With spring came the rains, and a new operation for the Inquisition.
There was perhaps nowhere better to experience those rains than the lowlands of Ferelden. Specifically the Inquisition's small party approached the village of Crestwood, with Vesryn in the lead. A message had been delivered to him from an old... well, friend wasn't the right word really. Acquaintance, perhaps. Regardless, the letter informed him of a situation worth investigating near Crestwood, as well as an invitation to catch up. Like nothing had happened, Vesryn supposed. The writing sure sounded like him, and it smelled, too. Of trouble.
But he couldn't say no. The fact that the letter came at all meant that the bloody man wasn't going to stop until he could see Vesryn. He was persistent like that. But Vesryn could see the game here. He'd known Vesryn was in Skyhold with the Inquisition, somehow. Word of the shining plate armored elf spreading, or some such. Better to meet him by drawing them out of their walls than showing up at the gate unannounced.
And there was no better way to draw out the Inquisition than with a rift, something only they could deal with. The letter wasn't explicit, but it stated that something rift-related was plaguing the town, which meant the presence of an Inquisitor was needed. Stel had come along, with Cyrus in tow. He'd taken the letter to her first, and it wasn't long before the scouts had been dispatched, to get the lay of the land before the party of irregulars arrived. A full force of Inquisition soldiers wasn't expected to be a necessity.
For once, though, their lovely diplomatic ambassador was accompanying them into the field. Vesryn glanced to his right where Lady Marceline rode, checking to see how she was faring in the rain. It was cold and persistent, still carrying the death throes of winter's chill. Vesryn had once again donned the lion pelt around his shoulders, adding a bit of weight and warmth.
"You've picked a lovely location for your getaway from the office, Lady Marceline."
"It would not have been my first choice, Ser Vesryn. I certainly would have picked a better day for it as well," Lady Marceline answered, though her eyes remained on the path ahead. Despite the nobility that oozed off of her, she appeared to be taking the weather and terrain very well. She wore a thick black cloak over her shoulders, lined with dyed purple fur. Hanging loosely from her neck was a gleaming silverite mask-- akin to the one Khari wore in battle, though Marceline's was of an obvious finer make. The moments when the cloak parted, her custom set of armor revealed itself for a second before retreating back beneath its warm folds.
Lady Marceline had expressed a wish to contact the local merchants and bannorns to work out a deal to establish trade routes to Skyhold, in addition to the usual tasks they were to resolve in the area.
"Could be worse, though," Vesryn mused. "At least the rain isn't coming in sideways."
They rode on, following the path. Vesryn knew the area pretty well, having been over most of Ferelden quite extensively during his years prior to joining the Inquisition. This region was far from his favorite area of it; it had been hit pretty fiercely by the Blight, as he understood it, and those parts of the country were still recovering even a decade later. Still, they were a hardy people, and refused to give up the land they had lived and toiled on for so long over the threat of darkspawn, or now the demons they were assuredly facing, if they were having trouble with rifts.
They spotted Lia waiting for them up ahead, astride her own Fereldan mount. She looked a little soaked through, but in good enough spirits considering. She waved a greeting to them. "Camp's just this way, come on." Kicking in her heels, she urged her horse ahead and led them off the path a little ways, winding around a bend until they arrived at the well-situated scout's camp. As always she had picked an excellent location, out of the way from the road and difficult to spot, but with easy access to natural shelter and a good view of the surrounding land.
That view provided them line of sight to the lake in the distance below, and at that point their problem became immediately obvious. A familiar, unearthly green light emanated from deep within the waters, the only possible source being a rift, and quite a large one unless the water was somehow amplifying its light. Green-tinted fumes of some sort seemed to waft away from the surface, dissipating in the air.
"There was a flood here during the Blight," Lia explained. "So far this is the only rift to appear in the area, but... there are corpses wandering out of the lake with the demons. Honestly, Stel, I'm not sure how you're supposed to close this one. Maybe someone in the village will be able to help."
“Fancy a swim, Stellulam?" Cyrus appeared to be teasing his sister rather than offering any actual solution to the issue, from the mirth in his eyes and the half-smile he wore. The rain didn't seem to bother him much; if anything, he was enjoying it. Not that this stopped him from wearing his hood up over his head, of course.
Estella pulled a face at him, wrinkling her nose. “You first, dear brother," she said dryly. Her eyes lingered on the green light for a moment, brows knitting, but then her expression eased and she returned her attention to Lia. “It can't hurt to see if anyone there knows anything useful. Let's head that way."
"The three Dalish that contacted Vesryn are waiting for you on the road to Crestwood. I'll take you to them."
"Three?" Vesryn asked, frowning. Lia nodded.
"Yep. The two mentioned in the letter, and a third that was with them. Tall, strong woman. I didn't catch her name."
That made sense, if it was who Vesryn thought it was. Keeper wouldn't let the First go on an adventure alone if he could do anything about it. And letting his sister go with him hardly made him any safer, unless she'd drastically improved since the last time they were together. "You spoke with them, then?"
"A little. It was a bit awkward, once they figured out I wasn't really Dalish. But they seem alright to me." Not really Dalish. Vesryn almost snorted. That was rich, and not particularly surprising that he would make an issue of it. Probably best that Khari wasn't with them right now. "Oh. And you'll probably want to leave the horses here. The undead don't seem to agree with them. Don't want them bolting."
Vesryn was willing to bet his own would be able to ignore the moans of the walking corpses, but the point was valid enough, and they continued on foot. The smoke rising over the hills from the village was already visible, meaning that they didn't have far to go. As they neared, they began to pass the odd body in the wet grass or near the trodden dirt of the road. It reminded Vesryn of the Fallow Mire. Soaked, skin still clinging to bones, mutilated forms of human bodies that had dredged themselves up from the depths to bring death where they could. Unpleasant to say the least, but at least Crestwood's storm was not as brutal, nor the ground so muddy.
Vesryn spotted the three that were waiting for him on the roadside some distance ahead, and made sure he was at the front of the party for when they came within speaking distance. It was a sight he met with mixed emotions. All three of them evoked something different. But the sight of him brought a broad smile to the face of the handsome elf standing in the center of the two women. He approached Vesryn quickly, the arms of his robes outstretched wide, and wrapping around him before he even thought to react.
"Anetha ara, Ves! It's almost as though the day itself just got brighter."
Vesryn stood dumbly in the embrace for a moment before he cautiously returned it, patting the man's back lightly. "Zeth... good to see you."
Zeth broke the embrace, but still grasped Vesryn by the shoulders. "How long's it been? Seven years?"
"Just about." This was said by the much smaller of the two elven women. She didn't even reach Khari's height, and where the little bear was built and strong, she was petite, bordering on diminutive. The sight of her brought a genuine smile to Vesryn's face.
"Look how much you've grown, Skygirl. You'll be taller than me soon." She grinned, sticking her tongue out at him for a moment, but soon came forward for a hug of her own, one that Vesryn gladly met as Zeth stepped aside. "I missed you, Astraia." Her height had changed little, but she had grown into a woman. Beautiful where she'd been awkward before, exotic in that way some of the elves were. Her dark hair had grown long, and was decorated with an assortment of beads, metal bands, braids, feathers, and other things that turned it into a lovely mess.
Vesryn exchanged a nod of greeting with the last of the three. He had a feeling she wasn't interested in a hug, regardless of whether he would've given her one or not. He would've. But if the other two were here by choice, their protector was undoubtedly not, and it showed. She was a grumpy sort, but soft enough once one knew where to poke.
The little reunion done, Vesryn turned to his Inquisition companions. "Everyone, these are a few old friends of mine. Zethlasan and Astraia Carrith, and this one is Shaethra Movrin."
"Zeth will do fine," the mage leading them said, offering a short bow. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance." He and Astraia were making no attempts to conceal their status as mages, which Vesryn found unsurprising. But apostates for once were not the south's greatest concern, and he doubted they'd run into any trouble.
"The pleasure is ours," Lady Marceline answered, dipping into a polite bow of her own. When she rose she continued, with an introduction of her own. "And I am Comtesse Marceline Benoît, the Inquisition's chief ambassador," she said with some amount of pomp. Regardless, she began to introduce the others as well, outstretching a hand to present them. "This is Lady Inquisitor Estella Avenarius, her brother, Lord Cyrus, and as I am sure you have already met, Ser Lia, our lead scout. We are but a small portion of the Inquisition."
“Please, Cyrus is quite adequate." The man himself did not often seem to insist on his title, actually, and it didn't seem he would do so here, either. “Andaran atish'an." The words were smooth off his tongue, bereft of any lingering accent. He didn't bow, exactly, but he did incline his head in a measured sort of way.
“And I'm just Estella." She did bow a little, wearing a warm smile despite the atrocious weather. “It's nice to meet you."
"A shame it couldn't be under less undead-riddled circumstances," Zeth said, smiling at each of them in turn as they greeted him. "Thank you for coming so quickly, Inquisition."
"And why might you be here, exactly?" Vesryn asked, keeping his tone friendly as best he could, trying to stay away from sounding suspicious. He supposed even if Zeth caught on to that, he wouldn't let it show. "Does Clan Thremael not still wander the Tirashan?"
"They do," he answered. "We are a long way from home, but we will return by the year's end. It took me forever to convince the Keeper to grant me this time away, and I intend to use it. For Astraia's sake as well. We've seen a great many things in the past months. It has been most educational." A vague answer, but Vesryn expected no less. It was a long time until the year's end. Plenty of time for Zethlasan to romp around Ferelden as he saw fit. So long as he was smart enough to stay out of trouble. Which, if he was seeking out the Inquisition on purpose, he wasn't.
Lia had drawn her bow, aiming an arrow away from the party and towards the lake. She loosed the arrow, watching it fly and strike a shambling corpse through the head some distance away. There didn't appear to be any more of them on the way, but the scout looked back to the rest of the party. "We should probably get moving, no?"
They were on their way in short order, now a party of eight, and unlike normally, Vesryn preferred to remain near the back of the group, to better keep a watch over everyone in front. It wasn't that he distrusted them all. Zeth, certainly, but Shaethra had always been perpetually dutiful, and not prone to deception of her own doing. And Astraia, well... he had not seen a thought of ill-intent from her in all of the time he'd known her. But perhaps that wasn't so long, in the greater scheme of things. And many years had passed.
The young elven mage gravitated towards Estella, attempting to subtly observe her for a few moments and utterly failing, before she finally worked up the courage to speak. "You're the Lady Inquisitor? I've heard about you." She allowed her excitement to show through a bit. "Good things, I promise. Can I... can I see it? The mark, I mean."
Estella looked predictably surprised by the question, but the expression left her easily enough. “Of course," she replied easily, working at the buckles on her light gauntlet until they came loose and sliding it off. It disappeared under her cloak somewhere, and she turned her bare right hand palm-up, extending it towards Astraia. “Um... I'd recommend not trying any magic or anything on it. I wouldn't mind, but it does tend to react a bit unpredictably when disturbed." Nevertheless, she seemed untroubled to let the younger woman make an examination of whatever level of scrutiny she wished, stepping slightly sideways so they were walking at a more comfortable distance for it.
"Of course. I—I wouldn't dream of using magic on it, or you. I'm... well." She left the thought unfinished, absorbed instead in her examination of Estella's palm. Hesitant with magic though she was, she had no qualms about reaching out to grab the Inquisitor's hand, albeit gently. She didn't touch the mark directly, instead sort of cupping under the knuckles with one hand, using her other thumb to turn Estella's hand just a bit towards her, where she leaned in slightly to look into the light. It reflected off her dark brown eyes, which went slightly wide as they lit up. "It's very pretty, I think. Not in the usual sense, but—"
"Astraia," came Zeth's voice from in front of them. He'd turned to walk backwards for a moment. "There's no need to bother the Inquisitor." Immediately Astraia let go of Estella's hand, looking between her and her brother, though the apology she offered was wordless, only written on her face.
Estella tried to head that off immediately. “You're not bothering me at all," she said, quite sincerely. “I assure you, whatever measure of examination or prodding you want to do, my dear brother has done quite a number of times over." Her eyes moved briefly to Cyrus, then back to Astraia. “He probably knows more about it than I do, honestly, if you have questions."
Cyrus himself snorted. “I don't prod, Stellulam, I study. You can hardly blame me for curiosity about an ancient magical phenomenon." He tilted his head at Astraia afterwards, though. “And I would hardly blame anyone else. If you do have questions, it's no trouble to talk about. Something ought to pass a slog through the rain, no?"
Zeth had turned back around by this point, and a small hint of a smile formed on Astraia's face. She reached to grab Estella's hand again, this time carefully tracing over the mark itself with her pointer finger. "It's true you can close the rifts with this? Mend tears in the Veil?"
Vesryn smiled to himself. He didn't expect she would be any trouble to them. Well, maybe a little if she started slinging spells around. She'd seemed nervous about it when Estella suggested against using magic on the mark, which Vesryn took as a sign of not much improvement in that regard. It wasn't surprising. He knew how the clan had felt about Astraia's grasp on magic before he'd left, and that sort of negative opinion had a way of affecting a person like her, and her motivation to improve. It was perhaps the one thing he regretted most about leaving them behind when he did.
Walking around the side of the group and up to the front, he positioned himself at Shaethra's side, matching her long, easy stride. She scowled out from under her hood, eyes always watching their sides, what lay ahead, occasionally checking behind them on Astraia. Ever watchful. Her hand never strayed far from the flanged mace that swung at her hip. She was trying to be inconspicuous about it, but it wasn't her strength, and likely a few of his own party had already noticed. Vesryn leaned in a bit closer to her as they walked.
"Enjoying the trip, Shae?" She spared him a sidelong glance, tinged with a bit of tired annoyance.
"The Keeper directs that I protect the First. That's all there is to it."
"She's quite good at her job, too," Zeth assured him. "I was never going to escape the clan without making that concession to the Keeper. But she doesn't complain at least. I think you're enjoying yourself, Shae. You're just very good at hiding it."
"You may think that, if you wish."
Zeth smiled to himself, shaking his head. He turned to look the other way, finding Marceline. "Does the Inquisition's chief ambassador often follow the Inquisitors to close rifts? This isn't likely to be a diplomatic mission." He glanced down at the bit of her armor he could see, and the hilt of her sword. "Though I imagine the poker isn't for show, is it?"
"I have been trained in its use, yes. You need not worry about me," Lady Marceline answered with a manufactured smile. She looked ahead and deigned a better answer to his first question. "Perhaps not now, but once the rift is closed and we are able to reestablish control in the area, there will be merchants and the bannorn to curry favor with. The Inquisition is always in need of goods, and if my presence will aid in the endeavor, then I am willing to wade through the muck and undead for the cause."
A twist to the corner of her lips and she tilted her head toward the elf. "However, when the negotiations are concluded, the price will reflect our effort."
Zeth returned the smirk. "How very shrewd. You're quite the intriguing woman, Lady Marceline. Perhaps I might be able to acquire a finder's fee for some of the benefits earned here? These Fereldans weren't the ones who contacted you, after all. Don't think they trust the Inquisition anymore than they trust the People." By his tone, he was only half-serious, but Vesryn didn't doubt he'd take some coin if the Inquisition was willing to grant it. He supposed he had a point. Without the Dalish, these people wouldn't have received any help at all, perhaps not until it was too late.
He glanced back to check on Astraia, almost simultaneously as Shae did the same. Her attention was still quite fully occupied with the Lady Inquisitor and her brother. "And the tear in the sky, the Breach? You were able to close something so large in the same way?"
He couldn't help but smile a little. Perhaps this wasn't going to be as bad as he'd thought.
There was perhaps nowhere better to experience those rains than the lowlands of Ferelden. Specifically the Inquisition's small party approached the village of Crestwood, with Vesryn in the lead. A message had been delivered to him from an old... well, friend wasn't the right word really. Acquaintance, perhaps. Regardless, the letter informed him of a situation worth investigating near Crestwood, as well as an invitation to catch up. Like nothing had happened, Vesryn supposed. The writing sure sounded like him, and it smelled, too. Of trouble.
But he couldn't say no. The fact that the letter came at all meant that the bloody man wasn't going to stop until he could see Vesryn. He was persistent like that. But Vesryn could see the game here. He'd known Vesryn was in Skyhold with the Inquisition, somehow. Word of the shining plate armored elf spreading, or some such. Better to meet him by drawing them out of their walls than showing up at the gate unannounced.
And there was no better way to draw out the Inquisition than with a rift, something only they could deal with. The letter wasn't explicit, but it stated that something rift-related was plaguing the town, which meant the presence of an Inquisitor was needed. Stel had come along, with Cyrus in tow. He'd taken the letter to her first, and it wasn't long before the scouts had been dispatched, to get the lay of the land before the party of irregulars arrived. A full force of Inquisition soldiers wasn't expected to be a necessity.
For once, though, their lovely diplomatic ambassador was accompanying them into the field. Vesryn glanced to his right where Lady Marceline rode, checking to see how she was faring in the rain. It was cold and persistent, still carrying the death throes of winter's chill. Vesryn had once again donned the lion pelt around his shoulders, adding a bit of weight and warmth.
"You've picked a lovely location for your getaway from the office, Lady Marceline."
"It would not have been my first choice, Ser Vesryn. I certainly would have picked a better day for it as well," Lady Marceline answered, though her eyes remained on the path ahead. Despite the nobility that oozed off of her, she appeared to be taking the weather and terrain very well. She wore a thick black cloak over her shoulders, lined with dyed purple fur. Hanging loosely from her neck was a gleaming silverite mask-- akin to the one Khari wore in battle, though Marceline's was of an obvious finer make. The moments when the cloak parted, her custom set of armor revealed itself for a second before retreating back beneath its warm folds.
Lady Marceline had expressed a wish to contact the local merchants and bannorns to work out a deal to establish trade routes to Skyhold, in addition to the usual tasks they were to resolve in the area.
"Could be worse, though," Vesryn mused. "At least the rain isn't coming in sideways."
They rode on, following the path. Vesryn knew the area pretty well, having been over most of Ferelden quite extensively during his years prior to joining the Inquisition. This region was far from his favorite area of it; it had been hit pretty fiercely by the Blight, as he understood it, and those parts of the country were still recovering even a decade later. Still, they were a hardy people, and refused to give up the land they had lived and toiled on for so long over the threat of darkspawn, or now the demons they were assuredly facing, if they were having trouble with rifts.
They spotted Lia waiting for them up ahead, astride her own Fereldan mount. She looked a little soaked through, but in good enough spirits considering. She waved a greeting to them. "Camp's just this way, come on." Kicking in her heels, she urged her horse ahead and led them off the path a little ways, winding around a bend until they arrived at the well-situated scout's camp. As always she had picked an excellent location, out of the way from the road and difficult to spot, but with easy access to natural shelter and a good view of the surrounding land.
That view provided them line of sight to the lake in the distance below, and at that point their problem became immediately obvious. A familiar, unearthly green light emanated from deep within the waters, the only possible source being a rift, and quite a large one unless the water was somehow amplifying its light. Green-tinted fumes of some sort seemed to waft away from the surface, dissipating in the air.
"There was a flood here during the Blight," Lia explained. "So far this is the only rift to appear in the area, but... there are corpses wandering out of the lake with the demons. Honestly, Stel, I'm not sure how you're supposed to close this one. Maybe someone in the village will be able to help."
“Fancy a swim, Stellulam?" Cyrus appeared to be teasing his sister rather than offering any actual solution to the issue, from the mirth in his eyes and the half-smile he wore. The rain didn't seem to bother him much; if anything, he was enjoying it. Not that this stopped him from wearing his hood up over his head, of course.
Estella pulled a face at him, wrinkling her nose. “You first, dear brother," she said dryly. Her eyes lingered on the green light for a moment, brows knitting, but then her expression eased and she returned her attention to Lia. “It can't hurt to see if anyone there knows anything useful. Let's head that way."
"The three Dalish that contacted Vesryn are waiting for you on the road to Crestwood. I'll take you to them."
"Three?" Vesryn asked, frowning. Lia nodded.
"Yep. The two mentioned in the letter, and a third that was with them. Tall, strong woman. I didn't catch her name."
That made sense, if it was who Vesryn thought it was. Keeper wouldn't let the First go on an adventure alone if he could do anything about it. And letting his sister go with him hardly made him any safer, unless she'd drastically improved since the last time they were together. "You spoke with them, then?"
"A little. It was a bit awkward, once they figured out I wasn't really Dalish. But they seem alright to me." Not really Dalish. Vesryn almost snorted. That was rich, and not particularly surprising that he would make an issue of it. Probably best that Khari wasn't with them right now. "Oh. And you'll probably want to leave the horses here. The undead don't seem to agree with them. Don't want them bolting."
Vesryn was willing to bet his own would be able to ignore the moans of the walking corpses, but the point was valid enough, and they continued on foot. The smoke rising over the hills from the village was already visible, meaning that they didn't have far to go. As they neared, they began to pass the odd body in the wet grass or near the trodden dirt of the road. It reminded Vesryn of the Fallow Mire. Soaked, skin still clinging to bones, mutilated forms of human bodies that had dredged themselves up from the depths to bring death where they could. Unpleasant to say the least, but at least Crestwood's storm was not as brutal, nor the ground so muddy.
Vesryn spotted the three that were waiting for him on the roadside some distance ahead, and made sure he was at the front of the party for when they came within speaking distance. It was a sight he met with mixed emotions. All three of them evoked something different. But the sight of him brought a broad smile to the face of the handsome elf standing in the center of the two women. He approached Vesryn quickly, the arms of his robes outstretched wide, and wrapping around him before he even thought to react.
"Anetha ara, Ves! It's almost as though the day itself just got brighter."
Vesryn stood dumbly in the embrace for a moment before he cautiously returned it, patting the man's back lightly. "Zeth... good to see you."
Zeth broke the embrace, but still grasped Vesryn by the shoulders. "How long's it been? Seven years?"
"Just about." This was said by the much smaller of the two elven women. She didn't even reach Khari's height, and where the little bear was built and strong, she was petite, bordering on diminutive. The sight of her brought a genuine smile to Vesryn's face.
"Look how much you've grown, Skygirl. You'll be taller than me soon." She grinned, sticking her tongue out at him for a moment, but soon came forward for a hug of her own, one that Vesryn gladly met as Zeth stepped aside. "I missed you, Astraia." Her height had changed little, but she had grown into a woman. Beautiful where she'd been awkward before, exotic in that way some of the elves were. Her dark hair had grown long, and was decorated with an assortment of beads, metal bands, braids, feathers, and other things that turned it into a lovely mess.
Vesryn exchanged a nod of greeting with the last of the three. He had a feeling she wasn't interested in a hug, regardless of whether he would've given her one or not. He would've. But if the other two were here by choice, their protector was undoubtedly not, and it showed. She was a grumpy sort, but soft enough once one knew where to poke.
The little reunion done, Vesryn turned to his Inquisition companions. "Everyone, these are a few old friends of mine. Zethlasan and Astraia Carrith, and this one is Shaethra Movrin."
"Zeth will do fine," the mage leading them said, offering a short bow. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance." He and Astraia were making no attempts to conceal their status as mages, which Vesryn found unsurprising. But apostates for once were not the south's greatest concern, and he doubted they'd run into any trouble.
"The pleasure is ours," Lady Marceline answered, dipping into a polite bow of her own. When she rose she continued, with an introduction of her own. "And I am Comtesse Marceline Benoît, the Inquisition's chief ambassador," she said with some amount of pomp. Regardless, she began to introduce the others as well, outstretching a hand to present them. "This is Lady Inquisitor Estella Avenarius, her brother, Lord Cyrus, and as I am sure you have already met, Ser Lia, our lead scout. We are but a small portion of the Inquisition."
“Please, Cyrus is quite adequate." The man himself did not often seem to insist on his title, actually, and it didn't seem he would do so here, either. “Andaran atish'an." The words were smooth off his tongue, bereft of any lingering accent. He didn't bow, exactly, but he did incline his head in a measured sort of way.
“And I'm just Estella." She did bow a little, wearing a warm smile despite the atrocious weather. “It's nice to meet you."
"A shame it couldn't be under less undead-riddled circumstances," Zeth said, smiling at each of them in turn as they greeted him. "Thank you for coming so quickly, Inquisition."
"And why might you be here, exactly?" Vesryn asked, keeping his tone friendly as best he could, trying to stay away from sounding suspicious. He supposed even if Zeth caught on to that, he wouldn't let it show. "Does Clan Thremael not still wander the Tirashan?"
"They do," he answered. "We are a long way from home, but we will return by the year's end. It took me forever to convince the Keeper to grant me this time away, and I intend to use it. For Astraia's sake as well. We've seen a great many things in the past months. It has been most educational." A vague answer, but Vesryn expected no less. It was a long time until the year's end. Plenty of time for Zethlasan to romp around Ferelden as he saw fit. So long as he was smart enough to stay out of trouble. Which, if he was seeking out the Inquisition on purpose, he wasn't.
Lia had drawn her bow, aiming an arrow away from the party and towards the lake. She loosed the arrow, watching it fly and strike a shambling corpse through the head some distance away. There didn't appear to be any more of them on the way, but the scout looked back to the rest of the party. "We should probably get moving, no?"
They were on their way in short order, now a party of eight, and unlike normally, Vesryn preferred to remain near the back of the group, to better keep a watch over everyone in front. It wasn't that he distrusted them all. Zeth, certainly, but Shaethra had always been perpetually dutiful, and not prone to deception of her own doing. And Astraia, well... he had not seen a thought of ill-intent from her in all of the time he'd known her. But perhaps that wasn't so long, in the greater scheme of things. And many years had passed.
The young elven mage gravitated towards Estella, attempting to subtly observe her for a few moments and utterly failing, before she finally worked up the courage to speak. "You're the Lady Inquisitor? I've heard about you." She allowed her excitement to show through a bit. "Good things, I promise. Can I... can I see it? The mark, I mean."
Estella looked predictably surprised by the question, but the expression left her easily enough. “Of course," she replied easily, working at the buckles on her light gauntlet until they came loose and sliding it off. It disappeared under her cloak somewhere, and she turned her bare right hand palm-up, extending it towards Astraia. “Um... I'd recommend not trying any magic or anything on it. I wouldn't mind, but it does tend to react a bit unpredictably when disturbed." Nevertheless, she seemed untroubled to let the younger woman make an examination of whatever level of scrutiny she wished, stepping slightly sideways so they were walking at a more comfortable distance for it.
"Of course. I—I wouldn't dream of using magic on it, or you. I'm... well." She left the thought unfinished, absorbed instead in her examination of Estella's palm. Hesitant with magic though she was, she had no qualms about reaching out to grab the Inquisitor's hand, albeit gently. She didn't touch the mark directly, instead sort of cupping under the knuckles with one hand, using her other thumb to turn Estella's hand just a bit towards her, where she leaned in slightly to look into the light. It reflected off her dark brown eyes, which went slightly wide as they lit up. "It's very pretty, I think. Not in the usual sense, but—"
"Astraia," came Zeth's voice from in front of them. He'd turned to walk backwards for a moment. "There's no need to bother the Inquisitor." Immediately Astraia let go of Estella's hand, looking between her and her brother, though the apology she offered was wordless, only written on her face.
Estella tried to head that off immediately. “You're not bothering me at all," she said, quite sincerely. “I assure you, whatever measure of examination or prodding you want to do, my dear brother has done quite a number of times over." Her eyes moved briefly to Cyrus, then back to Astraia. “He probably knows more about it than I do, honestly, if you have questions."
Cyrus himself snorted. “I don't prod, Stellulam, I study. You can hardly blame me for curiosity about an ancient magical phenomenon." He tilted his head at Astraia afterwards, though. “And I would hardly blame anyone else. If you do have questions, it's no trouble to talk about. Something ought to pass a slog through the rain, no?"
Zeth had turned back around by this point, and a small hint of a smile formed on Astraia's face. She reached to grab Estella's hand again, this time carefully tracing over the mark itself with her pointer finger. "It's true you can close the rifts with this? Mend tears in the Veil?"
Vesryn smiled to himself. He didn't expect she would be any trouble to them. Well, maybe a little if she started slinging spells around. She'd seemed nervous about it when Estella suggested against using magic on the mark, which Vesryn took as a sign of not much improvement in that regard. It wasn't surprising. He knew how the clan had felt about Astraia's grasp on magic before he'd left, and that sort of negative opinion had a way of affecting a person like her, and her motivation to improve. It was perhaps the one thing he regretted most about leaving them behind when he did.
Walking around the side of the group and up to the front, he positioned himself at Shaethra's side, matching her long, easy stride. She scowled out from under her hood, eyes always watching their sides, what lay ahead, occasionally checking behind them on Astraia. Ever watchful. Her hand never strayed far from the flanged mace that swung at her hip. She was trying to be inconspicuous about it, but it wasn't her strength, and likely a few of his own party had already noticed. Vesryn leaned in a bit closer to her as they walked.
"Enjoying the trip, Shae?" She spared him a sidelong glance, tinged with a bit of tired annoyance.
"The Keeper directs that I protect the First. That's all there is to it."
"She's quite good at her job, too," Zeth assured him. "I was never going to escape the clan without making that concession to the Keeper. But she doesn't complain at least. I think you're enjoying yourself, Shae. You're just very good at hiding it."
"You may think that, if you wish."
Zeth smiled to himself, shaking his head. He turned to look the other way, finding Marceline. "Does the Inquisition's chief ambassador often follow the Inquisitors to close rifts? This isn't likely to be a diplomatic mission." He glanced down at the bit of her armor he could see, and the hilt of her sword. "Though I imagine the poker isn't for show, is it?"
"I have been trained in its use, yes. You need not worry about me," Lady Marceline answered with a manufactured smile. She looked ahead and deigned a better answer to his first question. "Perhaps not now, but once the rift is closed and we are able to reestablish control in the area, there will be merchants and the bannorn to curry favor with. The Inquisition is always in need of goods, and if my presence will aid in the endeavor, then I am willing to wade through the muck and undead for the cause."
A twist to the corner of her lips and she tilted her head toward the elf. "However, when the negotiations are concluded, the price will reflect our effort."
Zeth returned the smirk. "How very shrewd. You're quite the intriguing woman, Lady Marceline. Perhaps I might be able to acquire a finder's fee for some of the benefits earned here? These Fereldans weren't the ones who contacted you, after all. Don't think they trust the Inquisition anymore than they trust the People." By his tone, he was only half-serious, but Vesryn didn't doubt he'd take some coin if the Inquisition was willing to grant it. He supposed he had a point. Without the Dalish, these people wouldn't have received any help at all, perhaps not until it was too late.
He glanced back to check on Astraia, almost simultaneously as Shae did the same. Her attention was still quite fully occupied with the Lady Inquisitor and her brother. "And the tear in the sky, the Breach? You were able to close something so large in the same way?"
He couldn't help but smile a little. Perhaps this wasn't going to be as bad as he'd thought.