bed where I'm straddling him as he cups my breast. Our breathing gets ragged as we fall into the rhythm I created. The more his eyes penetrate me, the faster I ride him. I bend forward to kiss him gently but he has other plans and rolls me over, and I hold on for dear life as he plunges deep into me. It's amazing how well he knows my body.
I rest my head on his chest as we lay together in the darkness. The sheets still moist from our activity. "You said you wanted to apologize" I say, lightly caressing his chest.
He strokes my hair, but doesn't say anything for awhile. "We don't have to talk about it now." He finally offers.
"Regalyan." I look up at him. The playful nature is gone, replaced by an all too familiar sullen frown.
He gingerly kiss my forehead and I lie my head back on his chest. " Where to begin?" he sighs. "I regret not accompanying you when you first left. I never expected it would grow into.." he trails off and I wait for him to continue. "I'm sorry for getting angry at you when you suggested we keep our distance. With the rebellion at it's worst, there's no telling how the Templars would view Divine Justinia if her right hand had an apostate for a lover"
I abruptly push off him, offended. His laugh calms me a little. "I don't like saying it either but without the Circle." There's no need for him to explain. Mages outside of the Circle are considered apostates and a danger to humanity. "Promise you won't be mad at me." He continues, breaking eye contact with me, something he hasn't done since the first time he told me he loved me.
His eyes dances around the room until he gathers the courage to face me again. " For the past year, I thought about you, worried about you as you looked for the Hero of Fereldan and then the Champion of Kirkwall. I was even a little jealous that those two were more of a priority than me. I heard Hawke was quite the ladies man- I'm kidding!" he chuckles after I punch him in the shoulder. "The point is, I have something that many mages in the other Circles don't: The freedom to come and go as I please. I can understand the resentment that-"
"You're having doubts about the Circle." I cut him off. Harsher than I intended.
I feel his heartbeat rise in tempo and I can feel mine rise as well. "I'm sorry. What is it?" I ask softy.
He recoils a bit but doesn't look away. "I think, some people lost the purpose of what the circle was for: To give mages a safe place to harness their magic for their protection and humanity in general. Not to treat them like second class."
"What are you saying?" I ask softly.
"The Peace Summit Divine Justinia called for must work if we want to end the Mage-Templar war." He curls his fingers around mine and kisses my hand. "That's why I agreed to come to the conclave. We need to revive the circle but reform it a little for both sides. I hope it's not too late"
"You worry too much. It will work."
"Of course beautiful. You're always right" he says, playfully kissing my forehead. "When this is over, we should consider our future. I'm ready if you are."
Warmth spreads through my chest and possibly my cheeks for it feels warmer than before. In all these years, I never thought that I would find someone who would be interested in me due to my dedication of being a Seeker and now the right hand of the Divine. Nor did I expect that I would fall in love with a Mage. The Maker works in mysterious ways.
"You'll have to come up with a better proposal than that" we laugh and he holds me tighter.
"I love you" he whispers.
"I love you too." He continues to hold me as we sleep. To think that one day we will be married, maybe even have a child. I hope it's a girl. Girls are easier to deal with but I would love a boy the same.
I dream of the wedding and living happily ever after with Regalyan, knowing one day it won't be a dream. The maker will see us through this.
Maxwell(Redcliffe)
"Cassandra?" I call out to her bewildered, struggling to break free. No use. My hands are definitely shackled behind the chair.
"Stop moving" she says, her eyes deadpan. That tone again. She hasn't spoken to me like that since the explosion. Why would she do that? Why am I shackled? It doesn't make any sense.
" Because it's not real. " A gravelly voice echoes through the room
I glance around the room again but it's only Cassandra and me. She doesn't appear bothered by the intrusion. The bed appears real. The light shining through the windows appear real. And the fireplace, and these shackles. All real.
"But where were you just moments ago? Weren't you swarmed by demons?" It continues, mocking me. " Demons who delivered the final blow that melted the flesh off of your bones?" It sounds confident. Like it knows that I am dead and is just waiting for me to realize it myself.
"No." whisper. I try to sound more convincing "No! That's not true"
"You should've killed the Qunari, 'Herald of Andraste.'. Such foolishness for you to believe that you could stand up to him, but that's besides the point. If you are so eager to believe that the room you're in is real, then be ready to be slaughtered by the Qunari!"
I don't even have time to process anything when the door opens. And the Iron Bull steps in. He's not happy. Cassandra doesn't stop him and they both advance towards me.
"These are your final moments 'Chosen One'." But it's the quiet laughter that gets under my skin because it doesn't stop. It keeps getting louder.
I summon every muscle in my body to propel out of the chair but it's no use. They're too close now. I'm begging them to go away, eyes shut. Large hands grip my skull, telling me to open my mouth. Never. I won't let them cut off my tongue.
I kick the Qunari blindly with all my might and he doubles over. I kick him again and he backs away. I can do this.
"Alright that's enough!" a woman besides me yell before she slaps me across the face. Not a forceful slap, but one made to get my attention."Look at me," she says softly. I know that voice. She shares the dialect of my homeland in Ostwick.. The same voice that teased that I was adopted by either the Dwarves or the Qunari because of my deeper tone, far from the polite elegance of my people.
Her complexion is lighter than mine, but even with the large tangle of brown hair obscuring her face, we have the same eyes. "Amelia?" I ask?
"So you haven't gone completely mad at least, yeah?" she holds a strange concoction towards my lips. "Drink."
I obey. It's an awful taste of green apple and sewage water but I swallow it down, gagging at the end. Meanwhile, she's tagging at my bandaged torso- That I am just noticing for the first time- revealing three grotesque scratches that were recently treated.
"I knew it," Amelia brushes her glowing hand near my wound, tending to a rash of purple hives that are now visible. Without any explanation, she tends to the wounds until the hives dissipates.
You were cursed by a hallucination hex," she continues. "It doesn't take effect immediately, but it slowly distorts your perception of reality. The greater amount of trauma you experience throughout the window period determines the severity of the distortion."
I nod a few times before breaking away to look at Cassandra. "What did I do?"
Cassandra folds her arms. "You attacked the Magister, screaming that he should be dead. You then lashed out at Fiona and demanded that she bring Amelia here. You also had us apprehend Dorian."
That doesn't make any sense. Dorian was the one who reversed Alexius's spell and returned us to the present. I had to be out of my mind to suggest that he was somehow a traitor. Unless that too was of my imagination.
And then there's the scratch on my stomach. My thoughts on that is fuzzy. I don't remember actually being hit. I just remember being there and then waking up here.
"You say that like it's a bad thing, Seeker." Iron Bull interjects.
"I'm still not convinced that was the right move," Cassandra continues, "but with all that's happened, it was better safe than sorry." She releases me from my shackles.
I don't move. I cant stand to look at Iron Bull right now. Did he really stab himself in the neck? I don't care what the voices in my head was telling me, I SAW him stab himself.. After he tried to kill me. The iron grip he had on my neck is something I will never forget.
Why didn't Cassandra ask about my neck wound? There's only two explanations : Dorian tended to them, or it never happened. We were in a hurry after the Iron Bull "died". I didn't bother to ask Dorian about the burn I sustained...
I feel around my right thigh, feeling a slight sting.
"Let him go. He's innocent." I demand.
"Are you-"
"Yes. I need to speak with him, now."
Amelia helps me out of my chair and she's averting her gaze now, uncharacteristic of her. Almost as if she's embarrassed to be seen as a rebel mage in front of me. She should know me by now. I give her a quick squeeze and plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek. "I already knew, and I support your decision," I whisper into her ear.
I follow Cassandra's lead, mulling over the mess I created. Fiona's pleading voice becomes more coherent as we return to the main hall where we first met Alexius.
"Your Majesty, we never intended-" Fiona begins.
"I know what you intended." King Alistair cuts in. Maker, I can't believe this. King Alistair in the flesh. He's a bit shorter than what the tales suggested but wow did he have a presence. He fold his arms and lets out a pitying sigh. "I wanted to help you, but you've made it impossible. You and your followers are no longer welcomed in Fereldan."
Fiona jaw slackens. "But we have hundreds who need protection! Where will we go?"
"You can still come with us" a small voice creeps in and I realize it was me.
"And what are the terms of this arrangement?" Her face contorts into a scowl. There's no question who it was intended for.
"You don't get to be mad," I say, now irritated. "You have no idea what I witnessed because of you." I step closer.
"Is he going to be a problem?" King Alistair asked.
"No your Majesty" Cassandra and I blurt out simultaneously. I compose myself a bit but my anger has yet to simmer. "You sold out your people to Tevinter. I'm not sure if I can trust you, so this is your last chance."
"What are you saying?" She asks hesitantly.
"I'm saying this is your last chance to show you can be reliable. If we're going to work together, I need to believe you won't turn your back on us the moment trouble start.
"You're not asking us to surrender as prisoners?"
"No, but let me be clear: Amelia is no longer under your care."
A small smile curves Fiona's lips. "You will not regret giving us this chance." She leaves the castle with several with a few mages.
"I'm glad that's settled." Alistair chimes in. "You all have until sundown to evacuate." I notice that Alistair is looking at me and I attempt to hold his gaze but falter under his scrutiny, growing self conscious of the dry grime, soot and blood staining my coat. He begins to say something when his eyes tilt upwards "Leliana?" His tone less authoritative now. Friendly even.
"King Alistair " she responds. A little coolly in comparison to his warmness. When did she get here? "It's been a long time."
"Indeed it has." They're quiet for a moment. "Are you still with him?"
"Yes." It is only a guess, but I believe they are talking about the Hero of Fereldan. According to the tales, he and Leliana were an item during that time. Looks like they still are.
"Have you heard from him lately? I've written to him but I don't think my messengers were ever able to find him."
" Not since he left last year."
Alistair frowns but straightens up immediately. "I see. Well if you hear from him, please tell him that I'm sorry... And that I miss him." He breaks away to address us all. "May the Maker ensure you a safe travel" and he excuses himself, leaving his guards to supervise us.
That was...weird. I always wondered what happened during their Journey but Leliana seldom talked about anything that involved the Warden or Alistair. Or really anything for that matter.
Maybe she'll be more open to talk after the breach is closed.
(Haven)
I decided to accept the Mages as equals and have gotten shit for it all the way back from Haven. Mainly from Cassandra and the Iron Bull, and now from Cullen who has been raving for over a minute now. Cassandra and the other advisors field his wrath but I can barely hear him at this point.
As much as I can't stand him I can't help but stare. Maybe it's the blonde hair or the swishy motions he makes with his hand, but he seems very similar to King Alistair...
What an impression that was to meet the King for the first time in person, only to be told to 'get the hell off his property.' He asked Leliana about the Hero of Fereldan and looked momentarily distraught at her response but quickly dropped the subject.
Needless to say, he wanted nothing to do with me or the rebel Mages who were now homeless and forced to accept our terms. No matter how powerful Mages are, they wouldn't survive without a place of refuge.
Cassandra's suggestions to place them under careful restriction made sense, given what happened. She told me not to allow my judgment to be skewed because Amelia is a rebel Mage, but I still would have made the choice even if she wasn't.
How many times will these Circles rise and fall before we realize that the system we implemented is broken? Mages are ripped from their families the moment their powers are discovered at a young age and thrown into schools with others. Constantly being told that they're different from normal people, that they're dangerous to society so they can't be given the same rights. And after being force fed those realities, they have to undergo a trial with their lives at stake, Templars ready to kill them should they fail the trial.
"What else is there to explain, Cullen?" I snap. "We need them to close the Breach."
"I know we need them for the Breach, but they could do as much damage as the Demons themselves!" Cullen responds, turning his attention to Cassandra. "You were there Seeker. Why didn't you intervene?"
"I still don't fully agree with it, but I support his decision." She says, giving me a nod of approval. "The task was to recruit the Mages and he did"
"But-"
"Your point has been made," I cut him off. "This is their chance to prove themselves. If they turn out to be unworthy then you'll have the right to constrict them yourself." Where did all of that come from? That was the firmest I've ever been, but I'm not finished. I turn my attention to the rest. "The most important thing is what's supposed to happen if we fail: The assassination of Empress Celene, and an Army of Demons led by someone called 'The Elder One.' That future must never happen. We're going to need a lot of Lyrium. I know someone that could give us a nice surplus.
"You mean a smuggler," Josephine muses.
I flash her a smile "I'm sure you can find a more diplomatic title."
She rolls her eyes. "Just keep it under the table. I'll do what I can to quiet any rumors."
"Oh. Before I forget," Leliana chimes in, "We have a representative of 'The Red Jenny's' by the name of Sera. My agents have already completed a thorough investigation of her. Quite the colorful character. Speak with her when you get the chance. Maker knows what stories Varric has put in her head by now.
I nod and excuse myself to the bathing area, forgetting my request for Leliana to begin her background check on Dorian. I'm sure she's already on it, with him being from Tevinter after all. She can worry about that. I'll worry about the Mages, Sera, Dorian, Amelia... No. Right now, I need quiet. Right now, I need to bathe.
Dragon 9:40 Cullen POV( Kirkwall Gallows)
First Echanter Orsinio, a man who once fought beside Commander Meredith and the Champion against the Arishok is now dead. Slain by the Champion after he used blood magic to turn into an abomination.
And now... The Champion has decided to challenge the Templars in a war where there would be no winners.
Who would've thought that the same man who helped to end the Qunari takeover in Kirkwall would be the same cause for it's destruction just a few years later?
Dismissing the jokes he made at my expense, I never had a problem with him. He helped my investigation regarding the missing Templar recruits and returned one safely to us.
Meredith, however, never cared much for the Champion . She made that clear a few times when he smuggled himself in Kirkwall by the skin of his teeth, but never saw him as a threat.
He was only known as Hawke back then. A man who was constantly up to mischief with his younger sister, dwarven sidekick and sketchy pirate girlfriend. That same girlfriend who turned out to be the cause of the Arishok's presence to begin with.
It was when he became known as "The Champion" that Meredith began to see him as a threat due to his rising influence.
Looking at him now, as he march towards our army with his companions and fellow Mages, he's no longer the wise cracking, promiscuous ladies man that the Guard Captain occasionally babysat, but a man who may incite a war that none of us are ready for. He must be arrested.
I'm not even sure why I continue to call him the Champion at this point. Letting the apostate escape unharmed after what he did is not worthy of the title. Grand cleric Elthinia was respectful to all of us, and the Chantry was always a safe place for me to go for prayers when I needed. I hope her death was painless.
Meredith sets her cold gaze towards the Mage sympathizer. "And here we are, Champion, at long last"
He doesn't respond immediately. Despite his confidence, his eyes fall on the Elf that once stood with him but is now on our side. "You'll pay for what you've done here," he retorts, finally looking at her.
"I will be rewarded for what I've done here, In this world, and the next! I have done nothing but perform my duty. What happens to you now is your own doing. You are no Mage, but in supporting them you've elected to share their fate."
"Knight-Commander," I interject, "I thought we intended to arrest the champion"
"You will do as I command, Cullen" she demands.
"No. I defended you when Thrask started whispering you were mad. But this is too far."
"I will not allow for insubordination! We must stay true to our path!" She aims her blade in my direction. A blade forged of Red Lyrium.
I back away from her. This is madness! She has truly gone mad.
"You recognize it, do you not? Pure lyrium, taken from the Deep Roads. The Dwarf charged a great deal for his prize"
"The idol nearly poisoned Bartrand's mind in the end" Hawke says, not moving a muscle.
"He was weak, whereas I am not!" she retorts, waving that wretched sword towards our men, ordering them to exterminate the champion. I can't allow this.
"Enough! This is not what the Order stands for. Knight-Commander, step down. I relieve you of your command!"
She begins to spout outlandish accusations of me falling prey to blood magic, calling us cowards. When no one steps to her side, she focuses her blade on the Champion.
"You'll have to get through me first"
"Idiot boy," she snarls. "Just like all the others"
With the blade, she summons monstrosities, poised to kill everyone in the battlefield as she relentlessly targets the Champion.
"Our priority is to stop Meredith!" I command, making my next words loud enough for everyone to hear. "Do not engage the Champion, his companions or the Mages unless they attack you first! "
This is my only warning to both sides. Anyone foolish enough to ignore it will have only themselves to blame.
Meredith's creatures are overwhelmed as her blades fail to penetrate the Champion. I take this opportunity to flank her but she knocks him back long enough to summon a grotesque life-like soldier bearing her face and physique, only made of stone.
The stoned soldier makes a dash for the Mages that have no doubt been stripped of their abilities due to Merediths Templar training that has been amplified by the red lyrium. Bethany and the elven girl are the only ones able protect themselves as the other Mages are slaughtered.
My men become overwhelmed by our own stone soldiers that Meredith tosses our way, some crushed to death under the massive weight.
"Attack the Warden next!" Meredith yells through ragged breaths, still trading blows with the Champion, who technique is beginning to slip as he glances around him.
I parry away a fatal blow meant for him and he scrambles towards his sister. A warden? When did that happen?
The elf knight also makes his way towards the Champion, raising his sword...towards the Champion!
Two bolts punctures his wrist , one through his neck and he staggers forward.
His body slams to the ground as the Champion kneels towards him, bewildered and panicked.
Meredith turns my attention towards her and the last I hear from the Champion is a stifle cry for his former ally, as blood continues to stain the Gallows.
Meredith's blood lust increases as her body glows in a matching fashion. Her increased stamina and durability grows too much for me alone. The last blow obliterated my shield to shreds and I fall down.
She raises her blade over me and becomes immobilized. The stone soldiers disintegrate as Meredith crystallizes into a statue.
I stand to my feet and face a solemn Hawke, and companions. All poised to attack.
I look at the remainder of my men. There's enough of us to overpower them but the amount of lives potentially lost to arrest this one man is not worth the risk. We'd have to kill them, which was exactly why I opposed Meredith to begin with.
I signal my men to sheathe their weapons. "Leave while you still can," I say. Not as an order but they obey nonetheless.
Kirkwall have gained enough dead bodies for the night. Meredith and an elf named Fenris were the last two to be claimed tonight.
Dorian(Haven)
Alas the Breach is closed, and now the Herald's popularity can rival Empress Celene's pillow fluffer. It's amazing what happens when you not only survive an explosion, but gain magical abilities after.
I can see why they are in full worship for Andraste now and the Divine. Unfortunately the masses are misinformed. the Divine is actually a male. At least that's the belief in Tevinter.
Besides the little flare of scandal added to my dossier, Tevinter is like that big bad wolf to the majority of Thedas. It's a bit humorous to hear of such criticism from fellow Mages.
To those outside , they can only imagine a society filled with Mages ruling over elven slaves. That may be true but there's more to Tevinter than the elven slaves that give me foot massages after an afternoon stroll from my kitchen to the bedroom.
We do have the typical Mages that vie for supremacy within the Magisterium. They play their own version of the game where power, family, sex, and death are expected. Just like Orlais, we just look better doing it.
We have the Laetans who are the late bloomer Mages. They go their whole life as second class until they accidental burn the sheets during a late night rendezvous while their parents are away.
We have the Altus, those believed to be descendants of Magisters that could speak to old gods. I am technically what one would call an Altus but that's just tradition trying to piggy back off of my stellar abilities. Taking credit for my wit and charm would be beyond their comprehension anyways.
Then we have the non mages or what we would call the "Soporati." Unlike in Fereldan or Orlais, families here are praying that their children do have magical abilities. They general work as merchants or some other role of service and can own land. The mages are the ones with the real power though.
Finally we have the slaves, who also get into the spirit of class-ism and nobility.
Despite popular belief, blood magic is not common with us. It's just less scandalous. I don't personally see a problem with blood magic as long as the proper precautions are made.
That's one area where my fellow brethren and I differ, but then again I've become a pariah to everything that a good Tevinter Mage of my standing would represent.
Yet here I am as a representative of Tevinter on my shoulders. My ancestors would be proud.
I wonder how long before I make myself a pariah here as well? The constant stares and whispers. They probably aren't fond of me, but I wouldn't either if I didn't look this gorgeous. They're being awfully civil tonight but almost everyone is civil during a party.
Varric was the only person I talked to throughout the trip to close the breach.
I have discussed a great deal about magic and spirits with Solas but he disappeared not long after we closed the breach. Something about magical ruins. An excursion I much rather be doing. Word is, he has returned.
I catch a glimpse of Solas leaving the Tavern. Or is the healer's house? All of these shacks lack any originality.
"How were the spirits?" I ask.
His tone is somewhat curt. "Free, intelligent living creatures like always." It may be the snow, but he looks rather serious for someone who has a great interest in spirits and the fade.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing" That's what his mouth says but his eyes say something different, and it has nothing to do with snow. Could he still be upset about the misunderstanding we had earlier?
"Solas, have I offended you?"
"If you have , why would it concern you?"
"Because we're here working together for a common cause, and because I respect your abilities."
"My ability as a Mage."
"Well, I... realize there's more to you than that."
"The differences between us are not technicalities to be discarded, Dorian. If you'll excuse me,I have something to discuss with the spymaster." He's off before I can apologize. I didn't mean to offend him. I was just trying to find some common ground with him.
In my homeland, we keep spirits as servants. They're amorphous constructs of the fade and can be made into many tangible and magical things. For example, a spirit that opens doors to whoever steps foot within two feet. We even train them to recognize faces to keep out the riff raff.
Feeling more like a pariah than I would like, I take shelter inside their poor excuse for a Tavern. It's packed and no one bats an eye towards my entrance. I see a blonde dwarf and a man in desperate need of a trim. The Dwarf name was easier to remember as he liked to hear himself talk just as much as I do. I can't quite remember the other one. What was his name? Blackfence? Darkwall? No matter, they're the only people I know so I make my way over.
Varric is the first to speak. "There you are Sparkler. You're just in time. Grab a mug, take a load off."
"Sparkles?" I roll my eyes but sit down. "Is that really my nickname for the group?"
"If it makes you feel better, the other mage is called 'Chuckles.' You more than earned this nickname."
This got a chuckle out of me. I mean can Solas even laugh? Is he capable of such a thing? I look over and see the hairy man was not amused. He gets to his feet grumbling about Warden business with the Commander, says goodbye to Varric and gives me an insincere nod.
"Please don't tell me his name is 'Happy'?" I say after he leaves.
Varric chokes on his drink as he laughs. "Now Sparkler" he begins gaining his composure, "I have never met a happier pers-" he starts laughing again. His laughing is contagious and I find myself laughing as well, feeling more relaxed.
"I still think you're wrong about the Herald" Varric begins. "There is no way on the Makers grave that he will have sex with Cassandra."
"You didn't see the way he looked at her back at the camp."
"I bet you 10 Royals they will never happen. The day they get together is the day hell freezes over. "
"So if I polish up on my ice techniques and freeze over hell, would I still win?"
Varric silently takes another swig but I know smugness when I see it. Very well then. Perhaps the Herald could use some persuasion. I leave my mug with him. Hopefully he'll blackout on the rare occasion my hunch is wrong.
I head outside and hear the worst chorus imaginable. It's coming from the campfire at the center.
I see the Herald huddled up with his cousin, arm draped around her shoulder. He's singing at the top of his lungs and appears piss drunk. Amelia looks happy as well.
The Qunari and his friends surround the Herald, and he seems to be leading the song. He should be tried for verbal assault and attempted death by ear infection. They all should.
Yet here I stand, watching them. Watching him.
Smiling looks good on the Herald. He should try it more. I mean... Not saying I fancy him or anything. Just that he...would be more charming if he smiled a bit.
I should be there too, but would they want me? I stand motionless, unable to decide what to do.
This must be a Qunari song. I've never heard something more outrageous. So dreadful...
Now I find myself humming to it.
Enough excuses. It's a party after all and I always make parties interesting. They should be thankful I want to go down there.
I take a deep breath and glance at the night sky as fiery arrows rain through the village.
