Marceline, Leon, and Rilien stood in a hall in the lower levels of Skyhold. In front of them a door, flanked by two guards. It wasn't the dungeon, as the man who waited inside wasn't under arrest yet, but he was an unknown entity, and Marceline wished that he would be come a little more known before they decided to lock him up, or let him have free reign of the castle. From the information she had, he had saved Cyrus, Estella, and the others on the other side of something that they called an Eluvian. A device that a mole planted into their ranks had used to escape after poisoning Cyrus and stealing his notes on the breach.
It was surprising how much could break in a span of only a few days. Not only did the attack put questions in her mind about the Inquisition's security, but also cast suspicion on all other personnel in the Inquisition. There was many long days ahead of her yet, but for now, they had to deal with the elf waiting behind the door in front of them. "His name is Harellan," and really, that was the only thing they knew about him. Other than Cyrus also knew him, but he was still in no shape to be questioned. The man had saved them yes, but that did not eliminate him as a possible threat. Not with that track record.
"How do you feel we should proceed?" Marceline asked the other two advisors.
“We should not be hostile," Leon said, crossing his arms over his chest. He hadn't dressed to intimidate, either, judging by the simple tunic and trousers he wore. But then perhaps his physique alone served well enough for that. “Suspicious or not, he did save one of our Inquisitors, and several other people. I think we ought to simply ask him what we want to know, and see what he says. No doubt we should stay sharp and take everything with a grain of salt, but it would hardly be fair to assume the worst because we've already dealt with it."
“My agents have thus far been able to find no information on him at all." Rilien did not sound disturbed by this, but perhaps that was only because it was impossible for tranquil to in fact be disturbed by anything. “We will continue to look, but for the moment we are at the informational disadvantage, and he is likely to know that. We should not present ourselves as if it is otherwise. But if we are sufficiently solicitous, he may be unguarded in his replies. I will watch for signs of deception."
He paused a moment for the information to digest, then opened the door without knocking, entering first with Marceline and Leon just behind.
It was a room appointed for such tasks as interrogation, and as such it was bare of any furniture save a wooden table with a chair on either side of it. Rilien stood with his back to the wall, leaving the unoccupied chair open. The other sat a most-curious-looking elf.
He wasn't Dalish; that much was clear from the absence of tattoos on his face. But he certainly didn't look like a city elf, either. It was hard to tell for sure since he was seated, but he was probably in the vicinity of six feet in height, built somewhere between Rilien and Vesryn. His eyes tracked their entrance quite keenly—a soft spring green, like the underside of mature leaves. His hair was worn in a long tail, but the sides and back had been shorn away, making the points of his ears all the more prominent. He had, apparently, voluntarily relinquished his armor and supplies, and wore a well-crafted linen tunic, plain green save for the swirling teardrop embroidered in gold thread on the upper part of his sleeve.
Most striking, perhaps, was how completely at ease he seemed; he smiled slightly at their entrance and stood, confirming the estimate of his height. He gave a little bow before standing at attention, clearly waiting for Marceline to take her seat before he resumed his.
"Andaran atish'an, Inquisition. Or perhaps I should say good day. I thought you might be by to see me soon."
Marceline inclined her head in response to the greeting, though she did not put it into words. He was unfailingly polite, which was refreshing, considering the type they usually had to have the Inquisitors judge. Not that this man was intended to face their judgment regardless, but it was nice to have someone who spoke cordially for once. Still, she didn't let her guard down in the face of his honeyed words.
"Of course, and as you can imagine, we have some questions for you," Marceline began, though she paused for a moment. "But first, please allow me to apologize for your accommodations, but considering recent events, I hope that you understand the necessity for all of this," she stated politely.
"If you do not mind?" she started, figuring it would be best for both parties if they were to begin the questioning as soon as possible, "I would like to ask, quite plainly if I may, who you are, Serah?"
The elf resumed his seat, folding his hands together on the tabletop in the universal negotiation signal of good faith. He tilted his head to the side a little, blinking as though perplexed. "Forgive me, my lady, for that is a very broad question, and I am not entirely certain of how to answer it to your satisfaction. My name is Harellan, and as you can see, I am an elf, which I confess makes it rather difficult to be anyone of particular importance in the world." His done did not vary from its thoughtful cordiality when he said so; there was no bitterness to be found in it despite the fact that the words themselves conveyed a rather bitter truth.
"I am also a mage, if that fact is of any particular significance. I have found that some do tend to care."
“And your connection to Cyrus Avenarius?" Leon spoke from his spot against the wall, flanking Marceline on the opposite side from Rilien. They likely made a rather daunting trio, not that Harellan was giving any indication of it. “The reports are clear that you acted as though you knew him, and he you as well."
"Ah, of course." Harellan nodded easily, though a hint of melancholy seemed to seep into his smile for just a moment. "We have indeed met; it was I who first taught him the dirth'ena enasalin. What you would call... the way of the Knight-Enchanter?" He didn't seem entirely sure of the translation, but continued anyway. "We parted ways about two years ago now. I was surprised to see him again so soon."
"Which brings us to the next question," Marceline stated, "If you do not mind me asking, how was it that you ran into him and the others when you did?" she asked, keeping any accusations out of her tone. It seemed like a rather large coincidence that he was there when they needed him the most, but Marceline didn't put much faith in coincidence "We, of course, appreciate the aid rendered, but regardless, I am curious," she said with a shrug.
"It's... difficult to explain." Harellan issued a soft breath from his nose, almost a sigh. "The eluvians are all connected, you see, through a central place called the Between, or sometimes the Crossroads. It is not quite the Fade, but it has some similar properties. It is possible to key certain mirrors to the blood or password of a particular person, but it is also possible to sense changes in the Between itself, if you know what to look for." He lifted his shoulders. "Changes such as an inactive eluvian becoming active. As you might imagine, there are very few people who have access to even one, fewer still who know how to operate them. I was quite curious who had recently opened one, and followed the trail I found."
“Fortuitous." Rilien's monotone didn't convey anything in particular, but that in itself lent it a certain impression of skepticism.
"On the contrary: it is most infelicitous news that those cultists—Venatori, if I recall—know how to use them. The knowledge must be less rare than I thought. My own presence was a matter of habit rather than luck; I do not like not knowing what occurs there. As this has aptly demonstrated... the risk is considerable."
"We are in agreement," Marceline said. She was not particularly fond of the thought that they had what amounted to a back door into the heart of the Inquisition just laying around. They had soldiers posted by the mirror, but it was still uncomfortable knowledge that if they could somehow bypass the safeguards then they could theoretically be attacked. However, that was not her area of expertise, so she would allow Leon and Rilien to handle it.
She then shook her head and spoke again, "I am sorry, I am afraid I do not fully understand these eluvians, only what has been reported." Which was that it was used in an attempted assassination and subterfuge and led to what she suspected was a Venatori encampment. "If you would be so kind as to shed light on what they are, I would be thankful."
Harellan sat back in his seat a bit, leaving his hands still in the open and visible. "In simplest terms, they are transport, of sorts. Portals, if you like. For each eluvian that exists here, a match exists in the Between. As I said, they're quite safe when protected by passwords or other sorts of gatekeeping, but if left open they are as vulnerable as any unlocked door." He arched a dark brow. "Once, they connected all of Elvhenan, the ancient kingdom of the elves. But the world was much different then, and many have since been destroyed or otherwise lost. Far fewer remain."
“So why come through this one, then, if you had so many to choose from? Is it simply a matter of seeing your student safe, or did you have some cause for seeking out the Inquisition specifically?" It was clear that this was the crux of the matter, as far as Leon was concerned; Marceline could tell that he'd been waiting to ask the question for some time now.
Something changed in Harellan's expression. It was difficult to pick out exactly what, but it made him look older somehow. His age was hard to pin down already, and the shift only complicated matters. "I confess my motives are mostly selfish; I would like to remain where my student is, though I don't think he would find the suggestion particularly welcome. I fear my use to you would be quite limited; I am not so talented as he is, nor so inclined to the field of battle. But... I might be useful in other ways. I have some experience teaching, as you may have guessed. I believe in this respect I could be of particular help to the Lady Inquisitor."
“How so?" There was something not-quite-neutral about Rilien's question, but pinning it down was impossible.
"Her magic. Cyrus has described it to me. I believe I may be able to cultivate her talents in a way most other mages could not. Otherwise... I have some experience with the keeping of animals, if I might humbly earn my keep here in that way."
Marceline didn't answer immediately, but instead turned toward Rilien expectantly. While Estella was the Inquisitor, she was Rilien's pupil as well and she wished for his opinion on the matter.
“I have never been able to get her to commit to magic as a course of study. She has not wanted to, and I have therefore not insisted. If she should change her mind, I would be unsuitable as an instructor regardless." He gave no further assessment than that.
Marceline nodded and turned back to Harellan. "We still must discuss matters, among each other and with the Lady Inquisitor. It should be her decision, not ours. Ser Leonhardt?" she asked.
“That much seems fair," Leon agreed. “But it would likewise be fair to allow Harellan to make the case to her himself. In any event, I see no reason to keep you here. For now, we will appoint you a room in the barracks, if you would find the arrangement acceptable."
"That would be more than adequate. My thanks."
Marceline nodded and rose as she spoke, "And thank you Ser Harellan, for your patience."
It was surprising how much could break in a span of only a few days. Not only did the attack put questions in her mind about the Inquisition's security, but also cast suspicion on all other personnel in the Inquisition. There was many long days ahead of her yet, but for now, they had to deal with the elf waiting behind the door in front of them. "His name is Harellan," and really, that was the only thing they knew about him. Other than Cyrus also knew him, but he was still in no shape to be questioned. The man had saved them yes, but that did not eliminate him as a possible threat. Not with that track record.
"How do you feel we should proceed?" Marceline asked the other two advisors.
“We should not be hostile," Leon said, crossing his arms over his chest. He hadn't dressed to intimidate, either, judging by the simple tunic and trousers he wore. But then perhaps his physique alone served well enough for that. “Suspicious or not, he did save one of our Inquisitors, and several other people. I think we ought to simply ask him what we want to know, and see what he says. No doubt we should stay sharp and take everything with a grain of salt, but it would hardly be fair to assume the worst because we've already dealt with it."
“My agents have thus far been able to find no information on him at all." Rilien did not sound disturbed by this, but perhaps that was only because it was impossible for tranquil to in fact be disturbed by anything. “We will continue to look, but for the moment we are at the informational disadvantage, and he is likely to know that. We should not present ourselves as if it is otherwise. But if we are sufficiently solicitous, he may be unguarded in his replies. I will watch for signs of deception."
He paused a moment for the information to digest, then opened the door without knocking, entering first with Marceline and Leon just behind.
It was a room appointed for such tasks as interrogation, and as such it was bare of any furniture save a wooden table with a chair on either side of it. Rilien stood with his back to the wall, leaving the unoccupied chair open. The other sat a most-curious-looking elf.
He wasn't Dalish; that much was clear from the absence of tattoos on his face. But he certainly didn't look like a city elf, either. It was hard to tell for sure since he was seated, but he was probably in the vicinity of six feet in height, built somewhere between Rilien and Vesryn. His eyes tracked their entrance quite keenly—a soft spring green, like the underside of mature leaves. His hair was worn in a long tail, but the sides and back had been shorn away, making the points of his ears all the more prominent. He had, apparently, voluntarily relinquished his armor and supplies, and wore a well-crafted linen tunic, plain green save for the swirling teardrop embroidered in gold thread on the upper part of his sleeve.
Most striking, perhaps, was how completely at ease he seemed; he smiled slightly at their entrance and stood, confirming the estimate of his height. He gave a little bow before standing at attention, clearly waiting for Marceline to take her seat before he resumed his.
"Andaran atish'an, Inquisition. Or perhaps I should say good day. I thought you might be by to see me soon."
Marceline inclined her head in response to the greeting, though she did not put it into words. He was unfailingly polite, which was refreshing, considering the type they usually had to have the Inquisitors judge. Not that this man was intended to face their judgment regardless, but it was nice to have someone who spoke cordially for once. Still, she didn't let her guard down in the face of his honeyed words.
"Of course, and as you can imagine, we have some questions for you," Marceline began, though she paused for a moment. "But first, please allow me to apologize for your accommodations, but considering recent events, I hope that you understand the necessity for all of this," she stated politely.
"If you do not mind?" she started, figuring it would be best for both parties if they were to begin the questioning as soon as possible, "I would like to ask, quite plainly if I may, who you are, Serah?"
The elf resumed his seat, folding his hands together on the tabletop in the universal negotiation signal of good faith. He tilted his head to the side a little, blinking as though perplexed. "Forgive me, my lady, for that is a very broad question, and I am not entirely certain of how to answer it to your satisfaction. My name is Harellan, and as you can see, I am an elf, which I confess makes it rather difficult to be anyone of particular importance in the world." His done did not vary from its thoughtful cordiality when he said so; there was no bitterness to be found in it despite the fact that the words themselves conveyed a rather bitter truth.
"I am also a mage, if that fact is of any particular significance. I have found that some do tend to care."
“And your connection to Cyrus Avenarius?" Leon spoke from his spot against the wall, flanking Marceline on the opposite side from Rilien. They likely made a rather daunting trio, not that Harellan was giving any indication of it. “The reports are clear that you acted as though you knew him, and he you as well."
"Ah, of course." Harellan nodded easily, though a hint of melancholy seemed to seep into his smile for just a moment. "We have indeed met; it was I who first taught him the dirth'ena enasalin. What you would call... the way of the Knight-Enchanter?" He didn't seem entirely sure of the translation, but continued anyway. "We parted ways about two years ago now. I was surprised to see him again so soon."
"Which brings us to the next question," Marceline stated, "If you do not mind me asking, how was it that you ran into him and the others when you did?" she asked, keeping any accusations out of her tone. It seemed like a rather large coincidence that he was there when they needed him the most, but Marceline didn't put much faith in coincidence "We, of course, appreciate the aid rendered, but regardless, I am curious," she said with a shrug.
"It's... difficult to explain." Harellan issued a soft breath from his nose, almost a sigh. "The eluvians are all connected, you see, through a central place called the Between, or sometimes the Crossroads. It is not quite the Fade, but it has some similar properties. It is possible to key certain mirrors to the blood or password of a particular person, but it is also possible to sense changes in the Between itself, if you know what to look for." He lifted his shoulders. "Changes such as an inactive eluvian becoming active. As you might imagine, there are very few people who have access to even one, fewer still who know how to operate them. I was quite curious who had recently opened one, and followed the trail I found."
“Fortuitous." Rilien's monotone didn't convey anything in particular, but that in itself lent it a certain impression of skepticism.
"On the contrary: it is most infelicitous news that those cultists—Venatori, if I recall—know how to use them. The knowledge must be less rare than I thought. My own presence was a matter of habit rather than luck; I do not like not knowing what occurs there. As this has aptly demonstrated... the risk is considerable."
"We are in agreement," Marceline said. She was not particularly fond of the thought that they had what amounted to a back door into the heart of the Inquisition just laying around. They had soldiers posted by the mirror, but it was still uncomfortable knowledge that if they could somehow bypass the safeguards then they could theoretically be attacked. However, that was not her area of expertise, so she would allow Leon and Rilien to handle it.
She then shook her head and spoke again, "I am sorry, I am afraid I do not fully understand these eluvians, only what has been reported." Which was that it was used in an attempted assassination and subterfuge and led to what she suspected was a Venatori encampment. "If you would be so kind as to shed light on what they are, I would be thankful."
Harellan sat back in his seat a bit, leaving his hands still in the open and visible. "In simplest terms, they are transport, of sorts. Portals, if you like. For each eluvian that exists here, a match exists in the Between. As I said, they're quite safe when protected by passwords or other sorts of gatekeeping, but if left open they are as vulnerable as any unlocked door." He arched a dark brow. "Once, they connected all of Elvhenan, the ancient kingdom of the elves. But the world was much different then, and many have since been destroyed or otherwise lost. Far fewer remain."
“So why come through this one, then, if you had so many to choose from? Is it simply a matter of seeing your student safe, or did you have some cause for seeking out the Inquisition specifically?" It was clear that this was the crux of the matter, as far as Leon was concerned; Marceline could tell that he'd been waiting to ask the question for some time now.
Something changed in Harellan's expression. It was difficult to pick out exactly what, but it made him look older somehow. His age was hard to pin down already, and the shift only complicated matters. "I confess my motives are mostly selfish; I would like to remain where my student is, though I don't think he would find the suggestion particularly welcome. I fear my use to you would be quite limited; I am not so talented as he is, nor so inclined to the field of battle. But... I might be useful in other ways. I have some experience teaching, as you may have guessed. I believe in this respect I could be of particular help to the Lady Inquisitor."
“How so?" There was something not-quite-neutral about Rilien's question, but pinning it down was impossible.
"Her magic. Cyrus has described it to me. I believe I may be able to cultivate her talents in a way most other mages could not. Otherwise... I have some experience with the keeping of animals, if I might humbly earn my keep here in that way."
Marceline didn't answer immediately, but instead turned toward Rilien expectantly. While Estella was the Inquisitor, she was Rilien's pupil as well and she wished for his opinion on the matter.
“I have never been able to get her to commit to magic as a course of study. She has not wanted to, and I have therefore not insisted. If she should change her mind, I would be unsuitable as an instructor regardless." He gave no further assessment than that.
Marceline nodded and turned back to Harellan. "We still must discuss matters, among each other and with the Lady Inquisitor. It should be her decision, not ours. Ser Leonhardt?" she asked.
“That much seems fair," Leon agreed. “But it would likewise be fair to allow Harellan to make the case to her himself. In any event, I see no reason to keep you here. For now, we will appoint you a room in the barracks, if you would find the arrangement acceptable."
"That would be more than adequate. My thanks."
Marceline nodded and rose as she spoke, "And thank you Ser Harellan, for your patience."