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Title: Taking Flight
Author: AllForFire
Game: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Pairing/Characters: Female Qunari Inquisitor Mhyrra Adaar/ Sera (Though it isn't the primary focus of this particular piece.), Roxanne Hawke, All of the Inner Circle.
Disclaimer: Dragon Age characters, settings, and all in-game dialogue property of Bioware. I only own my Hawke, Roxanne, and my wonderful Inquisitor, Mhyrra.^^
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“Ow my achin’ everything.” Sera groaned as she stretched, both of them out of bed and dressed.

“You’re the one who asked for it.” Mhyrra supplied with crossed arms and a cheeky grin.

Sera returned it in full, winking as she brought her head back forward.

“Worth. Every. Kink.”

Rolling her eyes, Mhyrra strode over to the door and held it open for Sera to saunter through before shutting it and descending into the pits of mayhem that this day was invariably going to become.

Back in the War Room, this time she only sent for Hawke, Varric and her advisors, along with Dorian, Solas and Blackwall. Between their member with the best knowledge of Tevinter History, their most experienced connoisseur of unorthodox magic, and a senior Warden, they would be tackling the question Corypheus from all angles. There was no need to include anyone else if it was only going to increase the risk of things blowing up again.

She could have potentially told Sera she could sit this out as well if she wanted, but besides having neither the want nor need to do so, that would be like telling a hound not to chase after a skeleton.

The doors opened, Varric the first to enter, Roxanne behind him.

“Top of the morning!” Varric tossed. He looked as exhausted as Hawke, but the twinkle in his eyes told Mhyrra that letters had indeed been sent, and just how he felt about that.

“Varric.” She greeted. She turned to Roxanne. “Hawke.”

Said woman raised her eyes to hers. Tired and unreadable, she nonetheless offered a small half-smile.

“Inquisitor. Thanks for the do-over, I guess. Hopefully I’ll actually be able to tell you something useful this time.”

“Think nothing of it. After all, no sense in pilling more critique on you. I’d hope your compatriots will be doing quite enough of that when they get here.”

Roxanne groaned, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m regretting sending those damn letters from the moment Varric pulled me through signing them. But then at least, I get to hear just how they think I cocked things up right before we all get torched.”

Mhyrra would have sighed, but let it slide entirely. At least she had actually went through with it. That was as good as they were going to get at this point.

Thankfully the doors opened, and in strode all three advisors, Solas and Blackwall, all offering morning greetings.

“Thank you all so much for agreeing to get the early worm.” Mhyrra joked. “Where’s Dorian though?”

“Here.” Said man grumbled as he ambled through the door, rubbing his eyes. “I do hope this is important, I have a very specific morning routine I just had to interrupt, not to mention I didn’t get the best sleep.”

“Dorian.” Mhyrra chimed sweetly. “Manners.”

Dorian stopped short, lowering his hand to see Hawke standing there, smirking at his usual antics that the rest of their little group had long since gotten used to. Scrambling to recover himself, he hastily tried to erase his blunder.

“Ah, uhm, good morning, serah Hawke, everyone!” He rambled breathlessly, bowing in greeting.

“No need to be so contrite, sir Dorian.” Roxanne assured with whimsy. “I myself find my person hardly worth the effort of getting up in the morning, let alone that the information I bring is merely on the subject of the abomination that nearly singed you all to a crisp. Egad, I shudder in my soul to think I interrupted your beauty sleep.”

Dorian loosed a long-suffering sigh, palming his brow as he took a place next to the others, who barely hid their smirks. Though Varric was smirking more at the sight that Dorian’s antics had managed to draw Roxanne a little further out of the ditch she’d thrown herself in.

“Indeed, finally getting onto the subject of said crag-faced egomaniac,” Mhyrra cut in before any more shenanigans could ensue, though she herself still couldn’t help but crack a smile at them. At the moment though, it was time to be serious as she turned to Roxanne. “Varric said that you fought Corypheus before?”

“Fought and killed.” Roxanne corrected, nodding. “The Grey Wardens were holding him in some remote prison in the Vinmark Mountains. But then he somehow used his connection to the Darkspawn to influence them.”

“What? That’s impossible!” Blackwall protested. “There’d be no reason for the Wardens to lock up such a threat instead of slaying it on the spot!”

“Well, maybe not the Grey Wardens of today, sir.” Roxanne countered. “But to my understanding and experience of it all, Corypheus had originally been imprisoned centuries ago, quite possibly by the very first Grey Wardens ever if we’re truly to believe his claims of being one of the Original Magisters who first unleashed the Taint on Thedas and, ergo, one of the very first Darkspawn in existence.”

“We have little solid, reliable evidence either way, but lacking an alternative theory, it would at least be most cautious to consider the matter for the most part true, but with a large pinch of salt.” Dorian supplied. “It does raise the question though, if he could reach out to the Wardens’ minds, why did none of this catastrophe happen sooner?”

“Because he could only start doing so once the seal had finally started to weaken, some number of years ago now. And when that happened…” Here she turned her heating gaze towards Blackwall. “They conscripted my father’s aid and forced him to use blood magic to reinforce it once more. By holding my mother hostage at knife point. While she was pregnant with me.”

A ghastly silence descended upon the room.

“Typical, short-sighted, ill-thought, foolish…” Solas rambled under his breath.

“Preposterous! The Wardens would never commit such an atrocity!” Blackwall exclaimed.

“I met the fallen Warden who held the knife, sir.” She snarled. “At the same time I met the imbecilic Warden woman who wanted to release Corypheus in order to use him as a tool against future Blights, sending the Carta after me that led us to the prison in the first place!”

She breathed once, twice. “I mean no disrespect to you, the Hero of Ferelden or any of the other truly heroic Grey Wardens of history, but for a Senior Warden, you sure seem naïvely ignorant of the lengths your own Order is willing to resort to!”

Blackwall could only descend into silence, stricken.

“Regardless.” Mhyrra broke the silence before anyone else cut in. “Clearly this woman you mention must have succeeded, else we wouldn’t be here now. But I thought you said you killed him?”

“I killed Janeka when she wouldn’t listen to reason, swallowing my bile towards Larius, the ghoulified Warden who had threatened my mother, because at least he still had enough sense to know that Corypheus was manipulating Janeka and the other Wardens to set him free. That was the reason he’d coerced my father into helping him prevent it years before, after all.

Unfortunately, after having already descended so deeply into the prison, it became that the only way out was to see things through to the end, to use my own blood to undo the seals my father had put in place, and go through Corypheus himself to reach our escape.

When he awoke, he acted all the world like he was still a millennia ago, shouting to Dumat of all things, referring to how the Dwarven Empire could let their structures decay so utterly, and demanding that we, his ‘slaves’ kneel before him. Suffice to say we told him exactly where he could shove it.

The fight was brutal, but in the end, we won. Maybe he was still weak from having just woken up, I don’t know, and I didn’t care.

And I didn’t just think I killed him!” Hawke stressed once more. “When it was over, he was dead on the ground, torso singed and punched full of stab wounds! I watched him bleed out and stop twitching!” She shook her head slightly, looking at Blackwall again. “Maybe his tie to the Blight somehow brought him back…” To Dorian and Solas. “Or maybe it’s old Tevinter magic…” Finally to Mhyrra. “But he was dead, I swear it!”

Mhyrra looked at the three men.

Solas shook his head. “I know of no such magic that can bring back the dead. And the true nature of the Blight is one of the rare things that the Fade does not allow me to glimpse.”

“And there is most certainly no record of any Tevinter magic that can give life back to the lifeless.” Dorian added. “If there was, you’d think we’d never have lost another war for the rest of eternity.”

All turned to Blackwall.

The man in question could offer nothing more on the question, unease clear on his face as he shook his head.

Moments passed by, before something stuck out in Leliana’s mind.

“What about the ghoulified Warden you ended up siding with?” She queried, all eyes drawn to her. “This ‘Larius’ fellow. Whatever happened to him, after you had slain Corypheus and escaped?”

Roxanne pondered the question, thinking back.

“After I killed Corypheus, he said he “had more clarity” now that the ancient Darkspawn was dead, that he could no longer “hear” him. He thanked me” she spat the words with venom “profusely for his ‘freedom’, before walking away, claiming it wouldn’t be much longer before the Taint finally claimed him for good.

I let him go. As much as I wanted to skewer the bastard, I wanted him to suffer for however much longer the Taint would take to kill him, once his ‘euphoria’ wore off. I assume he’s either dead or mindless by now.”

Silence once again as everyone ruminated.

“So, in summation,” Cullen began “we know why Corypheus came to be upon us and how. And we’re are now just that small amount more certain he is indeed a Darkspawn Magister, as it were. And yet, we’re still no closer to finding out what are his plans beyond attempting to kill the Empress in a few months’ time at the Winter Palace, or how to slay him for good.” He finished with a weary sigh.

“Not quite.” Roxanne replied with a grim tone. “I believe he has something to do, if not everything, with the Wardens’ disappearance throughout Southern Thedas. If they’ve done so, it may likely be that they’ve fallen under Corypheus’ control again.”

Everyone gaped, horror-struck.

“Maker, no…” Blackwall whispered.

In Leliana’s mind, the smiling image of a beautiful red haired, green-eyed elven woman flashed across her mind’s eye, before twisting, warping into something ghastly and unrecognisable as blackness consumed her. Her hand leapt to her mouth at the same time her heart did.

Jolena…

Mhyrra was similarly disturbed, though on a far less personal level. Nevertheless, she was quick to leap to her most burning question.

“If that’s what happened to the Wardens, do you think we can free them?”

“It’s possible.” Roxanne ventured. “But we do need to know more first.” She turned to face everyone.

“I’ve got a friend in the Wardens. He was investigating something unrelated for me. His name is Stroud.”

Here, Varric seemed surprised. “Moustache? Good to know he’s still around and on our side I guess.”

Roxanne nodded “The last time we spoke, he was worried about corruption in the Warden ranks. Since then…nothing.”

“I’d say Corypheus would certainly qualify as corruption in the ranks.” Varric vouched. “Did Moustache disappear along with the rest of the Wardens?”

“No. He told me he’d be hiding in an old smugglers cave near Crestwood.”

Something didn’t quite add up for Mhyrra. Sera voiced her thoughts before she herself could.

“Hang on a tick! If you didn’t even know that Coryphallus was still knockin’ about, what were you doin’ with the Wardens?”

“The Templars in Kirkwall were using a strange form of lyrium. It was red. I’d hoped the Wardens could tell me more about it.” Roxanne confessed.

Cullen grimaced, remembering perfectly, both Meredith’s wicked-looking swords back in the Gallows, as well as the monsters at Haven that his former compatriots had become.

Mhyrra was of a similar thought. “Corypheus had Templars with him at Haven. They clearly looked like they’d been exposed to same sort of lyrium you’re describing.”

Roxanne nodded, acknowledging. “Hopefully Stroud will know more when we find him.”

Everyone mulled over everything that had been said, none more so than Mhyrra. After a moment, she raised herself straighter to address everyone.

“It’s a solid start, whatever the case. It may not lead to anything concrete, but we’ll at least have a better picture of the situation than when we started, and it’s far better than just sitting on our hands while preparing to spring a trap on Corypheus’ agents at the Empress’ Ball in a few months’ time.”

Everyone made some sign of wholehearted agreement. Mhyrra turned to Roxanne with a small smile.

“Thank you for the help Hawke. Looks like you’re more hero than you thought after all.”

Roxanne looked her in the eye.

“I’m doing this as much for myself as for you.” She declared. “Corypheus is my responsibility. I thought I’d killed him for good before. This time, I’ll make sure of it.”

Again, Mhyrra fought down the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh. She realized that with this new development, they would most certainly not be able to wait for Hawke’s friends to arrive, or anyone else for that matter. But she no longer had either the ability, patience or time to reassure or coddle this obsessively self-loathing woman who seemed hell-bent on becoming the next Andraste.

So instead she merely nodded her thanks once more. Then she turned to the rest, Leliana first.

“Send out Harding and her squad to scout and set up a forward camp near Crestwood. If Stroud went into hiding there, it’s not unlikely others are looking for him besides us.” Leliana nodded.

Next was Josephine. “Keep trying to reach out, to the Wardens, the Imperial Court, anyone whom we might need to keep within arms’ reach in the mess to come. And don’t be hesitant to ask Leliana for ‘help’ if it’s necessary.” She nodded, though was clearly unenthused at the thought of asking for her old friend’s current brand of ‘help’.

“Cullen, keep building up our forces and sharpening our recruits. Call me fatalistic, but I get the shaky feeling in my bones that if the Wardens have fallen under Corypheus’ sway, then there sadly might just need to be some blood spilled in this disaster. If we’ve absolutely no other alternative, I’d rather it not be ours.”

She saw Blackwall’s downcast look at her mention, but ignored it. If the Wardens’ minds had truly been warped beyond salvation, she wasn’t about to sacrifice her own people in some vainglorious attempt to appease them.

“At once Inquisitor.” Cullen declared, similarly conscious of just such a scenario.

“The rest of you.” She turned to her present companions. A thin smile spread across her lips.

“Gather up the others and get them up to date. It seems we have the destination of our next road trip.”

“Damn right!” Sera jumped up, pumping her fist. “Savin’ the day, shafting Corphineas right in the arse, and jus’ bein’ Big Freakin’ Heroes. That’s us, yeah?”

Mhyrra’s smile grew.

“That’s us.”

Mhyrra stood at the gates of Skyhold as her men raised the portcullis. Clad in her deep-red, Superbly-crafted Enchanter Armour, with a fresh coat of Felandaris Vitaar shielding her face, the Staff of Tyrdda Bright-Axe – a welcome prize from aiding a group of scholars decipher a map from some landmarks in the Hinterlands – slung to her back and her Spirit Blade strapped to her hip.

She turned to Hawke beside her. The other woman merely nodded back, determined.

She turned to her companions. Her friends.

Some were evidently less enthused than others at the thought of their next adventure. Vivienne had looked positively scandalised when it had been announced to them that it was very likely that Crestwood would be raining at this time of the year. She hoped that Harding and those that left with her ahead of them some hours ago had thought to prepare properly.

And yet, as she looked at each of them in turn, not a single one showed any sign of shirking away or backing down. Warriors, mages, scoundrels, noble-wannabes, Human, Dwarf, Elf, Qunari, Tevinter, Warden…

Whatever they were before, they were the Inquisition. They were her Inquisition.

“Well then!” She drew her staff and pointed out the just-opened gate. “Shall we?”

Bull huffed with a smirk, hefting up on his shoulder that Dragon-Killing Axe that Bonny woman had sold him for a good price, decked in his gleaming crimson Vanguard Armour, Dread menacingly staring out at any who cared to gaze. “Anaan!”

Varric chuckled, adjusting the cuffs of his Hunter coat, Bianca sitting across his back as always, nothing but the finest upgrades gracing Varric’s pride and joy. “We’d better. Story’s not gonna write itself after all. Well, at least nowhere near as well as we would. Though mostly me.”

Dorian’s robes swished as he struck a pose, sleek staff at the ready and palm fizzling with light. “Off to set things right and look dashing while doing it. With me here, we’ve already got half done, so this should be a walk in the park!”

Cole lifted the brim of his hat, his simple, unassuming leathers dull but quite functional, twin serpentine daggers glinting on his back. “People need our help. We have to go. I want to go.”

Vivienne heaved a long-suffering sigh, her choice of attire still outrageously more eye-catching than it appeared practical, though at least she had enough sense to add a protective frontal layer, even as she shimmered a barrier before herself. “Well, if we must.”

Blackwall stood, clad head to toe in solid metal, shield and sword weighing upon him, yet he stayed tall and ready. “For the Wardens.”

Solas merely smiled calmly, dull argent robes wrapped around him as he clutched his staff in his hand, tip to the ground, leaning it forward a tad. “Onward.”

Cassandra was intense and straight-laced as ever, though the spirit brimming in her honey eyes was more daunting than the Burning Eye scrawled across her gleaming black plate and mail, shield at her back and hand on her sword’s pommel. “Into darkness, unafraid.”

“Around the corner, chocolate’s made!” Sera cackled, her bright, sandy Prowler armour slim and simple, but far tougher than it looked, Zinger proudly slung across her back, Silverite shining in the sun. “But, right yeah?” She turned beaming to Mhyrra. “Lead on, oh big, beautiful Inky of ours.”

Mhyrra smiled back, before about-facing and marching forward. And as they all passed underneath the gate, she spoke a final phrase into the wind.

“Once more, into the fray.”

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Title: Taking Flight
Author: AllForFire
Game: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Pairing/Characters: Female Qunari Inquisitor Mhyrra Adaar/ Sera (Though it isn't the primary focus of this particular piece.), Roxanne Hawke, All of the Inner Circle.
Disclaimer: Dragon Age characters, settings, and all in-game dialogue property of Bioware. I only own my Hawke, Roxanne, and my wonderful Inquisitor, Mhyrra.^^
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“Ow my achin’ everything.” Sera groaned as she stretched, both of them out of bed and dressed.

“You’re the one who asked for it.” Mhyrra supplied with crossed arms and a cheeky grin.

Sera returned it in full, winking as she brought her head back forward.

“Worth. Every. Kink.”

Rolling her eyes, Mhyrra strode over to the door and held it open for Sera to saunter through before shutting it and descending into the pits of mayhem that this day was invariably going to become.

Back in the War Room, this time she only sent for Hawke, Varric and her advisors, along with Dorian, Solas and Blackwall. Between their member with the best knowledge of Tevinter History, their most experienced connoisseur of unorthodox magic, and a senior Warden, they would be tackling the question Corypheus from all angles. There was no need to include anyone else if it was only going to increase the risk of things blowing up again.

She could have potentially told Sera she could sit this out as well if she wanted, but besides having neither the want nor need to do so, that would be like telling a hound not to chase after a skeleton.

The doors opened, Varric the first to enter, Roxanne behind him.

“Top of the morning!” Varric tossed. He looked as exhausted as Hawke, but the twinkle in his eyes told Mhyrra that letters had indeed been sent, and just how he felt about that.

“Varric.” She greeted. She turned to Roxanne. “Hawke.”

Said woman raised her eyes to hers. Tired and unreadable, she nonetheless offered a small half-smile.

“Inquisitor. Thanks for the do-over, I guess. Hopefully I’ll actually be able to tell you something useful this time.”

“Think nothing of it. After all, no sense in pilling more critique on you. I’d hope your compatriots will be doing quite enough of that when they get here.”

Roxanne groaned, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m regretting sending those damn letters from the moment Varric pulled me through signing them. But then at least, I get to hear just how they think I cocked things up right before we all get torched.”

Mhyrra would have sighed, but let it slide entirely. At least she had actually went through with it. That was as good as they were going to get at this point.

Thankfully the doors opened, and in strode all three advisors, Solas and Blackwall, all offering morning greetings.

“Thank you all so much for agreeing to get the early worm.” Mhyrra joked. “Where’s Dorian though?”

“Here.” Said man grumbled as he ambled through the door, rubbing his eyes. “I do hope this is important, I have a very specific morning routine I just had to interrupt, not to mention I didn’t get the best sleep.”

“Dorian.” Mhyrra chimed sweetly. “Manners.”

Dorian stopped short, lowering his hand to see Hawke standing there, smirking at his usual antics that the rest of their little group had long since gotten used to. Scrambling to recover himself, he hastily tried to erase his blunder.

“Ah, uhm, good morning, serah Hawke, everyone!” He rambled breathlessly, bowing in greeting.

“No need to be so contrite, sir Dorian.” Roxanne assured with whimsy. “I myself find my person hardly worth the effort of getting up in the morning, let alone that the information I bring is merely on the subject of the abomination that nearly singed you all to a crisp. Egad, I shudder in my soul to think I interrupted your beauty sleep.”

Dorian loosed a long-suffering sigh, palming his brow as he took a place next to the others, who barely hid their smirks. Though Varric was smirking more at the sight that Dorian’s antics had managed to draw Roxanne a little further out of the ditch she’d thrown herself in.

“Indeed, finally getting onto the subject of said crag-faced egomaniac,” Mhyrra cut in before any more shenanigans could ensue, though she herself still couldn’t help but crack a smile at them. At the moment though, it was time to be serious as she turned to Roxanne. “Varric said that you fought Corypheus before?”

“Fought and killed.” Roxanne corrected, nodding. “The Grey Wardens were holding him in some remote prison in the Vinmark Mountains. But then he somehow used his connection to the Darkspawn to influence them.”

“What? That’s impossible!” Blackwall protested. “There’d be no reason for the Wardens to lock up such a threat instead of slaying it on the spot!”

“Well, maybe not the Grey Wardens of today, sir.” Roxanne countered. “But to my understanding and experience of it all, Corypheus had originally been imprisoned centuries ago, quite possibly by the very first Grey Wardens ever if we’re truly to believe his claims of being one of the Original Magisters who first unleashed the Taint on Thedas and, ergo, one of the very first Darkspawn in existence.”

“We have little solid, reliable evidence either way, but lacking an alternative theory, it would at least be most cautious to consider the matter for the most part true, but with a large pinch of salt.” Dorian supplied. “It does raise the question though, if he could reach out to the Wardens’ minds, why did none of this catastrophe happen sooner?”

“Because he could only start doing so once the seal had finally started to weaken, some number of years ago now. And when that happened…” Here she turned her heating gaze towards Blackwall. “They conscripted my father’s aid and forced him to use blood magic to reinforce it once more. By holding my mother hostage at knife point. While she was pregnant with me.”

A ghastly silence descended upon the room.

“Typical, short-sighted, ill-thought, foolish…” Solas rambled under his breath.

“Preposterous! The Wardens would never commit such an atrocity!” Blackwall exclaimed.

“I met the fallen Warden who held the knife, sir.” She snarled. “At the same time I met the imbecilic Warden woman who wanted to release Corypheus in order to use him as a tool against future Blights, sending the Carta after me that led us to the prison in the first place!”

She breathed once, twice. “I mean no disrespect to you, the Hero of Ferelden or any of the other truly heroic Grey Wardens of history, but for a Senior Warden, you sure seem naïvely ignorant of the lengths your own Order is willing to resort to!”

Blackwall could only descend into silence, stricken.

“Regardless.” Mhyrra broke the silence before anyone else cut in. “Clearly this woman you mention must have succeeded, else we wouldn’t be here now. But I thought you said you killed him?”

“I killed Janeka when she wouldn’t listen to reason, swallowing my bile towards Larius, the ghoulified Warden who had threatened my mother, because at least he still had enough sense to know that Corypheus was manipulating Janeka and the other Wardens to set him free. That was the reason he’d coerced my father into helping him prevent it years before, after all.

Unfortunately, after having already descended so deeply into the prison, it became that the only way out was to see things through to the end, to use my own blood to undo the seals my father had put in place, and go through Corypheus himself to reach our escape.

When he awoke, he acted all the world like he was still a millennia ago, shouting to Dumat of all things, referring to how the Dwarven Empire could let their structures decay so utterly, and demanding that we, his ‘slaves’ kneel before him. Suffice to say we told him exactly where he could shove it.

The fight was brutal, but in the end, we won. Maybe he was still weak from having just woken up, I don’t know, and I didn’t care.

And I didn’t just think I killed him!” Hawke stressed once more. “When it was over, he was dead on the ground, torso singed and punched full of stab wounds! I watched him bleed out and stop twitching!” She shook her head slightly, looking at Blackwall again. “Maybe his tie to the Blight somehow brought him back…” To Dorian and Solas. “Or maybe it’s old Tevinter magic…” Finally to Mhyrra. “But he was dead, I swear it!”

Mhyrra looked at the three men.

Solas shook his head. “I know of no such magic that can bring back the dead. And the true nature of the Blight is one of the rare things that the Fade does not allow me to glimpse.”

“And there is most certainly no record of any Tevinter magic that can give life back to the lifeless.” Dorian added. “If there was, you’d think we’d never have lost another war for the rest of eternity.”

All turned to Blackwall.

The man in question could offer nothing more on the question, unease clear on his face as he shook his head.

Moments passed by, before something stuck out in Leliana’s mind.

“What about the ghoulified Warden you ended up siding with?” She queried, all eyes drawn to her. “This ‘Larius’ fellow. Whatever happened to him, after you had slain Corypheus and escaped?”

Roxanne pondered the question, thinking back.

“After I killed Corypheus, he said he “had more clarity” now that the ancient Darkspawn was dead, that he could no longer “hear” him. He thanked me” she spat the words with venom “profusely for his ‘freedom’, before walking away, claiming it wouldn’t be much longer before the Taint finally claimed him for good.

I let him go. As much as I wanted to skewer the bastard, I wanted him to suffer for however much longer the Taint would take to kill him, once his ‘euphoria’ wore off. I assume he’s either dead or mindless by now.”

Silence once again as everyone ruminated.

“So, in summation,” Cullen began “we know why Corypheus came to be upon us and how. And we’re are now just that small amount more certain he is indeed a Darkspawn Magister, as it were. And yet, we’re still no closer to finding out what are his plans beyond attempting to kill the Empress in a few months’ time at the Winter Palace, or how to slay him for good.” He finished with a weary sigh.

“Not quite.” Roxanne replied with a grim tone. “I believe he has something to do, if not everything, with the Wardens’ disappearance throughout Southern Thedas. If they’ve done so, it may likely be that they’ve fallen under Corypheus’ control again.”

Everyone gaped, horror-struck.

“Maker, no…” Blackwall whispered.

In Leliana’s mind, the smiling image of a beautiful red haired, green-eyed elven woman flashed across her mind’s eye, before twisting, warping into something ghastly and unrecognisable as blackness consumed her. Her hand leapt to her mouth at the same time her heart did.

Jolena…

Mhyrra was similarly disturbed, though on a far less personal level. Nevertheless, she was quick to leap to her most burning question.

“If that’s what happened to the Wardens, do you think we can free them?”

“It’s possible.” Roxanne ventured. “But we do need to know more first.” She turned to face everyone.

“I’ve got a friend in the Wardens. He was investigating something unrelated for me. His name is Stroud.”

Here, Varric seemed surprised. “Moustache? Good to know he’s still around and on our side I guess.”

Roxanne nodded “The last time we spoke, he was worried about corruption in the Warden ranks. Since then…nothing.”

“I’d say Corypheus would certainly qualify as corruption in the ranks.” Varric vouched. “Did Moustache disappear along with the rest of the Wardens?”

“No. He told me he’d be hiding in an old smugglers cave near Crestwood.”

Something didn’t quite add up for Mhyrra. Sera voiced her thoughts before she herself could.

“Hang on a tick! If you didn’t even know that Coryphallus was still knockin’ about, what were you doin’ with the Wardens?”

“The Templars in Kirkwall were using a strange form of lyrium. It was red. I’d hoped the Wardens could tell me more about it.” Roxanne confessed.

Cullen grimaced, remembering perfectly, both Meredith’s wicked-looking swords back in the Gallows, as well as the monsters at Haven that his former compatriots had become.

Mhyrra was of a similar thought. “Corypheus had Templars with him at Haven. They clearly looked like they’d been exposed to same sort of lyrium you’re describing.”

Roxanne nodded, acknowledging. “Hopefully Stroud will know more when we find him.”

Everyone mulled over everything that had been said, none more so than Mhyrra. After a moment, she raised herself straighter to address everyone.

“It’s a solid start, whatever the case. It may not lead to anything concrete, but we’ll at least have a better picture of the situation than when we started, and it’s far better than just sitting on our hands while preparing to spring a trap on Corypheus’ agents at the Empress’ Ball in a few months’ time.”

Everyone made some sign of wholehearted agreement. Mhyrra turned to Roxanne with a small smile.

“Thank you for the help Hawke. Looks like you’re more hero than you thought after all.”

Roxanne looked her in the eye.

“I’m doing this as much for myself as for you.” She declared. “Corypheus is my responsibility. I thought I’d killed him for good before. This time, I’ll make sure of it.”

Again, Mhyrra fought down the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh. She realized that with this new development, they would most certainly not be able to wait for Hawke’s friends to arrive, or anyone else for that matter. But she no longer had either the ability, patience or time to reassure or coddle this obsessively self-loathing woman who seemed hell-bent on becoming the next Andraste.

So instead she merely nodded her thanks once more. Then she turned to the rest, Leliana first.

“Send out Harding and her squad to scout and set up a forward camp near Crestwood. If Stroud went into hiding there, it’s not unlikely others are looking for him besides us.” Leliana nodded.

Next was Josephine. “Keep trying to reach out, to the Wardens, the Imperial Court, anyone whom we might need to keep within arms’ reach in the mess to come. And don’t be hesitant to ask Leliana for ‘help’ if it’s necessary.” She nodded, though was clearly unenthused at the thought of asking for her old friend’s current brand of ‘help’.

“Cullen, keep building up our forces and sharpening our recruits. Call me fatalistic, but I get the shaky feeling in my bones that if the Wardens have fallen under Corypheus’ sway, then there sadly might just need to be some blood spilled in this disaster. If we’ve absolutely no other alternative, I’d rather it not be ours.”

She saw Blackwall’s downcast look at her mention, but ignored it. If the Wardens’ minds had truly been warped beyond salvation, she wasn’t about to sacrifice her own people in some vainglorious attempt to appease them.

“At once Inquisitor.” Cullen declared, similarly conscious of just such a scenario.

“The rest of you.” She turned to her present companions. A thin smile spread across her lips.

“Gather up the others and get them up to date. It seems we have the destination of our next road trip.”

“Damn right!” Sera jumped up, pumping her fist. “Savin’ the day, shafting Corphineas right in the arse, and jus’ bein’ Big Freakin’ Heroes. That’s us, yeah?”

Mhyrra’s smile grew.

“That’s us.”

Mhyrra stood at the gates of Skyhold as her men raised the portcullis. Clad in her deep-red, Superbly-crafted Enchanter Armour, with a fresh coat of Felandaris Vitaar shielding her face, the Staff of Tyrdda Bright-Axe – a welcome prize from aiding a group of scholars decipher a map from some landmarks in the Hinterlands – slung to her back and her Spirit Blade strapped to her hip.

She turned to Hawke beside her. The other woman merely nodded back, determined.

She turned to her companions. Her friends.

Some were evidently less enthused than others at the thought of their next adventure. Vivienne had looked positively scandalised when it had been announced to them that it was very likely that Crestwood would be raining at this time of the year. She hoped that Harding and those that left with her ahead of them some hours ago had thought to prepare properly.

And yet, as she looked at each of them in turn, not a single one showed any sign of shirking away or backing down. Warriors, mages, scoundrels, noble-wannabes, Human, Dwarf, Elf, Qunari, Tevinter, Warden…

Whatever they were before, they were the Inquisition. They were her Inquisition.

“Well then!” She drew her staff and pointed out the just-opened gate. “Shall we?”

Bull huffed with a smirk, hefting up on his shoulder that Dragon-Killing Axe that Bonny woman had sold him for a good price, decked in his gleaming crimson Vanguard Armour, Dread menacingly staring out at any who cared to gaze. “Anaan!”

Varric chuckled, adjusting the cuffs of his Hunter coat, Bianca sitting across his back as always, nothing but the finest upgrades gracing Varric’s pride and joy. “We’d better. Story’s not gonna write itself after all. Well, at least nowhere near as well as we would. Though mostly me.”

Dorian’s robes swished as he struck a pose, sleek staff at the ready and palm fizzling with light. “Off to set things right and look dashing while doing it. With me here, we’ve already got half done, so this should be a walk in the park!”

Cole lifted the brim of his hat, his simple, unassuming leathers dull but quite functional, twin serpentine daggers glinting on his back. “People need our help. We have to go. I want to go.”

Vivienne heaved a long-suffering sigh, her choice of attire still outrageously more eye-catching than it appeared practical, though at least she had enough sense to add a protective frontal layer, even as she shimmered a barrier before herself. “Well, if we must.”

Blackwall stood, clad head to toe in solid metal, shield and sword weighing upon him, yet he stayed tall and ready. “For the Wardens.”

Solas merely smiled calmly, dull argent robes wrapped around him as he clutched his staff in his hand, tip to the ground, leaning it forward a tad. “Onward.”

Cassandra was intense and straight-laced as ever, though the spirit brimming in her honey eyes was more daunting than the Burning Eye scrawled across her gleaming black plate and mail, shield at her back and hand on her sword’s pommel. “Into darkness, unafraid.”

“Around the corner, chocolate’s made!” Sera cackled, her bright, sandy Prowler armour slim and simple, but far tougher than it looked, Zinger proudly slung across her back, Silverite shining in the sun. “But, right yeah?” She turned beaming to Mhyrra. “Lead on, oh big, beautiful Inky of ours.”

Mhyrra smiled back, before about-facing and marching forward. And as they all passed underneath the gate, she spoke a final phrase into the wind.

“Once more, into the fray.”