A touch of cold to the day's wind is becoming more prominent as evident by the snow falling at a greater rate, temperatures dropping drastically, and people already preparing their third pair of socks stuffed with paper. Naturally, at this time of the season, everything must be stocked to the brim; food, wood, clothing. The cold alone could kill a person in their sleep, and some weapons are even susceptible to break under these freezing conditions.

Thankfully, the Inquisition and the amount of support they are gaining by the minute will ensure that everyone in their group will be ready for when the worst of winter is to come. Sadly, to say that the same will occur for everyone else in Thedas is nothing short of a blissful hope, no matter how many prayers the mothers and sisters of the Chantry would send to them. And in disastrous times, struggling people will only find themselves further down the cliff. War that has inevitably destroyed both homes and families alike, more and more people are under threat of the coming season. Time was growing shorter for those who are making a desperate effort to put together preparations in order to survive the entire winter.

The matter was brought up once by Josephine, recommending that they should extend a helping hand to the people worried about the incoming cold. Somehow, Leliana was not surprised to hear that Arturia has already thought ahead during their last talk and before the latter departed to Storm Coast, the blonde had asked Leliana personally if she could have her spies look out for any particular farms within the vicinity of Haven - those out in the wilderness and those who are living in something that is less than "luxury," and to keep note of them so to have a bounty of supplies ready to deliver at the doorsteps of those farms and homes.

A tactical move to win more of the hearts of Thedas' populous? At this point of her career, the redheaded spymaster will not put it aside her, but she also does not denounce that the young and noble knight, for all of her cold calculations and borderline ruthless dispatching of her enemies, holds a heart so kind that it was honestly moving to witness firsthand. Most would have their humanity abandoned after enduring war and death, or at best, hardened themselves so that they were strong enough to resume their duties for the sake of something. Arturia was undoubtedly hardened, and yet, her sense of compassion was not so subtle as Leliana is sure that knight would have secretly preferred, even if the knight had buried that compassion deeply underneath that hardened outer layer. It is a great level of humanization if Leliana has ever seen one in her years considering the nature of her work.

Some, she hears, call it unnatural or "inhuman." A negative retort against Arturia, no doubt an attempt to ruin her, or simply a matter of gossip going awry. It works to think that Arturia is the Herald of Andraste, but the issue is that people actually fear this "divine-like entity" rather than see her as something to trust in. That certainly will not do, and Leliana once talked to Josephine about this. The Antivan agreed and seeks to correct this in the near future, though other important matters come first.

It is almost rather sad really, even for all that the Inquisition has done - what Arturia has done - people will still find any reason to de-humanize her. "Nothing so perfect can exist as a human!" They say!

To Leliana, she believes that the world is far too broken to beg for something else. The advisers certainly have no complaints about their Herald's performance thus far.

Perhaps, that line of reasoning is why Divine Justinia had perished? Too good for this world, that they should be sent to the Maker's kingdom immediately? It is a touching sentiment, yet a cruel one for those who are left with the grief.

Leliana is aware of her wavering faith, ever since the Divine's death and everything that came from it; the Conclave's destruction, the war between Mages and Templars raging on, and a whole host of other ills seen and yet to be seen. "Is it truly the will of the Maker?" She hears from others. "Has he forsaken us?"

Those questions grew quieter by the day once Arturia had walked into the view of the world, with her righteous ideals paired with prodigious experience. Evidently, after Leliana's talk with Josephine, she too found a reason to believe that the Maker had truly not left them, or else they would have been left to burn. A sound logic, but also hope to keep a hold of.

As the spymaster walks around the camp, the presence of mages more apparent than ever since Vivienne's arrival, she catches the sight of a man assessing his surroundings and everything that accompanies it. 'Ah, there he is.' Leliana was looking to meet him.

Warden Blackwall. The only Grey Warden to have been discovered. Though Arturia had sent word that he was as lost to suggest the whereabouts of the other Wardens before his arrival, perhaps Leliana could uncover something.

And, well, who is she to avoid conversing with the esteemed member of the esteemed group a dearest friend is the commander of?

"Warden-Constable Blackwall?"

The man's body stiffens at her call, stopping his walk and turns to her. "That'd be me. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"A small conversation, hopefully, I can ensure that it won't be a boring one," Pleasantries danced in Leliana's voice as she converses, "I am Sister Leliana. I work with the Inquisition and handle...behind the scene matters and such."

He didn't seem to catch her drift, nodding simply. "You already know who I am, I take it that you were expecting my arrival? I've just turned up and haven't made myself familiar with your camp yet. Do you need anything from me? I'll do whatever I can to help, even if it's heavy lifting."

Humble and quite a smooth talker, Leliana notes. Qualities of a good man, yet also one who prefers not to give too much of himself - personal details and the like.

"The Inquisition is always appreciative to anyone coming forth and offers any assistance," Leliana walks across his side, joining his leisurely walk. "For now, I can have one of the soldiers here guide you to your tent you can rest in. I'm sure it's been a long journey for you to walk all the way here. I'll warn you beforehand that the rooms we have are scarce, with so many people coming to us faster than we can prepare ourselves for them."

"No need to worry," Blackwall assures. "I'm not some prissy, spoiled child who cries about having his golden spoon dented. Us Wardens are tougher than anyone else. We'll live through anything, as long as we can get the job done, even if it's to sleep out in the cold."

Leliana draws a smile, "Fortunately, we can at least provide shade and fire. So that's one good point to our otherwise humble abode."

The Warden coughs, "It...seems I have misspoken. Forgive me m'lady, I did not mean in the way that I said. I'm sure, and trust as I do, that you treat all your people with the best of your generosity. You didn't even have to welcome me so kindly, as I'm sure you, and a lot of other people, are wondering where the other Wardens are if you've been searching for us."

"And good of you to bring it up," Leliana thanks. "I understand that the Wardens do not involve themselves in affairs outside their duties, yet it is strange that they have quietly retracted themselves from any connections while matters here are as troubling as it is. I mean no offense, of course. I admire the Wardens greatly, and so do a number of people. Curiosity can't be helped, with the world under threat, but I can have faith that perhaps there is something else that's keeping the Wardens preoccupied. Do you happen to know what that might be?"

Blackwall looks straight ahead, focused - yet, a common trait that avoids eye-contact and direct answering. Perhaps there are things that cannot be disclosed to those outside the Wardens. "Can't say that I do, I'm afraid. As I'm out recruiting, I could go months or even years without hearing anything from my superiors or the other Wardens. I don't really know anything beyond guessing, I'm sorry."

"No need for apologies. You're not at fault here, and I'm sure the Wardens must have their reasons," Leliana says, though rather disappointed. It seems they are right back to square one.

"If I may add, I know that it looks bad that the Wardens have been absent while everything's going to shit, but they'd help if they could," Blackwall suddenly speaks. "They - we don't just sit on our hands, I'm proof of that. You may not have an army of them, but you have me, and if one Warden is enough to cut down any rumors of cowardice, I'll welcome the challenge."

"And we appreciate it greatly," The redhead states, though she found his words of nobility to be...off. While it surely seems excessive that the Wardens have seemingly erased any trace of themselves and ignore this "end of the world" scenario that has befallen Thedas yet again, generally the Wardens are known to have matters kept to themselves and their inner workings - all in all great warriors who would lay down their lives for their understandably long-term goal. Yet Blackwall spoke otherwise, that they have integrated their efforts into society, political matters and such. A matter of personal opinion?

"I know of the sacrifices the Wardens have endured to keep the people of Thedas safe, perhaps they are still in recovery since the Blight ten years ago," Leliana openly thinks to herself. "While their deeds may have been forgotten by most, I certainly haven't. I was there when the Fifth Blight happened and knew Alistair and Aedan. Are you acquainted with them?"

She looks his way, just in the nick of time.

It is brief, but she caught onto it. A dash of realization, followed by an unease. "No I...well, I may have heard of them on passing. But I can't say I knew them personally or that well..." He intakes a faint breath, "You've met - known Wardens then?"

'Hm. That's peculiar...' Leliana hides her wily thoughts behind her sweet mask, seeing Blackwall becoming strangely anxious. "I have." She answers, and decides to test something about this strange Warden, "I've even met with the Warden-Commander. A noble and fine man, wouldn't you say? How is he these days?"

"Ah, yes, the Warden-Commander. Yes, he's been doing well. Strict, but good man," He answers, suspiciously without even giving the name of the current Warden-Commander.

She subtly and gently pushes to confirm her rising skepticism. "A shame that he suffered a terrible injury, but thankfully, Warden-Commander Oghren is not one to let a simple injury stop him from performing his duties if one lost foot won't be enough to keep a man like him from pulling out his greatsword."

Blackwall laughs, "Yes, that's our commander alright. We should all follow his example if we ought to be as bold and honorable as he is."

Leliana grins at him. 'He has absolutely no idea what I'm talking about.'

Oghren isn't a Warden-Commander, he never wielded a greatsword but an ax, and furthermore, he is a dwarf - no mention to correct this as Blackwall simply nods in agreement. And to follow the dwarf as an example? Oghren was a berserker who spends his days getting drunk, and if he wasn't drunk, he was getting to it. Even if honor is something Oghren no doubt holds close to his chest, he is the last person to exemplify the role of nobility - crude and wasted would be the correct terms, even though his past would suggest that he suffers these traits understandably so, and to Blackwall's credit, Oghren was a noble. Was a noble, before he was exiled anyhow.

It is clear enough that Blackwall does not know Oghren in the slightest. Nor who the current Warden-Commander is, to begin with. What Warden would be so disconnected from their own group? What Warden would outright lie about it?

"Well, if you ever happen to be in contact with your fellow men, please let us know." Leliana spots a solider and calls for him. Requesting that he guide Blackwall to the nearest available tent. "We're happy to have you with us, constable. Please have the time to settle in. Oh, and if the chance presents itself that you meet with your fellow members, do send Warden Riordan my regards."

"Will do, m'lady. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Leliana watches him be escorted by the soldier to the tent, her true feelings never showing, a nice smile sending him his way as she relays his answer. There is no correction, no counter, he simply obliged. Truly, what an out of touch Warden, she muses to herself, for him to so politely agree to send her regards to a dead man.

Calmly, she walks to the nearest post, where a scout was waiting by. At their unspoken discretion, Leliana whispers to the scout, "Keep a close eye to our new recruit: that man over there. Do not let yourself be discovered. Inform me of anything he has done throughout the day. Do not let anyone know of your mission."

There is no vocal or physical confirmation, just as Leliana prefers. The scout then silently and calmly goes after the "Warden," keeping distance, and keeping track of the target.

In the unlikeliness that their "Warden" is, in fact, an amnesiac warrior with the kept properties of a true Warden, then their army of one Warden may in fact actually be an army of none.


A light, upbeat tune dances in the Singing Maiden Tavern, sung by the bard woman Maryden Halewell, who continues to captivate her audience and drinkers within the tavern. Vivienne sits at the bar in patience for the drink she ordered, noting the impressive soft yet powerful vocals of Maryden.

'She could surpass most of the bards in Val Royex,' Vivienne acknowledges the talents of the bard. 'A bit more practice and she would be invited to perform at every party there.'

Vivienne decides to keep a note of the singer, on the off chance that she is able to recommend the woman for when she is invited to celebrations and other occasions. At this moment, her drink finally arrives, delivered by the owner of this establishment; Flissa.

"Finding everything to your liking, Madam de Fer?"

Vivienne takes a delicate sip from the scuffed mug, "It's all very charming, and a fine tavern you have, Lady Flissa. Especially your bard; that voice of hers could have her take all of Thedas by storm if she continues to hone her talents." She might even offer a request to have Val Royex best teacher to spread that maturing bird's wings and fly high.

"Maryden would be flattered to hear that. I keep telling her she has what it takes, but the girl likes singing songs to a small crowd like this one, the sort of girl who wants to lift the spirits of those who don't have much, rather than explore and live in absolute fame."

"Nothing wrong with being a little pampered by luxury, but if that's her decision, I won't say otherwise," Vivienne says after a second sip then sets down her mug. "So, word around is that the Herald comes here often, and mingles with the people. Even though I've only ever met her in person once, she impressed me greatly, but I unfortunately only know so little of her. I haven't really the chance to converse her since our last talk a good while ago. Tell me, what is she like?"

Taught by experience and honed by practice, Vivienne knows well to carefully tread when asking for any materials about a person not in proximity - rumors, gossips, and the like. Of course, she knows how to take into consideration if any story is an exaggeration or not, but in any event, it never hurts to consider. Still, she is fascinated with the noble knight and the idea that someone as young as her to keep a brave front in both public and in battle. Vivienne would be aside herself to not know more about a peculiar individual, especially one that interests her and Thedas as a whole so.

Flissa brings out a damp rag, cleaning the counters with it as she answers the Circle mage, "Can't say I know her as personally as, say, the people who travel with her and the advisers like Lady Josephine and Commander Cullen. But I've had a chat with her before she went off to Storm Coast." It is with a moment of hesitation that Flissa allowed Arturia to sit at the bar considering her age, but with how mature the Herald was at that moment, Flissa didn't believe there was a reason to worry - that and, well...it's the Herald of Andraste.

"She mainly occupied herself with conversing the customers here, one time I even witnessed them offering a drinking contest - shut them off right then!" Herald or no, Flissa has her responsibility to keep drunks from making a mess and ruining her business, and she would rather not have had a drunk teen passed out on her counter.

"It was telling though that she wanted to get familiar with all the people here. Wasn't the least bit nervous, and always well-mannered. People have been saying how ruthless she is on the battlefield, and while I can't say it's easy to imagine, she definitely had eyes that showed no fear. But she's a kind girl, and people all around are always talking about her nobility and honor. There've even been some in this tavern calling her the Knight Princess, or Princess of Knights."

"Hmph." Vivienne huffs behind her thoughtful smirk. From the mage's recollection of Arturia's introduction to her, the girl was more of a prince than a princess.

"I can tell that she's a serious sort, always direct too, but she's friendly enough for her to approach people. Though..."

Vivienne waits patiently for the owner to answer.

"...Sometimes I get the feeling that her behavior isn't one that's been taught to her. A lot of us have been wondering where she came from, and there's some that say that even the generals here haven't a clue. But I can tell you this, for someone who isn't afraid to raise her sword, she must have not lived a simple life. In fact, for her to share her sympathies with everyone and lift them up as if she can understand the pain, I might bet that she has her own fair share of losses, though it's a guess of what those losses are."

'Interesting...' Vivienne thinks to herself. It is fairly telling that Arturia had some harsh experiences in her lifetime for her to easily shoulder the burden of the people's hopes and hatred of her enemies. Though, who can say if it is that easy for her? Aside from that, but it seems the Herald's past is particularly elusive. That seems to suggest that Arturia has had a secluded homestyle, but the mannerisms that she displayed at the Ghislain Estate was something only nobles would carry and execute, and Vivienne is certain that she would have heard of a Pendragon even before her time serving the Empress and getting to know all the august family names. Even more so, if that family had someone so skillful with a sword among them, and would have participated in the several contests hosted across Thedas such as the one that Marquis failed to be legible for. Vivienne might even say that Arturia would have likely won those contests, but that girl is unknown to even among the best swordsmen.

Arturia Pendragon is an enigma. Unknown to many if not all. Yet she knows how to fight, she knows how to socialize among nobles as if she shared their status, knows how to properly act in the face of respective individuals, and knows how to lead in a crisis as monumental as the current one invading Thedas.

A person like that, even for someone so young, would have been to die for among several groups here in Thedas; a family name that should have been known years prior.

'My dear Sir Arturia...I wonder who you are?'

An abrupt amount of voices suddenly comes into the tavern. Vivienne looks behind her, a surprising sight.

A rambunctious group of what seems to be mercenaries enters the establishment, one prominent member among them is a hulking figure with bull-like horns and skin pale as ash, covered in war scars and a patch over his eye.

An Qunari? This is the first that Vivienne has ever seen one in the flesh.

"Ah, looks like the Chargers have finally come," Flissa observes accommodatingly. "They're a famous lot around these parts. Apparently, the Herald had just hired them to fight for the Inquisition, you might be seeing them around here often. Have you heard of Bull's Chargers Madam de Fer?"

Of course. Especially in a city as bustling with gossip and intrigue as Val Royeaux is, did snippets of the feats of the Chargers reach there. Yet, Vivienne finds it strange how this group suddenly shows up one day, especially that Qunari among them.

"I'm actually not that quite familiar with them," She feigns ignorance. She sets down her mug and stands from her stool, "But if it is true that they're also part of the Inquisition, perhaps I should get acquainted with them."

If the rumors are true that this qunari may have connections to the inner workings of the Qun itself, then what is Vivienne to do but delve into this individual for further detail? He is apparently giving his services to Arturia dearest, after all.


The Chargers walk to a table, gathering in a discussion of the tavern they've entered. "Hm. Not a bad place, at least until we get drunk. So Chargers, what kind of drink are you up for?"

"The strongest they have, chief," Krem suggests. "It's a celebration for getting the Inquisition to accept your hideous arse."

"True. But don't forget that my hideous ass represents all of us," the Iron Bull laughs. "Alright! It's decided. Bartender! A gallon of your best alcohol! I want to make sure I leave here with a headache tomorrow like I got my skull split open by an ax."

One of the Chargers, Stitches, taps with his fist against Iron Bull's arm, then directing his attention to an approaching woman. Iron Bull looks, and knew at a glance, that the woman approaching them in her regal mage apparel and an atmosphere of power and intelligence about her, is a woman not to be trifled with. 'This should be interesting...'

"Good day to you all," Eloquence swirls in the woman's tone as she greets the Chargers. "You must be the new recruits I've recently heard about. I am Vivienne. Enchanter to the Imperial Court of Orlais."

'Ah shit.' It is even worse than what Iron Bull previously thought. Well, can't keep the esteemed famous mage that was also the adviser of the Empress waiting without respect. "Pleasure to meet you. Iron Bull, at your service. We're the Chargers, if you're ever wondering where we'll be, look up any taverns like this one or on the battlefield. Chances are, you'll find us completely shit-faced. Haha!" He doesn't need to check that if his humor hasn't touched the Enchanter in some way, and instead, he introduces the men with him. "This is Rocky, Skinner. And over there is Stitches, Dalish, and Grim. I'll warn you now: they're a crazy bunch of assholes, but they're mine."

"I see," Vivienne's voice rose in pitch to emphasize the level of intrigue, though from the look of things, she really is evaluating the Chargers' state of dirt, dry blood, and grime that had her smile strain by the faintest, as if it is a sign that she's holding back the urge to order them all a bath. "Quite a unique group you are. Since we'll be working together, perhaps we should get to know each other better."

Without even waiting to hear the Chargers' acceptance to her proposal, she's already found herself a seat, waiting like a lovely bird assessing the critters from her high tower. It is then that one of the workers of the tavern arrives with a plate of drinks for the Chargers. Perfect timing, Iron Bull feels he needs to get a little tipsy before he can stand against a woman like this.

One by one, Iron Bull introduces the whole group in more depth: Krem his second in command, Rocky the Dwarven saboteur with explosive tendencies, Dalish the elven "Archer" and her crystal tipped "bow" that oddly enough looked like a staff only a mage would carry but the odd elf insists otherwise, Stitches their no-nonsense yet peculiar way of potion-making Healer, Skinner the alpha woman warrior of few words, and Grim, a mysterious man with even FEWER words to spare - not even so much as a syllable from him.

Vivienne takes to all of them rather well, or at least, if she finds them the least bit disturbing, disgusting, or unruly, she does not visibly show it, marking her reaction with a stoic and polite expression. Not so much as a blink from the strange personalities the Chargers make up.

This left Iron Bull extremely uncomfortable, though he does well to hide it, yet even so, he feels the inside of him be gently torn open under the eyes of the Enchanter. He cannot get so much as a good read on her, but can tell well enough that she is able to get a good read on him - of course, he does ensure to not show that he knows this.

After a while and mentally giving credit to the Enchanter for bearing through their quirkiness and mismatched singing, Vivienne offers small applause and finishes her drink. "Well, it's been an... informative experience getting to know you all. I should get going now, but I wish you all the best-earned victory to any fights you may encounter. And as for you, Iron Bull, I certainly hope we become more acquainted on the battlefield. Take care."

The Enchanter, having satisfied herself with whatever she was trying to achieve in this confrontation, calmly and elegantly walked away, a subtle smugness to her already smug exterior - so Iron Bull has assumed. Leaving out a hefty sigh in contrast to his Chargers hardy laugh at whatever mishap recollection Rocky had done a while ago, he attempts to chug down the entire beverage of his mug but finds it had long been empty since conversing with Vivienne.

Vivienne, the Enchanter of Orlais and rumored to be the most dangerous woman alive, no doubt is the very woman he'll be fighting alongside with for some time now.

"I need a stronger drink."


Yet another cool morning, the autumn leaves becoming more brittle as they fell from their trees, the taste of frost in the wind.

Arturia and her companions travel to return to Haven after their successful siege of the fort and the recruiting of the Bull's Chargers. Their earned treasures being pulled along in a carriage by their fellow soldiers, understandably, everyone is already worn out from their long travel, yet to their uplifting feelings, so many are about to return and look forward to sending their loved ones letters of reassurance.

It is a fulfilling sense for Arturia to see to these men come back safely. Despite the ideals she holds close to her chest, she is a realist deep down and knows that no soldier is guaranteed to come back alive, yet it is with that realistic point that Arturia makes it her goal to see to these men's safe return. For who is she to not guard them as they have for her and the Inquisition?

She has sent many men to their death for the greater good in her lifetime, and for so long, she kept her true expression of grief from showing, to show herself strong for the people. It is still a work in progress, yet it is a difficult habit to break free from. To show genuine feelings like that of a human - a sentiment she has abandoned since she pulled Caliburn and the price in becoming the perfect king. It can't be helped then, she decides, this upfront persona has been integrated into her, it is what she has become and how she will always be. She feels no particular remorse for this, it's not as if she would prefer breaking down crying from either sadness or joy for the lives of the people here, such indigenous scenes would be downright awkward and perhaps disturbing, to say the least.

But if there is at least a hint of emotion she can show to everyone, it is with a smile at seeing them alive.

"-and when that body just flew after that qunari hit 'im with that hammer! It went sooo far. A messy landing though, I'm pretty sure I heard more than just bones breaking, guh!" Sera recounts the event witnessed at Storm Coast, ending with a disgusted grunt that counters her hyperactive comment earlier.

"Oh and that Rift! I've never really seen one up in person, though heard stories 'bout it. Spilling out demons and all that creepy, scary stuff. And for you, Turi, to just close the thing with just your hand! I've never seen anything like it!" Sera bounces on her feet beside Arturia. "It really was somethin'. How's it feel though? Do you just...suck in the portal into your palm? You got a Rift swirling inside you or somethin'?

Arturia looks at her marked hand, searching in her mind to find the best way to describe what has been asked. "At first, it was painful. More than unpleasant, as if my whole arm would be ripped apart from the inside. But after closing a few more Rifts, I've begun to feel accustomed to it. It wasn't as painful anymore like an entire vortex was transferred into my hand. Now, it is like accepting a piece of unstable power and help it calm. A tingle of a surge before swallowing through my palm like gulping water-"

She stops at the sound of incessant scribbling from behind her, and turns her head to a certain crossbow-wielding dwarf, writing on paper and pausing when she does. Varric meets her questioning eyes of a raised singular brow, and grins shamelessly, "This stuff is gonna make me GOLD Pancakes. You think I can't write this stuff down?"

"Ugh." Cassandra disgruntles out.

"Is that all you can do with the Mark?" Sera resumes vocalizing her curiosity. "Just sucking up all these portals?"

Arturia thinks back - long back, at the beginning of this adventure so to speak - to her first fight with a Pride Demon, and how in her finishing move of a Mana Burst, energy from her marked hand swirled and expelled along with her attack, destroying the torso of that demon. "It is for now, but I believe there is more use to it than I realize. I have Solas helping me with it, and together, we might be able to uncover more power from it. I need to first learn the basics of magic-wielding, something I never thought I would do at this point in life..."

"And is Baldy over there qualified in teaching you magic stuff?" Sera asks.

"Not to worry," Solas immediately answers. "I am more than capable of teaching Arturia. In fact, I would say that I may offer better teachings than anyone within the Circle, since this is unorthodox and unfamiliar magic we are dealing with. I'm little offended that you would even doubt my teaching skills, even if you hadn't witnessed my methods as of yet. As far as I've observed, Arturia is at a point where she will be ready to wield her newly honed magic in a more practical field for the next mission."

"It's just weird. Y'know?" Sera responds, before turning back to Arturia. "You're a knight, but you can do magic too, and not only that, you can use that magic in your hand in more ways than one! I'm not sure if anyone in the Circle would know how to handle your kind of strangeness."

"By my guess, they would have locked her up and experiment on her, which stands to show that I am far more qualified and preferred," Solas counters. Arturia supposes she ought to be thankful for that, it would not have sat well with her to just sit around like a captive critter. Dangerous and unknowing as this power is, it is still a procedure Arturia cannot accept. She wonders then, if Vivienne has had experienced this brand of treatment, and thinks to ask her about it some other time.

"Right. Well, 'nough of that. Why not tell me more about your potion making, Turi? That bottle you have me was really somethin'! Though from how it went boom, it was your first time making something like it, right? Pretty basic stuff. Here's to hoping that you plan to get be-." The blonde stops herself, gaining a thoughtful look, before a massive grin form on her face, "Hey! Here's an idea! I can just teach you a few things! Show you the good stuff and the know on how to make more explosive ones using different materials!"

"I...never took you for someone to be well-versed in the art of alchemy, Sera," Arturia admits, clearly surprised at the elf archer's offer.

"'Course! Can't be a Red Jenny if I don't know how to be sneaky behind the curtains and whatnot. It's pretty simple stuff unless you're a moron," Sera reaches over her shoulder and brings over a carrier bag. Opening it, it is filled with vials and bottles of liquid in different colors and glow of potions, tonics, and grenades she has made, "I made some things not a lot of people know how to make. Sometimes, I don't even know what I made! Hahaha!"

Arturia simply nods, fascinated, and yet, somewhat unnerved.

"Ask Sera if she knows to make a tonic that would clean me and leave me glowing for months to come,' Excalibur requests pompously. 'I've been wanting to further show off my brilliance, and I haven't had a proper cleaning in several months now!"

"You are an invisible sword, you're supposed to not be seen." Arturia points out dispassionately. "And what do you mean bath? You're a sword!"

"A sword designed by fairies and granted by the Lady of the Lake, I demand only the finest quality treatment! Or so help me, I will add it as yet another one of my list of complaints about your handling of me!"

Knowing that his list of complaints means that he'll simply say his one thousand or more issues out loud in Arturia's head, Arturia decides to ignore the sword, and just in time too. She sees a familiar landmark and the camp up ahead.

They have arrived at Haven.

At their entering of the main camp, a scout approaches them, happily greeting the group as a whole and seeing their safe return. He then informs Arturia and Cassandra that the other advisers are together at the Chantry War Room, and requests their presence there. Arturia and Cassandra agrees, and bid everyone in their army a good rest before leaving to the Chantry building.


"The siege went successfully. We've claimed not only their fort but their goods and terrain," Is what Arturia reports to the other advisers. They are circled around the war table, listening to the report of what went down in the fort.

Cassandra steps up to add on, "There were no casualties on our side, thanks to us planning things out carefully beforehand and making good use of distractions. We were able to complete the siege without any severity."

Cullen nods. Impressed. "All good news then. Anything else to report?"

"We've confronted and resolved an issue on Storm Coast," Cassandra continues, "After the siege, we've discovered that a team of bandits has killed a small group of our members. Though I would have been happy to take their heads, Arturia convinced me a better resolution."

"The bandits called themselves the Blades of Hessarath." Arturia states, "Despite their work, they're devoted to Andraste. They thought it was just to murder our members for trespassing their lands. Or believe it to be a higher calling. I thought otherwise. But it was clear enough that they follow the orders of this man, their leader. Strangely enough, they actually had a code, that if I were to challenge him and win, the Blades would then follow me."

"And did you-?"

"She won," Cassandra answers Cullen before he finishes asking, "And now we have numerous supporters and allies for the Inquisition. They were actually the reason why Leliana's people were having trouble investigating further on their land. Now that they've been dealt with, your people should have no trouble to resume their investigation on their lands."

"Good to hear that," Leliana states in a pleased manner. "Now then, the Blades of Hessarath was it? I've heard only a few things about them, though not much coming back. This explains why."

"They are impressive warriors if they knew how to counter Leliana's spies," Arturia says. "It may seem undeserving that I would give these men a chance after murdering our own. But the leader offered his life for his team, and I chose to honor that. They were not ill-willed people, perhaps too fanatical, but it's better than for there to be more blood spilled unnecessarily." She then looks over to Cullen, "Perhaps you should meet with them, commander. Although I have won their allegiance, I will be far too busy with other matters to attend to. Can I trust to put them in your hands?"

After a moment or two in thought, Cullen gives his response, "I think I can manage. I'll need more information on them, I'm sure you'll tell me another time. I imagine how tired you all must be."

"You should go ahead and rest for the day, you deserve it, without a doubt," Josephine smiles.

There is no argument there, though she would have liked to resume working, Arturia knows how to recognize her limits, and should not strain herself so much that it will leave her useless in situations when they most need her in top-form. Arturia nods at the advisers, thanking everyone for their time before leaving to retire for the day, yet prepare all the same for the days to come. There is no moment of relaxation for this girl given her status and position, and all the advisers knew this very much.

At Arturia's leave, Cassandra addresses the other advisers, "How has everything been while we were gone?"

"All good actually. We've been getting more and more recruits by the hour. We've just received our latest, the people you and Arturia sent us. We're happy to say the least that we have at least one Warden with us; Warden Blackwall, and the Chargers have been here since this morning. It's also been... especially helpful for Lady Vivienne to contribute in organizing the camp." There was a bite in Josephine's tone at the mention of the Enchanter that Cassandra can't help but blink in surprise, and also notices Cullen's reddening cheeks. What on earth happened while she wasn't here?

"I've actually had a chance to speak with Warden Blackwall," Leliana reveals. "Sadly, he really doesn't know where the other Wardens are. But he's more than eager to represent them and help us himself."

"Was there anything else?" Josephine asks. "Perhaps a brief meeting with any known wardens he may have come across? A message or the like?"

'Doubted, since he clearly has never known a Warden in his life,' Leliana thinks skeptically to herself. However, she wasn't sure exactly what the circumstances are to Blackwall, for him to likely be impersonating a Warden, or some other matter. Either way, she has to find confirmation first, and without confirming anything yet, she can't find any reason to bring up her suspicions.

Thus, she shakes her head, "Nothing, but I did request that he keeps me in tabs should he does come across something." Just as much as she will be keeping him in tabs, which she will not elaborate on to the rest. She then changes the subject swiftly in order for the topic to not be lingered on any longer, "As for the Iron Bull, I thank you and Arturia for letting me know at once about his position. The Qun is a rather...how should I say this...well, it's best not to take them lightly. Even better to know we have a spy so open to us."

"Still can't believe we're allowing a spy of another group just walk around our camp," Cullen rubs his forehead. "Is it really wise to just let him be?"

"Never fear, Commander," Leliana reassures. "I'll be keeping an even closer eye to our Qun spy." Spying over the spy, as silly as it really sounds. "I'll handle all matters with the Qun, so for now, just focus on working well alongside our new ally. Temporary as he may be. Who knows, he might teach me a few tricks."

There is a smile of amusement, and Josephine raised an eyebrow at it. "Do you actually find it enjoyable in having a spy of the Qun within your reach? I would think it would be even trickier having to spy over another spy."

True, but has there been a day where unforeseen difficulties don't arise when least expected? Has there been a time when Leliana knew how not to confront them? Frankly, the best part of life is its unpredictability, and what would she be if she does not know how to work around it?

Such thoughts are the reason why Leliana smiles slyly at the Antivan before giving her remark.

"Well, I DO enjoy a good challenge Josie."