They were making their way back to Skyhold and as they walked Maxwell couldn't help but ask a few more questions about the Grey Wardens.
"Did Commander Clarel order the Ferelden Wardens to Orlais as well?" he asked Stroud.
"Yes, and Commander Faren wasn't too pleased," said Stroud. "He didn't like been ordered around especially since they both had equal rank, he especially didn't like Clarel's plans. In fact it was he who informed me of the ritual."
"Wasn't he worried about the Calling?" Cassandra asked.
"He was, but he didn't allow fear to cloud reason," said Stroud. "He kept on saying that we need to find a solution calmly and carefully and not rush without thinking."
"Wise of him," said Solas.
"You think he can help us?" Adaar asked.
"It's possible, he did help me escape, but I suspect that he is under close observation now and he can do more good trying to make Clarel see reason," said Stroud.
"Let's hope he's successful," said Maxwell.
They soon entered Skyhold and were met with a female dwarf, who was heavily pregnant.
"Hanara?" Erdic asked and ran over to the woman.
Hanara then hugged her husband tightly. "I was so worried about you, when I heard of Haven…"
"I'm fine, dear," Erdic assured. "But things have been touch and go with the Inquisition."
"So I've heard," said Hanara.
"Do you mind introducing us, Erdic," said Maxwell as he approached.
"My apologies, Hanara, this is Maxwell Trevelyan, Inquisitor of the Inquisition," said Erdic gesturing to Maxwell, he then gestured towards Adaar and Ellana. "And this is Adaar and Ellana Lavellan."
"It's an honour to meet you all and I trust you've been keeping my husband safe," said Erdic.
"We do our best," said Maxwell.
Dorian was staring at a piece of parchment. "Anything interesting?" Maxwell asked.
"A letter regarding Felix. Alexius's son." Dorian held up the parchment. "He went to the Magisterium. Stood on the senate floor and told them of you. A glowing testimonial, I'm informed. No news on the reaction, but everyone back home is talking. Felix always was as good as his word."
He frowned. "Was?"
"He's dead. The Blight caught up with him."
Maxwell laid a hand on his arm. "Are you all right?"
He tried to wave his hand dismissively. "He was ill, and thus on borrowed time anyhow."
"That doesn't mean you can't regret his death."
"I know." Dorian leaned on the bookshelf. "Felix used to sneak me treats from the kitchens when I was working late in his father's study. 'Don't get into trouble on my behalf', I'd tell him. 'I like trouble,' he'd say." Dorian smiled fondly at the memory. "Tevinter could use more mages like him, those who put the good of others above themselves."
"Were the two of you…?"
"Felix and I?" Dorian looked genuinely startled. "What an odd question. No, I had no intention of abusing Alexius's hospitality by seducing his son. Not that I've been proper my whole life, by any means. It wasn't like that. Even in illness, Felix was the best of us. With him around, you knew things could be better."
"You make it sound like he was a better person than you," said Maxwell crossing his arms.
Dorian looked amused. "What a mad thing to say. Few people are better than I." Maxwell raised an eyebrow. "Very well. A better person, clearly. Not nearly as handsome." He picked up some books and started to take them over to another shelf before turning back to him. "Thankfully, Felix wasn't the only decent sort kicking around Thedas."
"You said that Alexius was a mentor of yours," said Maxwell.
"He was my patron, sponsoring me to the higher levels of the Circle of Magi, in return, my successes where his. I had a lot of successes, naturally, Alexius was most pleased. He and I used to talk over brandy about the corruption, how we could one day make real changes in the Imperium." Dorian then closes eyes as if he was reliving a bad memory. "And then he—gave up. He stopped trying."
Maxwell frowned. "Why did he give up?"
"On the journey to Hossberg, a darkspawn raid killed his wife and sickened his son," said Dorian. He shook his head. "I remember hearing the news. He hadn't been there, you see. Alexius was convinced he could have protected them, and the guilt tore him up. I helped him with his research for while, and then we…" He paused trying to find the right word, "drifted apart."
Maxwell raised an eyebrow. "You mean you fought with him."
Dorian nodded. "I told him to snap out of it, move on. I thought I had all the answers." He then shook his head as he closed his eyes. "Later, I regretted my hasty words, but we didn't speak again until he approached me for the Venatori. Too much pride, I suppose. Plus, I was busy drinking." He then smiled. "One must have priorities."
"I don't think that it," said Maxwell crossing his arms. "You're guilty because you couldn't help him."
Dorian smiled. "Clever you. I had a choice, you see: wallow in self-pity or get away while I could." He then took a deep breath and sighed. "At any rate, he's fallen so low, I doubt whoever get up. Sad, really."
"Have you gone to see Alexius as yet?" Maxwell asked. "He's in the cells."
Dorian shook his head. "Not yet, no. I saw him before they locked him up. He looked… despondent. Broken. Not the man I remember, nor the one I want to." He then gave Maxwell way concerned look. "I realise it's now your job to judge him. All I ask is, if you do… show him mercy."
Maxwell couldn't really promise that, it depended what the situation was and if there was another option.
Maxwell checked on Josephine, who now had a desk and was scribbling down on some paper.
"Inquisitor," she said looking up from her papers. "I was just inspecting our new headquarters. Foundations cracks. Nesting animals. And miles from any centres of civilisation. The staff must make it presentable if we're to receive any visitors of distinction."
Maxwell nodded. "It certainly wouldn't do for the Inquisition to appear overly shabby."
"We've only just now convinced everyone we are precisely what Thedas requires. The mages are showing great trust in you. They need to feel safe here."
"Do you not feel safe here?" Maxwell asked.
"I've had…" She then shuddered, "difficulty forgetting Corypheus' attack on Haven." She then looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "Do you know who first leapt to arms? Our workers. They were so proud of our cause. Corypheus simply cut them down. So much screaming at the first blast of fire. So many people turn to ash."
Maxwell closed his eyes. "We lost far too many good people to that monster."
"I'm sure they'll find peace with the Maker." She shook a deep breath and looked back at Maxwell. "Well. Before I return to my duties, allow me to congratulate your appointment as Inquisitor, my lord. I will now bring diplomatic issues to your attention, and I'm more than happy to help with any situation that arise."
Maxwell smiled. "You don't have to be so formal just because I'm Inquisitor now, Josephine."
"Our allies, and guests should see you and your guard treated with every courtesy, Inquisitor, especially considering the newness of your office. Fortunately, after your courage at Haven, it's no difficult task to do so. Speaking of which, there is a matter that need your attention."
There was a throne in the great hall. A throne. And Josephine was explaining that Maxwell was expected to sit in it. "Impressive, is it not? Fit for a leader. Meant to show influence—and the burden of it. It is where the Inquisition will sit in judgment. Where you will sit in judgment."
"Who will I be judging, exactly?"
"Those who have done wrong." Josephine smiled. "You will know of them, at the very least. All this presumes they have survived their initial encounter with you, of course."
"Still more lives in my hands." It was a chance though, to see actual justice done. With so many eyes on him, he could at least point to a better path.
"You are a beacon of law, Inquisitor, as others retreat from responsibility. But this needn't be bloody." Josephine gestured. "The Inquisition's sovereignty is derived from the allies who validate it. You are both empowered and bound. Justice has many tools. If their application is clever, execution may even seem merciful by comparison."
They brought Alexius before him. Josephine stood at his right. "You recall Gereon Alexius of Tevinter. Ferelden has given him to us in acknowledgment of your aid. The formal charges are apostasy, attempted enslavement, and attempted assassination—on your own life, no less. Tevinter has disowned and stripped him of his rank. You may judge the former magister as you see fit."
He could see Dorian watching from the balcony. "I remember what would've happened to Thedas if his treachery had succeeded."
"I couldn't save my son. Do you think my fate matters to me?" Alexius barely raised his head as he spoke.
"Will you offer nothing more in your defence?"
"You've won nothing. The people you saved, the acclaim you've gathered—you'll lose it all in the storm to come." There was more bitterness than anger in the words. "Render your judgment, Inquisitor."
The charge of apostasy was meaningless. It was the attempted enslavement of the mages that deserved his attention, just as it had the day he'd gone to Redcliffe. And for the sake of Dorian… "Your magic was theoretically impossible, Alexius. I could use people like you. Your sentence is to serve, under guard, as a researcher on all things magical for the Inquisition. Fiona will oversee your efforts."
"No execution?" The man actually gave a disappointed sigh. "Very well."
He caught a glimpse of a pleased look on Dorian's face before the man disappeared back into the library.
Adaar was at the tavern with Iron Bull sharing a drink with him. She was very curious on how he got his name.
"So, how did you get the name 'Iron Bull'?" she asked as she took a sip from her tankard.
"I picked it," said Iron Bull simply. "You know how it is. Even growing up Tal-Vashoth, your parents had to tell you about some of it, right? No names. I figured your parents chose yours the same way." He then smiled at her. "Nice going on Adaar, by the way. 'Weapon'. I like that."
"But why specifically 'Iron Bull'?"
"It may surprise you, but I really like hitting things," said Iron Bull as he took a swig. "Also, it's 'The Iron Bull', technically. I like having an article at the front. It makes it sound like I'm not even a person, just a mindless weapon, and implement of destruction… that really works for me."
Adaar couldn't say that she understood it, but she had to admit that it did make Iron Bull a lot fiercer.
Ellana found Cole sitting on a ledge, looking over the infirmary. "Eyes rough, jangling armour hurts my ears, back aching, fingers too clumsy for knots." His eyes were on one of the healers. "Wind cool like Aunt Eloise's pond. Lips scalded as I sip, warmth blossoms, first kiss in the barn, what was his name?" The woman below looked tired, dragging. "Tin jangle as the blood spills. Pierre's wrapped body on the wagon to the chantry. Five more minutes. My fault."
"Can you listen to anyone's mind like you did hers?" Ellana asked as she moved closer to him.
"No. They have to need me." He glanced at her before going back to watching the healer. "Pain, fear, sadness, guilt, anger, hurt. Things I can fix."
The healer did look exhausted. Still so many wounded among the refugees. One of the fields back at the Crossroads had been planted with nothing but elfroot. "Can you do something for her?"
Cole seemed to vanish. A moment later, she saw him walking towards the woman. Quickly, she went down the stairs to watch. She got there in time to hear Cole speak. "It's okay. Nothing you did mattered."
"What?" The healer looked startled. "Who are you?"
"They lie there, and sometimes they die, just like Pierre. You can't save them."
"I don't…" She looked a bit scared now. "I don't know who you are…"
"Wait, that didn't work. Let me try again. You'll forget me in a minute."
She had to stop herself from asking questions. After a few moments, the healer turned away and started to go back to her work. Cole spoke again. "You can't save all of them."
"What?" The healer turned back to Cole.
"Like Pierre getting sick after you snuck out to Aunt Eloise's pond. You want it to be your fault, so there's a reason and it's not so frightening. But there's no reason. Pierre just got sick. The soldier was never going to live. It wasn't your fault."
The healer turned away again, but this time some of the weight was gone from her shoulders. Cole looked pleased with himself as he turned back to Ellana. "Better."
"She doesn't blame herself anymore?"
"Not as much. It was bouncing around inside her, closing up into a ball of wrong. Now it's open. She'll get it out." He smiled. "Thank you for letting me help her. It's not how a person would do it…" He shifted awkwardly. "But it helped. That's what matters."
"It does. Thank you, Cole."She smiled. "It helped me too."
Cullen had asked for Maxwell's presence for some matter and when he entered into his office, he found him looking down at a lyrium casket, the same kind that templars used when they had to consume lyrium. However, he noticed that Cullen looked increasingly weak.
He glanced up at him. "As leader of the Inquisition, you…" He sighed. "There's something I must tell you." He wouldn't quite meet his eyes.
"Whatever it is, I'm willing to listen."
"Right. Thank you." He straightened, and rested his hands on his sword hilt. "Lyrium grants templars our abilities, but it controls us as well. Those cut off suffer—some go mad, others die. We have secured a reliable source of lyrium for the templars here. But I…" He met his eyes. "No longer take it."
He blinked. "You stopped taking it?"
"When I joined the Inquisition. It's been months now."
"Cullen, if this can kill you…" Maxwell knew everything about the Templars and what happens to one when they stopped taking lyrium.
"It hasn't yet." He looked down. "After what happened in Kirkwall, I couldn't…" He looked up at him again. "I will not be bound to the Order—or that life—any longer. Whatever the suffering, I accept it." He straightened again. "But I would not put the Inquisition at risk. I have asked Cassandra to…" He looked at his hands. "Watch me. If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved of duty."
"Thank you for telling me. I respect what you're doing."
"Thank you, Inquisitor." He squared his shoulders. "The Inquisition's army must always take priority. Should anything happen…" He took a breath. "I will defer to Cassandra's judgment."
They soon began their trek to the Western Approach, Maxwell went to hear Scout Harding's report, but both Hawke and Stroud had already headed towards the ritual tower.
"Inquisitor! Welcome to the Western Approach!" said Harding ecstatically. "We've sighted Warden activity to the southwest, but no one's been close enough to figure out what they're doing." Harding gestured at the maps and notes. "Between sandstorms and the vicious wildlife, we haven't made it far out here." She waved at a tent. "One of my men got too close to a poison hot spring and gave me a slightly delirious report of a high dragon flying overhead. In short: this might just be the worst place in the entire world. Be careful out there."
"Awfully vague for a scout's report," Adaar noted.
"Apologies, my lady," said Harding. "I'll try and get a better survey of the area once we've established the forward camp. We intercepted a Venatori messenger and 'persuaded' him to give up the orders he was carrying. We have them here. This entire place…" Harding shook her head. "It just feels like something's not right. Be careful."
They located the sites of some ambushes, and Cassandra spotted some Chantry sigils carved into markers. Iron Bull spotted the dragon, and the big man actually bounced with excitement. "We're fighting her, right? Tell me we're fighting her, boss."
"We have a bit more important concerns at the moment," said Maxwell and saw his crestfallen expression. "Besides, we've had a report of a dragon near the Crossroads. We need to take care of that one first."
They had to deal with varghasts and bandits before finally making their way to the tower. Hawke and Stroud were waiting outside.
"I'm glad you made it, Inquisitor. I fear they've already started the ritual."
Hawke nodded. "It has to be blood magic. I hope we can stop them before more people get hurt. You take point. I'll guard your backs."
He nodded, and followed Stroud into the tower.
"Wait…" A Warden was backing away from another Warden. "No." Several demons stood by still more Wardens, and there were corpses littering the ground.
A man in Tevinter style clothing stood on a dais. "Warden-Commander Clarel's orders were clear."
"This is wrong," the Warden said.
"Remember your oath: In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death…"
"I'm sorry." The other Warden drove his blade into the pleading man.
Up on the dais, the Tevinter man gave a satisfied smirk. "…sacrifice." The Warden tore the veil and brought forth a rage demon. "Good. Now bind it, just as I showed you."
Next to him, Stroud put his hand on his sword. He nodded, and continued moving forward. The man on the dais caught sight of him and bowed mockingly. "Inquisitor. What an unexpected pleasure. Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, and your service."
"You are no Warden," Stroud's voice was angry.
"But you are." Erimond sighed. "The one Clarel let slip, no doubt thanks to that pesky dwarven commander. And you found the Inquisitor and his guard to came to stop me. Shall we see how that goes?"
Maxwell turned to the few gathered Wardens. "Wardens. This man is lying to you. He serves an ancient Tevinter magister who wants to unleash a Blight."
"That's a very serious accusation." Erimond stroked his goatee. "Let's see what the Wardens think." He glanced at the men standing there among the demons. "Wardens, hands up." The Wardens raised their hands. "Hands down." They lowered their hands.
Stroud hissed. "Corypheus has taken their minds."
"They did this to themselves. You see, the Calling had the Wardens terrified. They looked everywhere for help."
"Even Tevinter," Stroud snarled as his hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword. Behind him, Blackwall mirrored the gesture.
"Yes." Erimond actually looked amused. "And since it was my master who put the Calling into their little heads, we in the Venatori were prepared." He tapped his chin. "I went to Clarel full of sympathy, and together, we came up with a plan…" He smirked again. "Raise a demon army, march into the Deep Roads, and kill the Old Gods before they wake."
"Ah." Maxwell narrowed his eyes. "I was wondering when the demon army would show up."
Erimond started. "You know about it, did you? Well, then, here you are." He leaned on his staff. "Sadly for the Wardens, the binding ritual I taught their mages has a side effect. They're now my master's slaves. This was a test. Once the rest of the Wardens complete the ritual, the army will conquer Thedas. Of course, we would have accomplished is already it wasn't for that pesky dwarf and that Dalish elf."
Cassandra looked up. "What's that about the Hero of Ferelden?"
"Ah, me and my big mouth," Erimond smirked. "He was very close revealing my master's presence and was off to warn his precious Wardens, but I got wind of this and created a cave in killing him."
Erimond then pulled out a sword, Maxwell didn't recognised the metal, but Cassandra certainly did. Erimond then tossed it onto the ground and it skidded towards them,
"Starfang," Cassandra breathed.
"Yes, the famous sword that slayed the Archdemon at the Battle of Denerim. Held by the Hero of Ferelden himself and forged from star metal or at least it used to be."
"You dare mock one of Theda's greatest heroes," Blackwall sneered.
"If he was so great he wouldn't have fallen to such an obvious trap," Ermiond mocked.
"Do you really want to see the world fall to the Blight? What do you get out of this?" Adaar roared.
"The Elder One commands the Blight. He is not commanded by it, like the mindless darkspawn. The Blight is not unstoppable or uncontrollable. It is simply a tool."
"Somebody's certainly a tool," Varric muttered.
"As for me: while the Elder One rules from the Golden City, we, the Venator, will be his god-kings here in the world."
This had gone on quite long enough. He drew his daggers and pointed them at him. "Release the Wardens from the binding and surrender. I won't ask twice."
He sneered. "No. You won't." He gestured, and red light shot from his hand. The mark seared and burned, eliciting a cry of pain from him. "The Elder One showed me how to deal with you, in the event you were foolish enough to interfere again. The mark you bear? The Anchor that lets you pass safely through the Veil? You stole that from my master. He's been forced to seek other ways to access the Fade. When I bring him your head, his gratitude will be—"
He forced energy of his own back through the mark, the same way he sealed the rifts. Erimond screamed in surprise and pain. Stroud pulled him back to his feet, and he tightened his grip on his daggers.
"Kill them!" Erimond shouted as he scrambled away.
Demons and Wardens attacked. Erdic, Blackwall and Stroud set their shields and moved in simultaneously, forming a wall between him and the demons. Ellana put up a barrier. From behind him, Maxwell heard Hawke call out "I've got left." Lightning arced between the Wardens as she focused on the ones attacking from the right.
"They refuse to listen to reason," said Hawke as the last of the Wardens fell to the ground.
Stroud sheathed his sword. "You are correct. Through their ritual, the mages are slaves to Corypheus."
"And the Warden warriors?" Stroud gestured at the dead men, and Hawke's eyes narrowed. Anger filled his voice. "Of course. Sacrificed in the ritual. What a waste."
"Human sacrifice, demon summoning…" said Adaar shaking her head. "Who looks at this and thinks it's a good idea?"
"The fearful and the foolish," Hawke replied.
Stroud sighed. "The Wardens were wrong, Hawke, but they had their reasons."
Hawke folded his arms and glared. "All blood mages do." He gestured sharply. "Everyone has a story they tell themselves to justify bad decisions…" He shook his head. "And it never matters. In the end, you are always alone with your actions."
Judging by the look on Stroud's face, he wasn't going to argue that point. He then looked Maxwell. "I believe I know where the Wardens are, Your Worship." He then gestured to the west. "Erimond fled in that direction. There is an abandoned Warden fortress that way. Adamant."
"Good thinking." If they were going to stop the Wardens, they were going to need an army.
"The Warden and I will scout out Adamant and confirm the other Wardens are still there." Hawke nodded at her. "We'll meet you back at Skyhold."
Along the long trek across the Western Approach they came across an Orlesian researcher, who specialised in the study of dragons. He told them that he had been studying a high dragon in the vicinity, especially at hunting patterns.
He carried on explaining that he had seen Tervinters an old Warden fortress far to the east. He also asked Maxwell if he could find supplies, dragon tracks and assortment of other things so that he could track down the dragons hunting grounds.
Maxwell, Adaar, Varric, Cassandra and Iron Bull made their way to the old fortress, but when they got there they discovered that someone had beaten them to the punch. They definitely saw Venator around the place, all dead.
"Who could have done this," said Cassandra as she bent down to examine one of the bodies.
"Whoever did it was certainly skilled," said Iron Bull as he studied the battle. "They were taken by surprise, taken out quick before they could alert the others. Whoever did this was stealthy and attacked the mages first with a dagger."
"Ha, clearly there's someone else who doesn't like these guys," said Varric.
"The question is he an ally or a foe," said Adaar she gripped her greatsword even tighter.
They carried on their way through the fortress and found even more dead bodies. They soon reached the ramparts and saw a massive battle in the in progress. A spellcaster was firing spells at a Grey Warden, but he dodged the elegantly that none of them hit.
A large brutish thug with a maul rushed over to him raising his maul. Then to everyone's surprise the Warden somersaulted onto his shoulders, wrapped his legs around his neck and plunged two daggers into his head.
The warrior fell to the ground and before the spellcaster could launch a single spell he tossed the dagger that landed straight in his throat. Several Venator soldiers charged at him, but he blocked their attempts with the sword sliced the head off one and tripped the other one up with his right foot.
"Quick work," said Iron Bull.
"Careful, we do not know if this Warden is under the influence of Corypheus," said Cassandra warily.
"If I was I would hardly be killing his own men, Cassandra," said the man.
Cassandra's eyes widened. "Can't be."
The Warden turned and removed his hood to reveal a handsome Dalish elf with forest green eyes. "It is Cassandra."
"Theron Mahariel?" Cassandra gasped.
Maxwell stared at him, a few hours ago Erimond brags about how he killed him and there he was standing in front of them alive and well.
"What are you doing here?" Adaar asked curiously.
"I heard about these Venator that are taken over this fortress and came to clear out," said Theron. He then looked at them all with a raised eyebrow. "Clearly you came to do the same and you should know that they had been studying the movements of one Frederic of Serault, no doubt they wish to get their hands on the high dragon he's researching."
"That would explain a lot," said Varric.
"Anyway for your troubles how would you take this fortress the name of the Inquisition, the Wardens haven't used this fortress since the Second Blight and I doubt they will be using it anytime soon," said Theron. He then looked to all their faces. "No doubt you have questions and I will answer them once we return to your headquarters and I can imagine that Leliana we'll want to know about my survival."
When they made their way back to Skyhold, Leliana practically ran towards them just stared at Theron.
"Your alive," she said and wrapped her arms around him.
"Yes, I am," said Theron doing the same.
They made their way to the war room as Theron began to explain everything.
"As you know I've been studying awakened darkspawn for the past ten years," said Theron. "I eventually managed to find evidence that Corypheus was alive and had the ability of immortality. How he does it, I don't know, but I was on my way to show my findings when I was attacked."
"Venator," said Maxwell.
Theron nodded. "I didn't know who they work the time, but they were certainly dangerous. They made three times on my life and they began to realise that attacking me was the wrong way to kill me." He then looked at Leliana. "They began to target you to get to me. I had to protect you so I had to make it seem as if had broken all ties to you and knowing what happened in Halamshiral was the perfect opportunity."
Leliana stared at him with tears in her eyes. "But why? Why break my heart when you knew I could defend myself."
"Could you defend yourself while pregnant?" Theron asked raising an eyebrow. Leliana stared at him. "I saw the signs and that gave me more reason to break ties."
Leliana looked at him with tears in her eyes and left without uttering a word.
"This is a bit much for her," said Cassandra. "She'll need time."
"I know," Theron nodded. "I just hope she can forgive me."
Maxwell looked at Theron. "Any aid you can provide would be invaluable.
Theron nodded. "I'll help in whatever way I can, Inquisitor."
Erdic met Varric in the great hall, who was standing next to the fire warming his hands.
"You want something?" Varric asked.
"The red lyrium we found the temple seemed to upset you," said Erdic.
"My brother Bartrand and I sort of discovered red lyrium during an expedition into the Deep Roads. We located an ancient thaig, so old it barely looked dwarven. There was an idle there, made of it. Bartrand brought it back to the surface and, well, everything's gone downhill from there."
Erdic frowned. "What would the templars want with it?"
"In Kirkwall, just having the lyrium idol made Knight-Commander Meredith impossibly strong. Before it turned her into a lyrium statue, anyway. Maybe they thought the power was worth it. Or maybe they don't know the consequences."
"So what is it, just another kind of lyrium?"
"The red stuff is lyrium like a dragon is a lizard. It's not just a different colour. It has a whole host of weird this of its own. I've written to every Mining Caste house in Orzammar. No one's seen this stuff before or knows where it comes from."
"What makes it special?"
"Regular lyrium can mess you put up pretty badly, but you have to ingest it for that to happen. Red lyrium messes with your mind and when you're just there the stuff. You hear singing, get violent, paranoid. And then it does…" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "creepy shit. Makes things float. Bring statues to life. It also turned Kirkwall's knight-commander to lyrium. Everyone's been kept at least a hundred paces from it since."
Erdic could see that Varric was finding the entire conversation awkward. "That's enough on red lyrium."
"Yeah, not really my favourite subject."
"You've made such intriguing design choices for the castle, my dear. They must be inspired."
Maxwell smiled at Vivienne. "Thank you, Vivienne. I'm glad you approve."
"When things have settled down a bit, I will take you to Val Royeaux and introduce you to my seamstress." Vivienne gave him an appraising look. "And appearances are important. We can't have you mistaken for a commoner."
It amused him sometimes how much Vivienne reminded him of his mother. "I suppose it's important to show that we're an authority to be respected."
"Not just respected, my dear: awed, feared, aspired to." Vivienne gestured at the tents in the valley below. "You command an army of the faithful outfitted by the coin of the nobility. You must be a woman who commoners aspire to be and to whom nobles bow."
"That's quite a lot for one person to pull off, don't you think?"
"It is a challenge all great leaders must face, Inquisitor." Vivienne gave him a critical look, then reached up and adjusted Maxwell's collar. "The stories of your accomplishments will spread and, with them, doubt. Are you truly the woman from the tales? They will question what they've heard, but they will believe what they see. They must see someone greater than legends."
"If that's your standard for me, what does the Divine have to live up to?" With the council still in deadlock, more and more eyes were turning towards the Inquisition. If they didn't get a new Divine soon, he feared the Chantry would never recover.
"Andraste and the Maker cast very large shadows. The Divine absolutely must set the example for all Thedas. She must seem to be the embodiment of the Maker to the faithful. She needs the authority of the Maker and the charisma of Andraste."
"Hey you. Got a favour to ask." Sera pulled Erdic inside the tavern sitting room she'd claimed as her personal domicile. "Just a little thing, really. A little march-around for some of your people. It's nothing for you, right?"
"All right, let's hear what you've got," said Erdic as he sat down across from Sera.
"Jump right in, huh? I like that." Sera sprawled on the bench. "It's a Red Jenny thing. I got a tip that some noble stiffs are arguing over Verchiel. Land squabble. They're getting little people beat up, so I need you to go to your big table and send some people to walk through town."
"Just walk through?"
"Just walk through. Easy, right?"
There couldn't be any harm about sending some of the newer recruits to do a training exercise or something. He'd let Cullen know. "All right, Sera. I'll have someone look into it."
Sera rocked forward to sit up. "It's fun, right? Being important without doing a thing? Well, not much of a thing." She folded her legs up under her. "Not everything has to be torn skies and ancient arseholes. Every little thing makes a difference somewhere."
They chatted for several minutes and Erdic could only makes sense of only half of it.
