The party walked into camp, glad to see the Inquisition's soldiers and banners. It had been a lot of hard walking from Haven to where the scouts had set up camp near the Crossroads. If Mother Giselle's help was useful, however, it would be well worth it.

The entire region was in turmoil. On the trip there, they'd encountered their share of bandits and rouge mages.

Velthorn hoped that they could at least put the problems around the Crossroads at rest, if nothing else.

As the four came into the line of tents, several of the scouts stopped what they were doing to stare, including a young dwarven woman. Then she seemed to snap to her senses and went to greet them.

"The Herald of Andraste. I've heard the stories. Everyone's heard them. We know what you did at the Breach and even though people are a bit nervous around mages right now, you'll get no backtalk here. That's a promise. Inquisition Scout Harding, at your service. I-er, all of us here will do whatever we can to help."

"Pleased to meet you," Velthorn said, though to be honest, he was a little embarrassed. He hated being addressed as 'My Lord' or 'Herald' or 'Worship'.

"We should get down to business," Harding went on, unsure of what to think of the newcomers, "Originally, we came here for horses, from Master Dennet, but we haven't seen or heard from him. Though, the fighting between the rebel mages and the rogue Templars hasn't allowed us to get far."

"Not surprising," Cassandra commented. "The fighting has made it hard for anyone to travel this area."

"Well, I grew up here and everyone always said Horsemaster Dennet's horses were the strongest and fastest this side of the Frostbacks. Unfortunately, we don't know if he's even alive. As for Mother Giselle, she's been helping refugees down at the Crossroads. It isn't far from here. Just follow the path."

"Thank you for the information," Velthorn said, processing what he'd just heard.

"And-ah, good luck out there," she told them, a look of pure concern on her face.

In other words, I hope you don't get killed.

It was simple enough to follow the road to the Crossroads, but what they found was less simple. Velthorn walked one step out of the protective barrier of rocks and was nearly fried by a stray fireball. He saw a Templar grab a woman and run her through with his sword. She didn't fight back, except to try to run, which meant she likely wasn't even a mage.

Ahead of the small group, archers were firing on both Templars and mages alike.

"Inquisition forces," Solas noted.

"We should help them," Cassandra said, already drawing her weapon. Solas put a barrier around them.

"Who says farm life is boring?" Varric said, mostly to himself, as he brought Bianca around.

They rushed into the ongoing battle and their combined forces quickly cut down the offending mages and Templars. After, the townspeople slowly started trickling back out of the houses. People got to work cleaning debris and putting out fires. Solas treated the wounded, while Cassandra, Velthorn, and the soldiers moved the bodies.

The fear was palpable, but what was worse was the resigned look on all the villagers' faces.

Mother Giselle was already helping with the wounded, ones who were already wounded before this most recent fight.

Velthorn approached the woman alone, and came upon her trying to comfort a severely burned man. He didn't want the magic near him, while she was telling him the mages could help.

"Mother Giselle?" Velthorn asked.

The woman turned to him. "I am. And you must be the one they're calling the Herald of Andraste."

"I'm told you asked for me."

Mother Giselle nodded her head slowly. "I did, yes. I know of the Chantry's denouncement, and I am familiar with those behind it. I won't lie to you. Some of them are grandstanding, trying to increase their chances at becoming the new Divine. Some are simply terrified. So many good people, senselessly taken from us."

"What happened was horrible," he agreed, "And I want to try to help, but they aren't letting me."

Once more, Mother Giselle nodded. "And that is why I called upon you. Go to them. Convince the remaining clerics you are no demon to be feared. They have heard only frightful tales of you. Give them something else to believe."

"You want me to appeal to them? Personally?" the elf questioned. Couldn't that just makes things worse?

"If I thought you were incapable, I wouldn't suggest it."

"Will they even listen? They have been turning my very nature against me."

"Let me put it this way: you needn't convince them all, you just need some of them to doubt. Their power is their unified voice. Take that from them and you will receive the time you need."

Velthorn understood the logic Mother Giselle was using, but worried it wouldn't help, but hinder. Here he was, a Dalish elf and a mage, claiming to be the Herald of Andraste for a religion he himself didn't believe in. Why should any of the shems put any stock in what he would say?

"I honestly don't know if you've been touched by fate or sent to help us…but I hope. Hope is what we need right now. The people will listen to your rallying call, as they will listen to no other. You could build the Inquisition into a force that will deliver us, or destroy us.

"I will go to Haven and provide Sister Leliana the names of those in the Chantry who would be amenable to a gathering. It is not much, but I will do whatever I can."

"Thank you," Velthorn said, but she was already walking away.

The elf rejoined his companions, relaying the Mother's idea. Immediately Cassandra wasn't sure about it and voiced her own opinion, but they all decided it would be best to make a final decision with the other leading members of the Inquisition.

"We should help the people here," Solas said as they walked to find Corporal Vale. "From what I can see, they are not faring well."

That was an understatement. Many were cold at night, when the temperature dropped and left frost on everything til midmorning. Many more were half-starved. All had lost at least one loved one. Hope was nowhere to be found amongst these people. The Mother was right.

"We'll see if the Corporal has any ideas on what to do," Velthorn replied.

"He should be just up this hill," Cassandra put in.

The Inquisition had already set up a camp here. Scouts and soldiers were scattered about, sitting by the fire, running errands, and doing what training they could with the limited space. They asked someone to bring them to Vale.

The Corporal was giving a group of scouts orders when they came up to him. His attention immediately changed and he sent the scouts on their way.

"Seeker. Herald. We've been expecting you. I'm afraid we haven't made much progress getting to the Horsemaster, as I'm sure you heard. Too many problems here we have to deal with to even think about finding him."

"Problems besides the war?" Cassandra asked.

"Problems because of the war," Vale answered. "The people here are hungry, cold, and have lost a lot."

"What can we do?" Velthorn immediately said.

The Corporal thought for a moment, looking around. "Got a recruit by name of Whittle that's looking into finding supplies. You can find him over by the cave that way. And a refugee named Hanin might have a few ideas about food. He's a local hunter. Knows the area."

"Anything else we should know?" Velthorn asked.

"Not that I can think of. Just be careful out there. It's madness."

"That's nice to know," Varric said as they walked away, "Why are we wandering around the wilderness looking for the angry rebels again?"

Cassandra, serious as always, replied, "To stop them from causing any more trouble. No one else is going to help, obviously."

"That's right. So let's find Whittle and the hunter. We'll see what we can do for these people first," Velthorn told the team.

"Guess we'd better get to it, then," Varric said, sounding hesitant, but he knew as well as the rest of the team this needed to be done. If they didn't, who would? He'd learned that from his time with Hawke.

It took them some time, but they found Whittle and Hanin. The recruit asked them to find caches of supplies the rebels might be hiding and Hanin wanted them to find a safe place for locals to hunt. Somewhere the Inquisition was stationed, preferably.

It was well into the afternoon when they left the village.

"What are we going to do first? We have quite a list," Solas asked.

"The biggest problem is the fighting. It would be more practical to find wherever the mages and Templars are holed up first. Once the fighting has stopped, it'll make it easier to hunt for food and to find the caches," Velthorn said.

"As well as finding the Horsemaster," Cassandra put in.

"That too. We should get over there. We're losing daylight."

After checking the maps, the group left toward Lake Luthias, the most direct route toward the King's Road. The Inquisition scouts had reported that was where a lot of the fighting was going on, so there should be clues as to where the groups were coming from.

"Look at that," Solas said, looking towards the crumbling towers of Calenhad's Foothold. At one time, it would have been a grand structure, but now it was little more than a few dilapidated walls.

"Aaaand, we have company," Varric sighed, seeing the Fade Rift and the demons it was spawning, "This is going to be a long few days."

Day one only got them to the lake. After closing the Rift, the group continued on the path until they reached water. It was located on a cliff, which conveniently overlooked the battleground of the Templars and mages. The sun was on the decline by that time and the group set up camp.

The fighting was over by nightfall.

"Seems they've given up for the time being," Solas noted, looking back at the others. He'd been watching the lights of the stray spells.

"Good," Varric grumbled in reply, "Idiots."

Velthorn put in, "I can't believe they're still going at each other. Can't they see that what they're doing is madness?"

"Some of them, perhaps. Others believe their cause is true," Solas said.

"Do you think the Conclave could have done anything about all this?" Velthorn asked.

He and one of his clanmates, Tarill, had been there to see and report back on what was going on with the rebellion. Tensions had seemed high even before everything exploded.

Thinking about Tarill hurt. She'd been a good friend and now she'd been reduced to nothing more than dust on the mountainside.

Cassandra answered this time. "We had hope."

Hope? Velthorn thought, Hope isn't going to solve what's happening on that road down there.

The conversation continued as Solas said, "The templars went to war to force mages back into the Circles, which the mages would never agree to. What solution could Divine Justinia have offered when all sides rejected compromise?"

Varric added, "Yeah, what exactly was the Divine's plan? Bring everyone together and hope really hard that they would all get along?"

Stoically, as usual, Cassandra replied, "Most Holy did not confide her plan to me. Perhaps she thought they were tired of death and conflict."

Varric laughed rather humorlessly. "When has that ever been true? For Templars or mages?"

"The war was going nowhere for either side," Cassandra explained, "That they went at all showed that they realized this. You should not speak ill of the dead, Varric. She did what she could, and that is more than most."

"We're doing something," Velthorn told them. "And we'll continue to do something, until things change. The chaos cannot continue. The killing cannot continue."

There was such conviction in his voice, such true belief in what he was saying, that his companions didn't doubt him. With that in their heads, the group fell silent.

A week later found the party at Dennet's farm. Inquisition soldiers were already setting up a watchtower on the ridge. The mages and Templars had been dealt with, and they'd even managed to convince a few runaways from both sides to join their ranks. Most were scared and had only been caught up in all the fighting, thinking they had no other way out of the conflict.

Velthorn and Solas were currently investigating the strange tablet they'd found while exploring the countryside. In fact, they'd found it after also finding a skull on a pedestal that lit up the locations of other 'shards'.

Of course, Varric immediately registered the thing, which they'd called Ocularum after finding more, as 'creepy shit'. In all honesty, Velthorn had to agree. Especially after Solas admitted that he had never encountered such magic.

Unfortunately, the shard they'd found was just as mysterious as the Ocularum that lit them up.

"We'll have to see if Leliana's scouts can come up with any leads as to what these are and where those pedestals came from," Solas said, leaning back after carefully studying the strange runes and markings.

"There have been a lot of strange things popping up of late," Velthorn replied.

"Indeed. It's possible the opening of the Breach and the damage to the Veil has allowed for a change in magic, perhaps opening up possibilities for new magical types. Who can say?" Solas speculated.

Velthorn only nodded, mulling it over. He needed no convincing. Over the past weeks, he had seen enough to know that things were quickly changing. The Inquisition had its work cut out for it, that was for sure.