In Orlais, Inquisition, where so many of you are now so lucky to be-- [And his accent is so Orlesian, so yes, he would know how lucky you are!] --we have an appreciation for beauty. Since the Inquisition has made foray to this country, each report will be redolent with agreements and accolades to my point. Orlais' streets and buildings, artwork and artistry--fashion, if you can stomach its peculiar charm--countryside, the wildlife, the gardens--even the arrangement of food, upon a plate--all of it, such beauty. And in a time of such strife a we live--we should appreciate beauty all the more.

So first--a poem.

[And he clears his throat and recites, in quite a good voice; this is not his first poetry reading:] ( My fingers... )

[He concludes with a sigh.]

Such beauty. This, my friends, is the work of none other than one of Orlais' finest poets: Ilde Sauvageon, a name all should know. Is it too bold to speak of her so highly? Orlais has had so many poets, and Sauvageon is so young in comparison. What's more, some have made the claim that her work is without propriety. Why either of these would be a complaint, I do not know. The brutal confrontation of each line has a beauty all its own, a signature charm that cannot be put into words, yet is still felt quite deeply.

And if someone finds himself uncomfortably aroused by such directness--as I suspect is the case, with Sauvageon's critics--then he should seek his comfort, not demean the work of a celebrated poet.

And now that we are in the mood for it--an announcement! A need has arisen for the mages of the Inquisition to submit themselves to a contest of beauty. This is entirely the idea of your fellow mage, Sadira, who I find to be of uncommon good looks and a charming temperament--and possessed of unfortunate taste in wine, but she cannot help herself, I suppose. No portraits need be submitted, but all will be considered and judged against a model of perfection.

Of course, we will wait, for there are so many of the Inquisition so far from Skyhold. Sadira has insisted it be so. But in the darkness of each day, you must fix your mind upon beauty, and what better beauty than this collected beauties that will be in all of our futures! A contest always cheers the spirits. We all, I think, need cheering.