Val Royeux-The Imperial Palace.
The Inquisitor, Benjamin Trevelyan was in his finest blue fine wear. The same ones he crafted just for his own use after they had saved the Empress. He wanted something flashier and more fitting in combat, while at the same time wanted something more suited for combat should he ever have to engage in combat in a formal occasion again. And the armor was pretty tough. Despite everything else.
Like this situation right here Ben thought.
Cassandra, in the meantime, had polished her armor to a sheen. It was practically shining. Varric's hair was in a similar state. Though there was nothing much he could do to the faded leather armor he wore. Still even the Dwarf had managed to look at least somewhat presentable during all of this. Dorian was looking as dashing as ever. His hair was clean, perfectly arranged, his mustache had also come to a nice shine, making it almost hard to look at, and his suit was practical to Ben's. Practical, yet formal enough where he did not stick out like a sore thumb.
Of course in this crowd we all stick out.
This was mainly since none of the Inquisition's agents he sent here, were in Orlesian masks. The rest of the crowd, some dancing, some milling, some enjoying light conversation on the side, everyone else was. Some were even hopping about serving drinks and refreshments to the assembled crowds of nobles.
Benjamin just watched from the sidelines. But it was hard to see and harder to judge anyone who was wearing a mask. You could study an intelligence picture or read a physical description and instantly recognize a person, unless they were in disguise. But the masks of the Orlesian game paid attention to such subtle…inhuman details as to make it hard to understand the differences. Unless you played the game, and made it your life work…which Benjamin hadn't.
So he had to rely on his people.
And the good will of the Orlesian court.
Though the one person he did recognize, mask and all, drifted over to him now.
Empress Celene curtsied slightly before him, and spoke, her voice as sweet and cultured as ever, "Ah Inquisitor, I am pleased to see you again, attending the Southern Powers Conference."
The Southern Powers Conference?
"You did get the note Josephine sent I assume?" The Inquisitor asked.
Celene glanced around and her smile faltered, a small percentage, but it was still noticeable. "I did…and I appreciate your attending this party, but the situation is…delicate."
"Go on." The Inquisitor said flatly at her.
She sighed, "I have called this summit to discuss…recent events. Representatives from several nations of Southern Thedas, and groups, are in attendance to discuss a post-breach world and what to do about it…collectively."
Benjamin whistled, "The first of its kind in history, aside from some of the ramblings going on during Blights and the Exalted Marches. First time in peace."
She nodded, "exactly, Ferelden, the Free Marches, Nevarra, Antiva, the Inquisition, the Templar Order, and other Chantry representatives. I even tried to get Tevinter to join us, they refused."
"The perfect place for an assassination." Benjamin mused, nodding to himself.
The Empress sighed, "My fears as well, especially if they seek to blame it on one of the delegates."
"Are you sure you do not want to reschedule?" Benjamin pressed.
Celene laughed lightly, yet cruelly, "It was hard enough to get all these nations here in the first place. Separate domains. Some of them even bitter enemies. No, I cannot reschedule. Not now."
Benjamin nodded, "As you wish."
With that he broke up and rejoined the crowd.
Cassandra was waiting for him with her arms folded over her chest, "Well?"
Benjamin turned around half way to gaze back at the Empress, who was now talking to a woman in a flowing gown. "Well, she is not going to postpone this event."
Cassandra snorted disgustedly.
Benjamin snorted, "Its going to be a long night."
"Indeed." She sighed.
The Grand Cathedral
Brandon was having a hard time keeping up with the flowing gown and swishing cloak ahead of him. Vivieen's long strides powered on ahead of him, leaving him slightly in the dust, and huffing behind her.
"My lady, please close. I cannot protect you if you will not stand still."
"Protect me darling? The Inquisition is not the only protection I have here. Nor are you the greatest. I have Knights and bards strewn throughout the crowd." Vivienne smiled, "And I am a powerful mage, my dear. Quite capable of looking after myself."
Brandon gritted his teeth, "nevertheless we are here to protect you. There is a threat on your life. And you aren't making my job any easier."
"I should hope not."
Brandon sighed, stopping and falling back as she powered on.
He turned to Sera and leaned over to her, whispering lightly, "Is she always like this?"
By way of answer she began giggling shrilly. Then descended into quiet murmurings.
"Right."
"She has to act the part, or she fears the part will act her." Cole whispered next to him.
OK then…
"Do you have any inklings on the crowd?" Brandon said gesturing around.
Like the Empress Divine Victoria was holding a soiree for the faithful. With a lot of people in attendance, including most people not politically important enough…yet wanted to be important…to attend the more important diplomatic meeting across the Capitol. Granted that was a meeting for ambassadors and heads of state.
"It is…loud in here…" Cole started. "Dancing, blinding, confusing, people wanting, to belong, to hide, to catch the eye of the people around them, agendas twisting around their ankles like snakes in the grass."
"Oh? People are hiding?" Brandon asked eyes darting around.
"From…themselves. They would rather be here then home, alone, where they only have themselves and their failures to face."
Brandon sighed. "Anything about assassins? Murderous rages?"
Cole blinked. "No."
Brandon shook his head. "Lovely."
With that he stayed to the edge of the crowd. Watching from the sidelines. Waiting for some sign that something would happen. And hoping he would be fast enough to react.
The Divine had finally stopped her torrent. Now she was talking with a woman in a pale mask, with pale white skin, which sheened under the make-up.
His eyes narrowed. Waiting for some twitch of the woman's muscles which would indicate she was about to draw a knife or levied a poisonous kiss.
Instead, after five minutes, Victoria smiled, and moved on, deeper into the crowd.
Brandon followed, sighing deeply.
I guess I am not that good at this after all. Another failure.
Imperial Palace
Benjamin Trevelyan stalked through the room looking left and right for any signs of any of the potential assassins. Cassandra was on the exact other side of the room mirroring with his movements, also watching.
There are far too many people here. Benjamin thought to himself.
And there were. And more were arriving all the time. Fortunately most of the new arrivals did not have masks on. But the Grand Ballroom of the Imperial Palace was starting to get packed.
Careful Benjamin, he cautioned himself, observe the crowd, look for patterns, not the people.
His eyes snapped open, and now he was scanning the crowd. Eyes rapidly moving back and forth. Feeling the room. Using all of his senses, natural and unnatural, to determine where the threat was. Observing every single detail. But none at all.
His head suddenly stopped. Wait what did I see?
He looked around again and saw him. A man with a mop of dark hair, wearing a traveling cloak. But he looked familiar. Though Benjamin did not see his face. He knew better. It felt right. Nodding, he made his decision and moved over to Cassandra.
"I think Durnham is here, though he seems to have little interest in the events itself."
"What?" She said a bit too loudly drawing a bit too much attention, and then in a bitter whisper, "Are you certain?"
"No, I am not…but I do not think he is the Assassin. I will confront him. You remain here and watch the crowd for his assassin. I am sure they wil be along any moment now." He turned to leave.
But Cassandra grabbed his arm, spinning him around, "But Inquisitor…Ben…you should be here. You are the Inquisitor!"
"And you are a Seeker of Truth," He said.
She snorted, "Yes, and that worked out well didn't it?"
Benjamin sighed, and took her by the shoulder. "I have faith in you Cassandra, I trust you."
"Yes sir," She sighed.
He beamed. "And make sure you talk to Varric. He may know. May be able to pick up on something."
"Yes Inquisitor." She nodded.
With that he quickly made his way, cutting through the crowd. Though his action hardly drew the notice around him. So much were they embroiled in the game.
He knew where he was going somehow, it made sense given the circumstances.
His path led him to the back frooms of the Imperial Palace. Long stretching corridors sprawled out before him. The torches along the walls down to their embers casting even longer shadows. It was hard to make out the finer details. But Benjamin Trevelyan plunged on.
He turned left, and another right. Each time he would see the swish of a cloak just ahead of him, passing across the corridor.
Up some stairs he went next, his neck craning around, and still he did not achieve a positive ID on his quarry.
Finally though, the cloak disappeared. So, either his prey had eluded him or he had found one of the rooms to hide in. Benjamin's eyes darted around the empty corridor, only three doors in the room. He knew that two of them led to Imperial Servant's quarters.
Which left…
He went over to the right door, and twisted the handle.
He opened into a grand balcony overlooking the Imperial Gardens, and even out beyond that, the rest of Val Royeux itself.
And standing there, off to one corner, turning around to see him, was Knight-Captain Durnham.
"Hello Inquisitor Trevelyan, shall we play?"
Benjamin nodded grimly, before closing the door behind him.
The Grand Cathedral
Brandon Durrow continued his watch. Along with the guards of the Divine. Some of them were giving him looks as if he was the threat. Which, of course, he wasn't.
The rest of the Inquisition forces were spread out throughout the room. He had put them there.
Figures, I am the Warrior here, I have the experience and the expertise. At least for this sort of work.
He put his hips on his hands and admired his handy work. There are twenty guards here, and several members of the Inquisition, unless something goes wrong there is no way anyone is getting close to the Divine.
A squeal crashed into his thoughts and he looked around, wildly. A young noble lady, her mask already eschew, was backpedaling rapidly, almost spilling herself on the floor.
Two men burst through the crowd with her, dressed all in black, and carrying daggers on their hips.
Brandon leapt forward, interposing himself between the Divine, her guards, and the new threat.
But that wasn't all, more gasps, or shouts of alarm rang through the hall like tiny explosions. More men came through the line of revilers, more than there should have been.
Brandon drew his sword with a scrape of sword on leather, and brought his shield up. He twisted the former around pointing it at one of the groups.
His eyes darted around to the others, assessing his chances, as the rest of the Inquisition came around him. Preparing themselves for battle.