Upon our return to Haven, Mother Giselle suggested that I travel to Val Royeaux to confront the Chantry, who had categorically denounced me, to nobody’s surprise. Apparently they didn’t want a herald in the first place, and they definitely didn’t want one with pointy ears and prodigious magical talent. So, I gathered up my trusty crew and off we went to Val Royeaux, capital of the Orlesian Empire and the most fabulous hive of scum and villainy you could ever hope to visit.
We must be cautious.
And really, it was quite an eventful trip. A Revered Mother yelled at me before she got cold-cocked by a Templar, then the Templars yelled at me. Somebody shot an arrow in my general direction that had a message wrapped around it telling me to search for “red things.” I got invited to a party by an Iron Maiden. I met the leader of the rebel mages, Grand Enchanter Fiona, who wanted me to come to Redcliffe village and talk. And the furniture shop refused to let me in. Oh, and when I was leaving, I couldn’t help but notice that nobody had helped the Revered Mother who had taken the punch earlier. I mean, I had wandered around the whole area, poked around for all the interesting tidbits of Val Royeaux history scattered about, and done some window-shopping, but she was still just lying there. Pretty sad, really. And odd, because she was clutching her stomach after being struck in the back of the head. I decided the most prudent course of action was to just let her stay there as long as the Maker intended and go about my business.
Somewhere in the Chant there must be a line explaining that prayer is the best way to help somebody to their feet.
I wanted to follow the leads that the aforementioned arrow and party invitation had given me before heading back to Haven. Both of them were in, or at least near, Val Royeaux, and I didn’t really want to go back to that place if I could help it. Besides the backstabbing, Game-playing, mask-wearing populace, there was far too much marble and gold and not enough dirt and trees for my liking. Anyways, the arrow led me to red things that took the form of more notes, and the red things led me to a dark alley in the dead of night. A dark alley with several idiots who wanted to kill me. So, I threw some fire into their faces, then met another idiot who talked too much and, as a result, was also promptly shot in the face by an elf. Only, for once, that elf wasn’t me.
The start of a beautiful friendship.
Her name was Sera. Or Red Jenny. Both, really, but mainly Sera, it’s complicated. I honestly couldn’t believe it. Another elf with a desire to help people, a sense of humour, and a penchant for shooting malignant idiots in the face. She just did it with a bow and arrows instead of fire. After dispatching some reinforcements, who were without trousers thanks to Sera (which actually turned out to be a tactical disadvantage for me, I mean, have you ever tried to conjure bolts of flame while giggling?), we got down to business. It took me a minute to figure out what exactly she was on about, but shortly thereafter, the Inquisition had a new member and I had found a kindred spirit.
What’s the opposite of a kindred spirit? An unrelated opposite? Doesn’t have quite the same impact, really. I’ll work on that, but whatever it’s called, that’s what I found at my next stop. After sending Sera to Haven, I attended the party to which I had been invited in Val Royeaux. And by “party,” I actually mean “intensely boring gathering of stuffy rich people.” Not my kind of affair. Things did liven up when yet another idiot tried to goad me into a fight. Now, even I know that a fancy party is neither the time nor the place for face-melting, but this guy was really pushing it. I didn’t have to show him what happened when a masked moron was struck by lightning, however, as our host for the evening, Vivienne, or Madame de Fer, appeared and left him frozen in place.
He should have just let it go.
Vivienne claimed to be the leader of the “loyal mages,” those who still stood with the Chantry and served the people rather than their own ends. While I appreciated that sentiment, I didn’t really like her, if I’m being honest. She was haughty, wearing a dress that was worth more (financially speaking, at least) than everything I had ever owned, and wanted to stick mages back in the Circles of Magi. The Circles being the Chantry-run, Templar-guarded prison-schools that had caused much of the tension leading to the mage rebellion in the first place. Also, despite Viv’s nickname, she was disappointingly non-metallic. But, she had the connections and skills to make a sizeable contribution to the Inquisition and, far more importantly, wanted to use them to restore order to Thedas. We may not have seen eye to eye on everything, but I’m not foolish enough to turn away that kind of help. No matter how ridiculously huge that help’s collar might be.
Speaking of huge, I was made aware of another potential ally upon our return to Haven. A representative of Bull’s Chargers, a mercenary company, had come to meet with the Inquisition and extend another invitation. This time it wasn’t to an Orlesian party, but something far less dangerous: a fight with some Tevinters. You know, the empire that used to run most of the world before Andraste came along, and who still want to run things. So, we packed up and headed for the Storm Coast, a stretch of rain-battered rocks alongside the Waking Sea occupied by bandits, bears, a giant, and a dragon. And a giant fighting a dragon.
This is awesome!
The dragon won, by the way, and then flew off. After that indescribably phenomenal spectacle, we got down to actually exploring the area. The first thing I discovered there wasn’t some interesting artifact or ruin, it was that Sera had somehow managed to lose her bow somewhere between the alley where we’d met and the Storm Coast. I know she had one in that alley, because of all the face-shooting. She didn’t even have an excuse as to where the thing went, it was just gone, for no discernible reason. Conveniently, though, we found a nice one stashed away in a nearby cave, which I promptly tied to her wrist. We also encountered Bull’s Chargers and their leader (the aforementioned “huge”), a Qunari named the Iron Bull, in the process of clearing out the Tevinters. After the fight, we sat down, talked things out, and in the end the Chargers joined the Inquisition. And by “joined,” I mean “got paid a lot of gold to fight.” The Iron Bull himself immediately admitted to being a Qunari spy. I didn’t see a problem there. He also offered to tag along with me on my personal adventures, a proposal I readily accepted. Anybody who has arms thicker than my torso that is willing to use said appendages against anything trying to squash me is welcome to stand by my side anytime, even if I have to pay them to be there.
Just after the first time I saw Bull go horns-deep in someone.
After another side trip or two, it was time to head back to the Hinterlands. In addition to completing some unfinished business there, I was on the lookout for a Grey Warden named Blackwall. The Grey Wardens, if you don’t already know, are an order of secretive, egalitarian, elite warriors and mages committed to protecting our world from the darkspawn. The darkspawn being an horrific race of mutated beings that live underground and are constantly looking for a sleeping Archdemon that they can wake up. When an Archdemon arises, it leads an attack on the surface world, called a Blight, spreading their poisonous taint and killing many, many people. The Wardens are not only experts in fighting darkspawn, but the only ones capable of truly killing an Archdemon and, thus, stopping a Blight. So, a handy group to have around. At this point, however, most of the Wardens had mysteriously disappeared and we speculated that Blackwall might know why. After a quick fight with some randoms, a common occurrence when I meet new friends, I made Blackwall’s acquaintance. He was pleasant enough, though a bit dour. I think most Wardens are like that. Maybe that’s what drinking a darkspawn-blood cocktail does to you. Wait, that’s their big secret and I’m not supposed to know about it? Uh, sorry, forget all that. {Better yet, just edit out the last few lines, I really don’t want the Wardens angry with me -Sam} Blackwall didn’t know where the rest of the Wardens had got to, but he did agree to pitch in. My team needed more beard, so I was happy to bring him along. As someone incapable of growing facial hair, I have come to appreciate well-kept whiskers. Though, I honestly didn’t think I’d bring him along all that often. I mean, he and Cassandra do essentially the same thing and, even taking his mint beard into account, she’s more pleasant to look at.
I could’ve taken that arrow to the face, no problem.
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