Greg,

Read the letter attached first. It's from Maeve, she sent it to Orzammar, probably guessed that someone here would know where you are. Once you've read it, and gotten yourself a strong drink, then open my second letter.

And yes, it's bad enough that she's writing you.

Carlos

Carlos,

Bethany and I choked down most of a bottle together when we read that. Holy hell but things just keep going from bad to worse, don't they? I want to say that I can't believe it, but like you said, the fact that she actually wrote us willingly tells me its the truth. Especially since she still made it clear she wants no further contact between us.

Elissa has stepped up recruitment, but we can't take anyone here to search for the prison. Bethany and I are the only non-Wardens present, and there's no way we can bring a Hawke near those wards. I think our best bet may be to approach Dorian early, use that angle to get an understanding of what the Venatori are up to.

I know it's a gamble, but our options are very limited right now. I'll work that approach if you can start checking in on everyone else. We need to know if this is someone new, someone we missed, or if someone's gone missing.

Greg & Bethany

P.S. If she's right about that letter she found, we should start writing in code. I'll try and come up with a cypher we can use.

To Carlos, Advisor to King Bhelon

From Alexender Bjugstad

I'm still alive and sane, or as sane as anyone in this medieval shithole is. No one from back home has approached me since Greg met me in Denerim. I'll keep an eye out for anyone odd, but right now all of my forge's contracts are with the Ferelden crown.

Will keep you posted if that changes. Thank you for the well wishes regarding my marriage, the wife appreciated the gifts.

Alex

To Carlos, Advisor to King Bhelon

From Professor Tiffany Laurent

Val Royeaux is the same as it has been since I got here. The usual politics are fairly awful both inside the University and out, but I haven't heard anything about the Venatori. I'll be on guard, don't worry about me.

Returning to our usual correspondence, I heard a rumor this morning about a Qunari mercenary who is apparently as suave as he is handsome. I'm sure we can all guess who it is, but I don't have a firm location on him just yet. I'll keep my ears open, but any information will be delayed as usual. Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll come through the capital for a bit.

The sniping between Celene and Gaspard's bards is as bad as ever, even in the University's halls, and I'm not going to risk getting too involved in that shadow war.

Otherwise everything is generally proceeding as expected. I haven't heard anything but rumor regarding Leliana, though that's not very surprising, but the word coming out of the Divine's office is that Cassandra is being run ragged trying to put out fires. Apparently the Chantry has finally woken up to just how corrupt the Templars are, and how many Seekers were enabling them, and is trying to do something about it.

That doesn't sound like what happened in canon. Not sure if it was what we did in Ferelden, our Elven renegade's actions, or both, but either way I'll keep you updated.

Tiffany

To Carlos, Advisor to King Bhelon

From Choi Hana

Carlos,

I swung through Haven as you requested. The lunatic trio are all still there, still saying that they're completely fine waiting for Inquisition to start. I warned them, but you can guess how seriously they took it.

Honestly after four years and however many of us have died, you'd think they'd know better.

Also, I know that you had to ask on his behalf, but there's no way I'm going anywhere near Kirkwall to try and spy on that woman for him. That city is truly cursed, and I would rather not be there whenever the next explosion of violence occurs.

Also x 2, tell Greg that the next time he wants something, he can ask me himself.

I'm going to stay in Redcliffe for the rest of the summer if you need anything else.

Your friend,

Hana

Greg,

Good news, almost everyone responded that they're all right.

Bad news, I need you to send someone to Jader. Miguel didn't write back, and no one can remember hearing from him in the last few months.

Carlos

To: Carlos

From: Bethany Hawke

Carlos,

Writing from the Chantry in Jader, posing as a lay sister forced to transfer messages as a punishment.

I'm sorry, but Miguel's dead. I talked to his neighbors, but no one knows who killed him. Just that they found his body floating in the harbor one morning with a dozen knife wounds in his back. The local chantry sold off everything that he still had in his apartment, and confirmed that they found strange journals. Those were apparently burned under the assumption they were being used for criminal records.

No one here quite knows what he was up to, and without his journals, I don't think we'll ever know what he was doing either. Probably not trying to live a quiet life like he claimed between Origins and Inquisition.

I'm not going to linger on the chance that his attackers remain, not without support. Greg and I will be heading north soon to deal with the upcoming event. While he doesn't think she should be told, I'm going to tell you to tell Maeve whatever you think she should know regarding events. Send your follow up to Cumberland, we'll be waiting there for a little while until it's time to head to the chateau.

Brosca may have made her our enemy, but she's clearly intelligent enough to know that there are greater threats in this world. If we can establish any kind of peace between us, maybe she could talk to my sister for me.

Bethany

To Maeve Anderson, Dame of Kirkwall

From Carlos Rodriguez, Advisor to King Bhelon of Orzammar

Miss Anderson,

Please forgive the crude code. I hope that you will understand it regardless.

I received your letter on behalf of our mutual acquaintance, and forwarded it to him. We were both suitably alarmed by your claims and are going to take steps to reach out to Sparkler in advance. We know that it is a gamble, but at the moment we have no assets in Rome, or other means to investigate the Hostile Corporation operating in that city.

At the moment we have confirmed that all but one of our agents remain alive and accounted for. Our sole casualty was in Jader. We cannot confirm if he was killed by the same organization you encountered, but we intend to investigate.

Given your warnings, we entirely agree, and are putting precautions in place. As a result we will not be providing further details by letter. If you encounter, or hear of, any sightings of Dragons or Wolves, please write me at once without providing details, and I will relay Sunshine to speak to you in person. And yes, I will ensure her husband does not accompany her on any such trip.

If we encounter any similar events, Sunshine will bring the news to you directly as quickly as we can locate you.

Respectfully,

Carlos Rodriguez

P.S. I apologize on our behalf for what happened in Kirkwall. Rest assured no one was happy regarding those events, and both our mutual acquaintance and his Griffons have been made perfectly aware of our opinions.

Ráne

Longing carefully shadowed the mortal, its power swirling in gentle arcs, doing its best to lend some degree of stealth to their careful exploration of the Fade.

Its best was, sadly, not nearly good enough. For all of Maeve's talents, and the mortal had proven surprising in what she could accomplish, magically speaking...

...magically speaking she was anything but subtle. Or quiet. Past descriptions of the mortal's emotions as akin to an exploding paint factory were more accurate than Longing would have wished, just as the discordant noise of her magic made the spirit wish it truly had ears to cover.

True, she had improved quite a bit under Longing's tutelage, but she remained very much a work in progress.

"This is a pain in the fucking ass." Maeve let out one of her many varieties of petulant groans. "Can't I just, I don't know. will myself to be somewhere else? Do I really have to learn to make my own path like this?"

Longing felt its power pulse in amusement. "You could, yes, if you applied enough raw power. You would also be incredibly loud, and draw plenty of attention. One such as the Nightmare would easily redirect you to his clutches."

She grumbled a bit, but also moved closer to its shell. A mortal's desire for safety that Longing had come to find rather endearing. It moved an arm of that shell around her thin shoulders, letting her power gently caress the mortal's soul as they walked together. "I can bring us back to the Dream-Catcher should anything happen."

"You'd better." Maeve was clearly trying for anger, but the fact that she stayed close would have betrayed her even without their tether.

Her uncertain fear was readily apparent across the bond.

"Try again." Longing urged, "Perhaps a road, this time."

The mortal took in a breath it didn't need, nodding once. Longing stilled itself, focusing on the way she began to bring her power together. To listen past the horrible, grating noise of her clumsy pulls at the ether, to focus instead on what she wove it into.

The dichotomy of that remained... striking, incredible, wrong.

She did not simply form a spell by her will, all as a single effort, as every other mage did. Instead she... quite literally wove it together, piece by piece. What any mage Longing had taught could do with one spell, Maeve required five. The clashing of those threads clumsily slamming together was the source of the discord, of the sheer volume of her spells.

Yet it also... gave her magic a depth that Longing was still puzzling over. There was a layered resilience, a permanence to them that went beyond their increased cost of energy. It was one of many things she was researching about the strange mortal that had become its favorite among their kind, and not just for what she offered Longing's plans.

She was... interesting. Amusing. Never boring.

Longing watched as Maeve began to reshape the Fade around them, feeling a hundred wisps and a dozen lesser spirits flee from the cacophony that resulted.

It formed slowly, as a mirage at first, a distant haze. It sharpened quickly as Maeve worked longer, pulling at her memories, filling the spell with the scents, the touch, the sight of a blackened street with yellow lines.

"...huh." Maeve drawled, slowly relaxing into the side of the shell. "It actually worked that time."

"It was the smell of the asphalt, I think." Longing provided. "That resonated the strongest of what sensations you used. The rest of it filled in from your memories after that."

She hummed, reaching out with a foot to tap at the street. "Even feels real. Real-ish, I guess. How far does it go?"

Longing reached out, checking. "In the Fade such measurements of distance are rather immaterial. Far enough that others have noticed an alien road suddenly breaching their currents. I believe we should return before they come to investigate."

"What about the road?"

"It will fade quickly enough." It assured her, sliding the other arm of its shell around the mortal, pulling her close. "Are you prepared?"

A nod let Longing cocoon her in power, the pair of them surging back through the currents of the Fade to the safety of the mortal's Veil.