Herald of Destruction
Panting, Varric trudged after Cassandra as they returned to the crossroads. They had run as fast as they could, trying to catch up with Perseus, having to fight rebel mages, rebel templars, sell swords, and irate sheep. They'd just barely gotten halfway to the fort in the hills, marking a place for a good forward camp as they went, only for Perseus and Cerridwen to fly over their heads on that 'Pegasus' thing of his, heading back the way they'd just come from. Now they were finally back, he could see the kid still here, and he could tell Cassandra wasn't happy. "Jackson!" speaking of, he looked to see the angry Seeker stomping towards their beloved 'Herald'. "What were you thinking?!"
"There was a life that needed saving, so I acted." Perseus was unabashed as he stared her back in the eye, Cerridwen choosing to stay silent.
"Well. we still have some things we can do to help around here, and we need to go find Horse Master Dennet." Varric decided to break up the ensuing argument "Plus we found these notes about where the Mage and Templar rebels are holed up. Looks like we'll pass the area they control as we head to get horses." Perseus nodded as he took the notes, frowning intensely for some reason before handing them to Cerridwen.
"Perseus, do not run off like that again." Cassandra scolded, attempting to steer the conversation back to the earlier issue.
"You were busy, and the woman was dying, there wasn't time to spent getting you." Percy remained firm.
"It's like dealing with a teenage Hawke." Varric chuckled out, trying to use humor to hide the pants shitting terror such a concept gave him.
"At least I got us more eyes and mouths for the inquisition." Perseus shrugged as Varric and Cassandra paused, glancing at each other.
"Kid…what do you mean by that?" Varric asked, really hoping the kid didn't have a horde of crazy cultist zealots worshipping him now.
"The cult in the hills worship the breach and pledged themselves to Percy's service when he showed he could close the breaches." Cerridwen spoke up, "He ordered them to help the refuges, spread word of the inquisition, and gather information for Leliana."
"Kid, don't poke at the crazy cult people!" Varric slapped a palm to his face, exasperated that he had to tell anyone that.
"Would you rather I let them find and start serving whoever made the breach?" Percy asked with a raised eyebrow.
"…Damnit kid, stop using good arguments!" Varric grumbled, hating that the kid actually made sense there.
"I'll stop using them when they stop working. Now come on, you both said we had work to do." Perseus gave Cerridwen a smile before they set out.
"Wait, did she call him 'Percy'?" Cassandra looked at him before they shook their heads and rushed to catch up to the teenagers.
"We'll find the Templars first yes?" Percy asked as they walked, glancing at Cerridwen who had the notes Cassandra and Varric had found.
"You read the notes, you should know that." Cassandra frowned at him while Varric narrowed his eyes.
"Kid…is there something you're not telling us?" Varric probed as Percy sighed, hating going into this, especially as he wasn't sure this society would understand it.
"I'm what's known as Dyslexic. It's a disorder where when I try to read most languages, the words seem to float off the page and rearrange themselves. The only language I haven't seen it done is Greek which those notes distinctly weren't written in." Percy explained, seeing his new friends work to process that.
"Is it a curse?" Cassandra frowned in bewilderment.
"No, it's just something I was born with. Like how some people are allergic to certain foods that their bodies just can't process, my brain has this issue with reading." Percy hoped they would accept the extreme dumbing down that was comparing it to a peanut allergy.
"Then I will be your eyes my friend." Cerridwen smiled at him warmly, his archer companion having seemed bubblier than before since he told her to call him Percy.
"And maybe you could teach us your language." Cassandra gave her best attempt as a supportive smile, but it was clear it wasn't a role she was used to "It would make a useful language for coding messages at the very least if nobody but you and those you teach can read it."
"What about stories, your people have any good stories?" Varric asked, thankfully changing the topic as they continued through the Hinterlands.
"Well, my mother was a writer." Percy offered as Varric's eyes lit up happily at the notion of a fellow wordsmith, "I actually remember her story word for word. I could never read her notes as a kid for…mentioned reasons, so she would tell me her story to help me fall asleep." He shrugged "I heard it so many times I know her story by heart." And now it was the only thing he had left of her besides her memory.
"Kid, tell me the story and I'll make sure it's published throughout Thedas." Varric promised
"It is time to focus." Cassandra interrupted, "We are approaching the Templar base." As she spoke, she pointed to a trail up the hills before the bridge, a campfire noticeable with a small stream of smoke.
"Ready." Percy narrowed his eyes, drawing his blades as he stands ready and eager to take out his aggression on the bastards who were causing so much bloodshed and strife to innocent people.
-Grand Cleric Victoire-
Scowling, Victoire paced about her office within Val Royeaux. She'd just gotten word that her assassin had failed to kill that blasphemous usurper and now, to make things worse, Mother Giselle had proven herself a traitor to the chantry as well by daring to deal with those heathens. "This is what you get for hiring an Antivan." A bemuse voice spoke from behind her as she turned to see a masked figure opening her hidden liquor cabinet, "So dreadfully common."
"You have a lot of nerve to talk to me in that way." Victoire flared her nostrils indignantly, recognizing the figure as a representative of the house of repose. How dare some vulgar assassin even think to lecture someone of her standing?!
"Those in glass houses shouldn't throw stones." The assassin chided as he poured himself a generous glass from the most expensive bottle in the cabinet, "Especially when they hire second rate Antivans for a job as important as the one you apparently did. And I mean really, working with the Crows? While living in Orlais? Shame upon you."
"Don't you think to lecture m-" her tirade was cut off by a dagger pressing its tip against her throat as the calm assassin finished his drink.
"This is quite tasty." They smirked at her, lazily tossing the glass into her fireplace where the fine crystal shattered.
"What…do…you…want?" she hissed out, her patience running thin.
"I came to inform you that the House of Repose is willing to take up this contract, and see that it's done correctly." The assassin smirked "Of course the House of Repose is an organization of professionals. We'll expect more than just the vague promise of some possible future jobs. We expect to be paid upfront. I'll return soon enough, so think about how much this matter means to you. Oh, and I would think fast, I hear the Inquisition's spy master is quite…ruthless, when she wants to be."
Frowning, Solas looked around the Crossroads, seeing a lot of hustle and bustle but no sign of those he'd come with. "Where is everybody?"