In the coming days, Cullen found himself swamped with requests, especially those regarding Doctor Entwhistle. Rumor had spread that she was an apostate from a far off land, perhaps even from across the ocean in the abyss that no one knew how to traverse and that her gifts were of a different kind of magic… which was just preposterous seeing that Cullen had grown up with her.

He and Cassandra, who later met Leona and bombarded her with questions, had to cipher through the requests of people complaining of petty illnesses just so they could get a glimpse of the doctor. Unless they were showing symptoms of the plague they were routed to mage healers despite their pleas and intrigue with this doctor.

As requested, a skilled herbologist accompanied Doctor Entwhistle through her endeavors and took complex notes on what the doctor was doing. Cullen had once overheard her mentioning how Leona had a chemistry set, in which she tampered with the materials from different monster parts and herbs. Rather than being perturbed, the herbologist was excited, having never seen such a method of preparing medicine, as potions used a different set of flasks and method of heating.

After two days, the doctor was delayed by visitors she refused to turn away. She had concocted the medicine and requested that all members of the Inquisition who had not contracted the plague, take it.

The leaders of the Inquisition informed her that she could start with the regular members and that they would take their medicine once everyone else had been tended to. Doctor Entwhistle even took her own medicine to prove to Cassandra that it was not poison, despite the herbologist's agreement.

"She could easily make an antidote when we are not looking," Cassandra grumbled, glancing down at the vile with a dreaded green, viscous liquid in it.

"I have nothing to gain from killing you all," Doctor Entwhistle shrugged, not bothered by the accusations, as if she had expected some resistance upon her arrival. "The Order of Hunters has no affiliation… yet," a small smile tucked itself onto the doctor's sweet face, like a hint of mischief on a child's.

Despite her chipper attitude, the woman showed signs of fatigue. Dark bags had formed underneath her eyes, but she moved with persistence and without lethargy. She offered Josephine and Cullen their flasks. She had another, reserved for the Inquisitor, who she had yet to meet.

Mayella materialized at the door, swaggering in, her eyes scanning the tower room that the doctor had put together for herself. On one end there was a work station, her boxes had been stacked on top of one another to form shelves that contained various materials. The tool crate was next to a patient table. A chemistry table was set up alongside of the boxes and had recently been cleaned. A few book cases had also been given to the doctor, though they were relatively empty at that time.

A desk was on the far side of the room opposite of the chemistry table, scattered with a few of the doctor's journals. The tub was also in the lower quarter. Her bed and wardrobe were up above on the upper terrace of the tower, separating her private life from her professional one.

"Inquisitor, a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance," Leona said politely, bowing respectfully.

Mayella had an air of disdain about her and appeared rather irritable as she waved away Leona's greeting. The doctor, still stooped at a deep bow, glanced up and scrutinized the Inquisitor.

She stood fully when she realized she wasn't going to be addressed and was visibly a little ruffled by the lack of an exchange. Leona's posture became absolutely erect, like she was balancing books on top of her head. She snatched up the last flask and brought it over to Mayella, who she glanced down at with the same amount of disdain that the Trevelyan had showed her.

When Leona turned, Cullen caught the fraction of a second when the doctor wrinkled her nose, as if noticing something smelly.

Leona spun back around and clasped her hands together. That day she wore trousers, her suspenders, and a cleaned button down, her sleeves rolled up. She had a small ribbon tie, but it had been undone. A few of her golden strands of hair had also come loose from her low ponytail.

"Now, as I've told everyone before, this medicine is to keep the plague from infecting you. Is it guaranteed? No, if you still needlessly expose yourself, you have a chance of contracting it. Such examples easy ways to contract it: ingesting fluids of an infected, whether it be through battle or otherwise. Airborne threat is now reduced due to this medicine. There are also side effects that would bother you within the first day, which include nausea and upset stomach. If you are worried about anything before taking this, such as being pregnant or you think you are already infected, please speak now," Leona opened the floor and no one piped up. "Very well, please take the full dosage of what I have given you."

No one was eager to put it down, but after a moment of considering each of them tried to get the slop to come out of their vile. The liquid moved at a painful pace and while it had no scent, it was tart and bitter. The faces of those taking it reflected the terrible taste.

"I suggest that each of you get a good day's rest, but I have a feeling none of you shall heed me," Leona mused before retrieving the stained viles. "Commander, if I could just speak with you after, I need a notice put out."

Despite his roiling stomach, Cullen turned away from the door that the others were exiting from.

"Yes?"

Leona closed the door behind the last of them and turned back to Cullen. "Is the Inquisitor always like that?"

"Er… No, I don't know what has gotten into her today."

"Hm, yes… she just displayed some strange symptoms."

"Symptoms?" Cullen echoed, arching a brow at her.

"Lethargy, lack of attention to her surroundings… If you say these things are unlike her, then there could be something else going on. Her eyes were bloodshot and she might have been sporting quite a headache from the way she moved her eyes down and away from candlelight."

"You observed that much?"

"That's my job, Cullen. Patients lie and I have to try and observe things that they may not realize or they don't want to tell me."

He might have felt pressure under the tempered stare of the doctor, but due to his training and work as a commander he simply shrugged. "I'll look into it," he promised, despite knowing that it might be her exposure to the red lyrium. As much as the doctor seemed to care, she could very well be sending information to the Hunters while no one was looking. Until the doctor's skills showed some results, he would wait on revealing more to her, just as she would with her Order.

"Go get some rest, you're looking a little blue around the gills."

Cullen couldn't help but chuckle at her. "Green around the gills," he corrected.

"You knew what I meant," the woman scowled before returning to clean up the vials. "Oh yes and the notice. I want you to put it up saying that the stomach sickness will pass in a day, drink water and make certain to eat. Other than that there is nothing else I can offer unless someone has a very severe reaction. I shall remain here, preparing for my trip to the afflicted in two days."

Cullen was sick as a dog that evening, just as Leona had warned. He spent most of it retching and from the sounds around the installment, he knew many others were just as ill. However, after a night's rest he no longer had any stomach issues, but was rather lightheaded. He followed up with drinking water to re-hydrate himself. He was offered a wonderful breakfast to wake him up, apparently "On the doctor's orders." The notion made him smile to himself and he found it easy to tuck the meal away in his empty stomach. Despite the prior night of torment, Cullen found himself in a rather splendid mood.

The two days passed swiftly and aside from one or two outliers who insisted on seeing the doctor, everyone else recovered within the day's span, just as promised. It was then that the doctor disappeared into the abyss with the afflicted, signs on her doors to her tower prohibiting entrance due to possible exposure.

A few days into her descent he received a disturbing report about a strange creature on the mountainside. It was described as favoring night time to emerge and it patrolled a certain area. Most often people were not even certain if it were real due to the fact that it blurred from vision often. The only reason they knew it to be real was because the travelers making their way to Skyhold were massacred in ornate ways. The manner or their deaths were so elaborate and planned, that it was difficult to believe that anyone would be mad enough to do such a thing. One report described of body parts being strew over the tops of barren trees far out of the reach of any person.

The most disturbing part was a patrol that tried to lay a trap for it. According to the surviving soldiers, it moved like mist, evading the trap entirely, no blade would pierce its ethereal flesh, and its screech was so terrible that it made ears bleed.

Perhaps the soldiers are over exaggerating, Cullen thought. It could have been a demon, but even these descriptions did not quite fit any of those he knew of. He wondered if he should send for the doctor to draw upon her expertise.

No, she's too busy with the ill. I will take a patrol and investigate this for myself. If I need the doctor, we will come back, he decided before sending out the report for his lieutenants to pass down so a patrol could be organized.

Ever since Leliana had gone, the duties of the spymaster had become split amongst those who still worked in Skyhold with the Inquisitor. Cullen had taken over the scouts and their patrols, as well as much of the intel they collected. He would often pass it on, seeing that his own forces took up enough of his time. Thankfully, it wasn't as much as when they had been fighting Corypheus, but it still seemed like the paperwork never ceased.

A couple of hours passed and Cullen finished the tiny stack that had been on his desk before he grabbed what equipment he would need from inside of the tower, seeing that his men would prepare the rest.

He stepped outside and grimaced, dismayed that the pleasant weather decided not to hold up for this patrol. The sky was a smattering of grey and the temperature had dropped to a frosty chill. Breaths left the mouths of their creators like a ghostly entity leaving the body. Many men had donned thick cloaks to combat the frigid weather and glanced over at their commander as he approached, cheeks flushed, drawing his own thick cloak closer to try and evade the bite of the wind.

His lieutenants would have debriefed the men that had been chosen to go with him and so he gave a simple nod before taking the reins to the horse that had been prepared for him. Mounting up, he could tell it was going to be an uncomfortable ride.

The party rode for a few hours until they came upon the location that was described in the reports. Nothing seemed out of place, but then again it was still daytime. The rumored creature was said to be nocturnal.

"I want a camp set up downwind of this area. Prepare some fires and we'll wait till the sky grows dark. From what I've read, it won't take much to lure this thing out, so I want the camp fully lit and men on guard. Keep the horses reined tightly, whatever it is might spook them when it grows near," Cullen ordered as his men saluted and went off repeating what he had just declared.

With them heading off the road and into the snowy woods, Cullen was left to glance around at the area. The snow of the road had been downtrodden and dirtied, but it was the banks that he was interested in. Droplets of blood from past victims were perfectly preserved in the top layer of snow. It wasn't as much as Cullen had been expecting, but he still found the traces of the last kills.

His eyes then went up into the trees, but he saw none of the body parts that the reports mentioned. Had they been removed and identified by the Inquisition? He could not recall. The trees were daunting, glaring down at him as if he were intruding. None of the boroughs held any recent snowfall, despite the fact that Cullen knew it snowed regularly in the area.

Once he was satisfied, Cullen turned to join the others, a chill stabbing down his neck as he left the scene. He walked the feeling off, but at that moment, he really wished he had drawn upon Doctor Entwhistle's expertise in this field.

Conversation was low among the men, just as morale seemed to be. Fear crept into their voices as they recounted the macabre details of the reports, much of what they said being exaggerated. However, even not exaggerated the stories were still grim.

Cullen rested by the fire, his hand subconsciously resting on the hilt of his sword, prepared to unsheathe it with a moment's notice.

A gust of wind tumbled into their camp and blew harshly against the fires. None were put out, but they dimmed for what seemed like eternity. The chill the wind brought was so sharp and painful that many got to their feet, disturbed by the feeling. Some strained their eyes past the guard of the light, wondering if they had spotted a shape in the distance.

A piercing screech, like the steel being slowly dragged against slate, ground against the ears of everyone in the clearing. A wind did not blow in, but the fires were terrified by the sound and crept lower to the ground.

Swords sang from the scabbards and another scream sounded, but not from creature. A soldier was flung back and onto one of the dim fires, putting it out entirely and leaving only one fire. Many expected him to get up, his back scorched in the flames. He did not.

From his peripheral vision Cullen though he saw a cloaked figure that shifted and moved above the snow. Its face was hidden within the depths of its cowl and it held a wicked blade that appeared to be made out of white light.

The soldiers were rigid for a moment, realizing where the beast was. For a long minute, there was a still staredown between them and it.

The being faded from existence, its cloak melding with the shadows behind it.

"The fire…" Cullen breathed, before its respite. "Torches! Get torches!" he cried, but as if on cue, the dervish appeared again and whirled through the soldiers in front of it. The commander watched as their blades passed through its cloak and did not pierce it. He and his lieutenant managed to grab nearby branches, dousing them in the dwindling fire beside them.

The monster has no issues in disengaging the entire patrol. It sat within the shadows just opposite of the fire's flames, waiting for either the unholy wind to take it out or for the pair to step out. In the distance he could hear the horses crying in fright, carried on the wind. This was not a fight they could win.

Cullen and his lieutenant exchanges glances. "The horses…" he breathed. He had never anticipated fully facing the beast, this was supposed to be an observation. He had not thought it would be as powerful or intelligent as it was. The whole purpose of this mission had been to observe, not to truly make contact with it. He had not thought it would take out his entire patrol as if they were sheep

While his lieutenant was circling around, a torch in his hand, a blazing beacon, Cullen placed himself in front of the creature, his sword glinting madly against the firelight. Anger swirled within him, anger for his lost men, anger for his foolishness, and anger for the atrocity he faced. Whatever it was, it needed to be destroyed.

The being reared, its misty white blade flashing against the light.

Cullen swung his torch in its direction, the creature evaded but screeched in great distaste. It disliked the light, but was too set on its prey to leave… they had invaded its territory.

Cullen heard the thundering of horses behind him, the horses of the fallen had been let loose as a distraction. He tried to use the noise to his advantage, but as he lunged forward, the humanoid brought its wicked dagger down. Cullen deflected it, but as he did, his blade shattered against the impact with the the monster's. Stunned, he staggered back and before he could deter the being with the torch, it wisped forward and sunk its weapon into his shoulder.

It should have glanced off of his armor, but the blade was made of something unknown to the commander. It pierced his armor, leaving no mark, but seared deep into Cullen's flesh, making him cry out in terrible pain. Nothing could describe the onrush of emotions that forced him to his knees. The blade in which it wielded was unholy.

Before he could process what was happening, everything went dark.