Cassandra was venting her frustrations on a practice dummy. Or at least, on what remained of a practice dummy. She made a disgusted noise as she tossed the destroyed dummy aside and replaced it with another.

Maxwell smiled at her. "You're kind of force of nature, aren't you?"

The blade sent splinters flying. "When I need to be."

"It's impressive."

Cassandra looked at him curiously. "You flatter me."

"I'm trying," said Maxwell crossing his arms.

She started to turn back to the dummy, the sighed, and lowered the sword. "Did I do the right thing?" She ran a hand over the flat of the blade. "What I have set in motion here could destroy everything I have revered my whole life. One day, they may write about me as a traitor, a madwoman, a fool." She attacked the dummy again. "And they may be right."

There were no easy answers to be found. "What does your faith tell you?"

"I believe you and the others are innocent." Cassandra brought the blade up in an underhanded swing. "I believe more is going on here than we can see." The next swing would have taken the head off a man. "And I believe no one else cares to do anything about it. They will stand in the fire and complain that it is hot." The blade got stuck a moment in the side of the dummy, and Cassandra grunted as she pulled it out. "But is this the Maker's will?" She rolled her shoulders and resumed the combat stance. "I can only guess."

Maxwell raised an eyebrow. "You don't think I'm the Herald of Andraste and that she chose the others is my honour guard?"

"I think the four of you were sent to help us. I hope you were," said Cassandra honestly. "But the Maker's help takes many forms. Sometimes it is difficult to discern who is truly benefits, or how."

Around them, other soldiers were practicing and training. He saw a few men in templar armour leading others in various drills. "What's going to happen now?"

"Now we deal with the Chantry's panic over you before they do even more harm." Cassandra ran through a drill that had her blocking the blows of an imaginary opponent. "Then we close the Breach. We are the only ones who can. After that, we find out who is responsible for this chaos, and we end them." She lifted the blade, and focused once more on the dummy. "And if there are consequences to be paid for what I have done, I pay them. I only pray the price is not too high."

Maxwell really didn't want her to pray for just doing what was right. "You didn't have any choice."

"Didn't I?" Cassandra lowered the blade. "My trainers always said, 'Cassandra you are too brash. You must think before you act.' I see what must be done, and I do it. I see no point in running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. But I misjudged you in the beginning, did I not? I thought the answer was before me, clear as day. I cannot afford to be so careless again."

Maxwell smiled. "Can't say I'm not grateful to hear that."

Cassandra nodded. "I can be harsh, I know." Cassandra set down the blade, and walked to a bench to grab a waterskin. She drank, then turned back to look at Maxwell. "You've said you don't believe you're chosen. Does that mean… you also don't believe in the Maker?"

He would hardly be a very good Chantry brother if he didn't. "I believe He exists."

"That's…" Cassandra nodded approvingly. "Comforting. Surely the Maker put us both on this path for a reason. Now it simply remains to see where it leads us."


There was an argument happening in front of the Chantry. Templars stood on one side, mages on the other.

"Your kind killed the Most Holy!"

"Lies—" The mage sneered at the templar. "—your kind let her die!"

"Shut your mouth, mage," the templar yelled reaching for his sword.

Cullen and Adaar stepped between the combatants.

"Calm yourselves!" Adaar yelled.

"Enough!" Cullen commanded.

"Knight-Captain!" The templar slammed his sword back into its sheath.

"That is not my title." Cullen's glare had both sides backing off. "We are not templars any longer. We are all part of the Inquisition."

For a moment, the situation looked settled. And then Roderick's voice drifted over the crowd. "And what does that mean, exactly?"

"Back already, Chancellor?" Cullen rolled his eyes. "Haven't you done enough?"

"I'm curious, Commander, as to how your Inquisition and its 'Herald' along with his 'Honour Guard' will restore order as you've promised." Roderick gestured, attempting to play the crowd.

"Of course you are," Cullen merely smirked, and ignored the question. "Back to your duties, all of you!"

Under his gaze, the crowd dispersed. Roderick tried to enter the Chantry, and Cullen and Adaar moved to stand in his path, arms folded.

Maxwell shook his head as he made his way towards the three of them, things were suddenly get out of hand.

"It's bad," said Adaar.

"That's an understatement," said Cullen. "Mages and templars were already at war. Now they're blaming each other for the Divine's death."

Roderick sneered. "Which is why we require a proper authority to guide them back to order."

"Who, you?" Cullen actually sounded amused at the notion. "Random clerics who weren't important enough to be at the Conclave?"

"The rebel Inquisition and its so-called 'Herald of Andraste' and his 'Honour Guard'?" Roderick was actually bristling. "I think not."

"I don't know," said Maxwell casually, "the Inquisition seems about as functional as any young family."

"How many families are on the verge of splitting into open warfare with themselves?" Roderick asked.

"What about the Empress Celene and her cousin?" Adaar pointed out.

"Indeed, and it's not like that would ever happen with the Chantry?" Cullen added.

"Centuries of tradition will guide us," said Roderick firmly. "We are not the upstarts, eager to turn over every apple cart."

Maxwell shook his head and decided to ignore him. He shifted so he was facing Cullen and Adaar. "How widespread is the violence between mages and templars?"

He sighed. "Impossible to say."

"Your organisation flouting the Chantry's authority will not help matters," Roderick snapped.

Cullen didn't bother to respond to Roderick's words, and continued to address Maxwell. "With the Conclave destroyed, I imagine the war between mages and templars has renewed. With interest."

Maxwell frowned. "The mages and templars are fighting even though we don't know what really happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes?"

"Exactly why all this should be left to a new Divine." Roderick gestured emphatically. "If you are innocent, the Chantry will establish it as so."

Cullen stepped forward, forcing Roderick to take another step back. And in doing so, put himself between Maxwell and Roderick. "Or will be happy to use someone as a scapegoat."

"You think nobody cares about the truth? We all grieve Justinia's loss."

"But you won't grieve if the Herald of Andraste is conveniently swept under a carpet."

Adaar groaned and looked at Cullen. "Remind me why we're allowing the chancellor to stay?"

"Clearly your templar knows when to draw the line," said Roderick smugly.

Cullen ignored the chancellor's comment. "He's toothless. There's no point turning him into a martyr simply because he runs at the mouth. The chancellor's a good indication of what to expect in Val Royeaux, however."

Maxwell nodded grimly. "I'll make sure they see reason in Val Royeaux."

"I pray you right," said Cullen.


"Greetings, Herald of Andraste. How fares your quest to seal the Breach?"

Maxwell smiled at Mother Giselle. "I'm doing everything within my power." Though he wasn't quite sure where to begin.

The older woman's face was sympathetic. "A task such as closing the Breach is a heavy burden. I hope you do not carry it alone. We remember Andraste, but Andraste did not carry the Chant of Light alone. She had generals, advisors… even her husband, for a time. Do everything within your power…" She laid a hand on Maxwell's shoulder. "But remember those who would help you."

"You keep on talking as though I'm the equal of Andraste. Do you know how unnerving that is?" Maxwell asked.

"I can only imagine," Mother Giselle nodded. "But we are all given to our purpose under the Maker. I saw does not ask to be forged. And frankly, if such a comparison gives you pause, I do not see that as a bad thing. In any case, I pray this Inquisition proves less brutal than its predecessor."

It wasn't the first time someone had mentioned the original Inquisition. He'd read of it, but not in depth. "Can you tell me about the original Inquisition?"

"The original Inquisition was formed after the First Blight, well before the Chantry as we know it. The Inquisitors were hunters, zealots who tracked and killed cultists and dangerous mages. As Andraste rose to power, the Inquisition came into her service. Instead of hunting those who would do harm, the Inquisitors spread the Chant of Light by force."

Why the Inquisition then, and not something new? "This is a dark chapter of history for the Divine to revisit."

"Do you know what impresses me most about the original Inquisition? They fought horrific battles, killed and died for their cause…" Mother Giselle gestured. "And when it was time, they put their swords away. Perhaps the name was Divine Justinia's message: That when the Inquisition is needed, it will strike without mercy. But when its work is done, it will put its sword away."

It was hard for Maxwell to know what was in the Divine's mind when she ordered Cassandra and Leliana to form Inquisition. "Is there anything I can do to help you or your people?"

"My healers would benefit from more supplies. We have run short of even common goods with so many wounded. If you could deliver this list and the items on it to Quartermaster Threnn, she could get us what we need. It may not seem like much, but it would enable my healers to save many lives."

"Farewell, Revered Mother."

"Until next time."


Maxwell opened the door to find Josephine engaged in an argument with an Orlesian nobleman. Try as he might, he could never quite get used to those masks.

"The Inquisition cannot remain, Ambassador, if you can't prove it was founded on Justinia's orders."

"This is an inopportune time, Marquis. More of the faithful flock here each day." She looked up at Maxwell, and gestured. "But allow me to introduce you to the brave soul who risked his life to slow the magic of the Breach. Sir Trevelyan, may I present the Marquis DuRellion, one of Divine Justinia's greatest supporters."

He gave him a nod of greeting. "And the rightful owner of Haven. House DuRellion lent Justinia these lands for a pilgrimage. This 'Inquisition' is not a beneficiary of this arrangement."

He returned the nod, and gave him a curious look. "This is the first I've heard of Haven having an owner outside the Chantry."

"My wife, Lady Machen of Denerim, has claim to Haven by ancient treaty with the monarchs of Ferelden. We were honoured to lend its use to Divine Justinia. She is…" He caught himself, and sighed. "She was a woman of supreme merit. I will not let an upstart Order remain on her holy grounds."

He couldn't possibly be suggesting… He frowned. "People have been injured. You can't just turn them out onto the snow."

"And who benefits if they stay?" he retorted.

"Divine Justinia, Marquis." Josephine's voice was sharp and firm. "The Inquisition—not the Chantry—is sheltering the pilgrims who mourn her."

He stared at her for a moment. "Why is the Chantry ignoring the faithful?"

"Because it remains in shock." He sighed, and she put a comforting hand on his shoulder as she continued. "We face a dark time, Your Grace. Divine Justinia would not want her passing to divide us. She would, in fact, trust us to forge new alliances to the benefit of all, no matter how strange they might seem."

"I'll think on it, Lady Montilyet. The Inquisition might stay in the meanwhile." He gave them both a bow before departing.

He watched him go before turning back to Josephine. If his memory of the map was correct, they were currently in Ferelden, not Orlais. "Do the DuRellions actually have a claim on this place?"

"His Grace's position is not so strong as he presents it. Despite their Fereldan relations, the DuRellions are Orlesian. If the marquis wishes to claim Haven, Empress Celene must negotiate with Ferelden on his behalf. Her current concerns are a bit larger than a minor property disputes."

And given feelings between the two nations, it was likely negotiations would not get far. "I apologise for the intrusion. I didn't realise you were meeting with the marquis."

"You did little harm. In truth, the debate was most beneficial as practice for those to come."

"You expect more people in Haven?" There were already dozens more than there had been before he'd left for the Hinterlands. She'd been expecting numbers to go in the opposite direction.

"Undoubtedly. And each visitor will spread the story of the Inquisition after they depart. An ambassador should ensure the tale is as complimentary as possible."

It came to him that he knew very little about Josephine. "My I ask what brought you to work with Inquisition?"

"Sister Leliana approached me. We've been acquitted for quite some time," said Josephine smiling. "For better or for worse, being Inquisition's diplomat has become as interesting as she promised."

"What sort of dealings have you with nobility?" Maxwell asked.

"For some years, I was the royally appointed court ambassador from Antiva to Orlais. The nobility of Thedas is rather singular sphere. Those I am not acquaintance with, I know through reputation."

Maxwell gave a formal bow. "The Inquisition is lucky to have you as an advocate, Lady Montilyet."

"Thank you. Let us hope so. Thedas's politics have become…" She searched for a polite word. "Agitated of late. I hope to guide us down smoother paths. But please, excuse me. I've much work to do before the day is done."


Maxwell and the others entered the war room to find an ongoing discussion. Josephine nodded to him. "Having the Herald address the clerics is not a terrible idea."

Cullen immediately started shaking his head. "You can't be serious."

"In case you've forgotten, Lady Josephine, they want us dead," said Erdic.

Josephine shifted her writing board slightly. "Mother Giselle isn't wrong: at the moment, the Chantry's only strength is that they are united in opinion."

"And we should ignore the danger to the Herald and the guard?" Leliana stepped towards the table.

"It does seem like an unnecessary risk," Ellana agreed.

"Let's ask him." Josephine pointed her pen at Maxwell.

They wanted him to address the Chantry. "I'm more concerned this won't actually solve any problems."

"I agree." Cullen rested his hands on his sword hilt. "It just lends credence to the idea that we should care what the Chantry says."

"Not only bad, but me and the rest the guard don't honour your Maker, the Chantry has not exactly been sympathetic to mine and Ellana's people," said Adaar.

"And they only tolerate mine because we provide them lyrium," Erdic added.

Cassandra stepped forward. "I will go with them. Mother Giselle said she could provide us names? Use them."

Leliana stared at her. "But why? This is nothing but a—"

"What choice to we have, Leliana?" Cassandra gestured at the map. "Right now we can't approach anyone for help with the Breach. Use what influence we have to call the clerics together. Once they are ready, we will see this through."


The wagon ride into Val Royeaux was not the most comfortable journey. On the second day, Cassandra gave Maxwell and the others an appraising look. "It occurs to me I don't actually know much about any of you."

Maxwell shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

"I'm…" Cassandra leaned back. "Not sure. Where are you from?"

"I was born in Ostwick, and that's where most of my family is," said Maxwell.

"The Trevelyans, is it not? A large clan with a rather clever coat-of-arms. Tell me, do you consider the Free Marches your home? Are you eager to go back?"

Maybe once everything was settled back down. Until then… "Wherever I am is home enough for me."

Cassandra smiled. "That's how I feel now, after years of tending to business for the Divine."

Ellana then sat up. "As for me my clan never stays in one place for long, though we primarily roam the Free Marches."

"Oh?" said Cassandra looking surprised. "I didn't think your people roamed that far north, but clearly I'm mistaken." She then looked at her curiously. "I told some of your members of your clan might still be alive. Do you intend to go back?"

"I go home right now if I could," Ellana sighed.

Cassandra gave her sympathetic look. "Then I hope you can, once this business is done."

"As for me, I don't live in a specific place. My mercenary band worked mostly in the Free Marches, however," said Adaar.

"At least until you cross to the Waking Sea to reach the Conclave, I suppose?" Cassandra nodded. "What about you? Are you eager to go back to the Free Marches?"

"I speak with Maxwell when I say that I make my home where I can," said Adaar.

"Well, as for me I worked mostly at Ostwick primarily, though my…" Edric paused trying to find the right word, "business took merely around the Free Marches."

"Ah, the Carta," said Cassandra nodding. "Odd that organised crime could be a dwarven pastime, but there it is."

"And before you ask whether I'm going back," said Erdic holding out his hand. "If I ever go back to the Free Marchs, it'll be too soon."

Cassandra could tell that he didn't want to go into details.

Maxwell, eager to change the subject now turned his attention onto Cassandra.

"I'd like to get to know you better." Especially if they were going to keep working together.

"You would?" Cassandra asked suspiciously.

"Is that a problem?" Maxwell asked raising an eyebrow.

"Not entirely. I'm just curious as to your motivation."

"Is there any harm in us becoming a little closer?" Maxwell asked.

"Plenty," said Cassandra plainly.

Maxwell chuckled. "Is that right?"

Cassandra sighed. "As you wish. My name is Cassandra Pentaghast, daughter of the royal house of Nevarra, seventy-eighth in line for the Nevarran throne. I joined the Seekers of Truth as a young woman, and was with the Order until they withdrew from the Chantry. I remained as the Divine's Right Hand, carrying out her order to form the Inquisition—and here we are." Cassandra shrugged. "That's all there is to know, my Lord."

"Is it more or did things just get awkward," said Varric as he tried to keep his distance from Cassandra.