Hello, it’s Alistair. I’m helping Enchanter Julius with Project Sashamiri now. We’re working on redecorating the office. Fur and leather, some dog statues, you know. We need some volunteers to help haul up a few barrels of mud—just for the smell, you know. We won’t spread it around the floor or anything. Maybe smear on the walls behind the dog tapestries…

[ Has he worn the joke completely out yet? Yes? Okay. ]

There’s also Corypheus. Not smeared on the walls, I mean—we’re working on him, too. If anyone doesn’t already know, he seems to be able to control darkspawn through the taint, and ah—the Red Templars, and lyrium being blighted solves that mystery—and us. Grey Wardens. I don’t think it’s a secret among anyone here that we’re tainted, too.

Maybe don't spread that around.

But—well, first of all, if anyone ever notices any of us acting strangely, you probably shouldn’t give us the benefit of the doubt. Don’t kill us right away, maybe. Keep in mind that we’re all already sort of strange. All of you, too, not just the Wardens. But if we’re unusually strange, let someone important know.

And second, I think we would prefer not to have to cut our way through our friends to get to Corypheus, if it’s avoidable. Not to mention it will be easier to get to him if he doesn’t have so much help. So if anyone has ideas for ways we might be able to counteract his control, I might have a way to try them out.

[ The audio starts, unfortunately, with a very loud sneeze. ]

My goodness-

[ A distant voice, some fumbling sounds, and then: ]

Oh, no. It turned on for that?

[ Yup, that's definitely Merrill. Despairing slightly. ]

Well- erm, hi. This is Merrill! I've finally gotten out from... well, where doesn't really matter so much partially because I'm not entirely certain where I was for parts of it but I'm back! Freely available! I would say I have office hours but it really depends on what's going on, so...

Erm, if you need anything, let me know? And welcome to everyone who's new!

Would anyone like to go ride griffons?

Hello, all. This is Leander, speaking on behalf of Project Jeshavis.

As most of you will remember, back in Bloomingtide there was an incident of abduction and falsely-reported death involving more than a few of our personnel. Well, I've an update for you:

The Baron Deshaies was indeed responsible for the disappearance and delivery of our people to the Venatori. Appropriate measures have been taken. There'll be no further details there, [because no one really needs to know in what condition the baron was left after their group encounter,] but, perhaps those of us who were stricken by the affair will nevertheless find some much-needed consolation in this news.

[Altogether an impressively neutral delivery, considering how he himself reacted after certain persons were named among the dead.]

Also, while our dear project leader is away on business for a number of weeks, any reports or inquiries meant for Jeshavis should be directed to me. As of today, I've moved completely out of the archives and may be found in the project office during hours.

[Which hours? Whichever he wants, he's in charge.]

That's all, thank you.

This is Yseult, head of the Scouting division. I'd like to discuss several pending operations. I will assign agents to them if necessary, but would prefer volunteers if possible.

But first, there's been a great deal of complaint about the mandatory etiquette training. I would remind you all that the ability to blend into any environment is an essential skill that will be useful in a variety of operations. You are free to dress and eat as you like on your own time, but if a mission requires that you be able to infiltrate a noble household without detection, you will be prepared to do so or else you will be responsible for endangering your fellow agents.

Second, I am in need of any agents, regardless of division, who are able to ride griffons and comfortable that they can handle their mounts at night and keep them relatively quiet for an upcoming mission to disrupt enemy supply convoys.

Admiral [ ugh ] Flint and I will also be running an attack on a casino-boat on the Minanter that is reported to be rife with enemy activity. We need a couple fighters, particularly anyone with Templar abilities or similar, and a couple combat mages. You must be able to swim. Please let us know if you believe you qualify.

Finally, we've received reports that Antonino Iacovelli will be meeting with a representative of House Fidencialis in Rialto to finalize a trade agreement for iron ore and possibly even to arrange some sort of marriage as well. We cannot allow a merchant prince and a Venatori magister to form such close ties. I'd like to hear proposals from members of my division for how we can disrupt the meeting and sour the relationship between these families.

Salut, amis. I come bearing terrible news.

[ It can’t be so terrible, given his tone. Not like a dozen people have suddenly died terrible. But he does sound somewhat contrite. ]

We are to have etiquette lessons—and dance lessons as well, while everyone is dressed up and accounted for—and I am afraid it is mandatory, because I asked the division heads if we could make it mandatory, please, and they said yes.

Mandatory does mean everyone. If you already know everything, you can come be a positive example. If you know nothing and would prefer not to learn—you will have to learn regardless. There is nothing anyone can do to stop it.

And it gets worse: we will do it on two different days, during two different weeks, to make sure anyone who has other obligations or has taken suddenly ill is nonetheless forced to participate.

The first is this Sunday, six o’clock, in the Mage Tower’s dining room. Wear what you would wear if a lord or lady invited you to dinner. Your attire will count toward your score, so if you don’t know what you would wear, find someone with an Orlesian accent before it is too late.

—I am truly sorry.

[ No he isn’t. ]

Salutations and warm felicitations, Riftwatch...-ers? Agents? [Slightly more distant here as Wysteria turns her face to address someone else in the room.] Which would you say sounds better? Do you suppose we ought to have a poll for that as well?

Oh, simply ‘Watchers’, I should think. It sounds terribly daring. [ Unsurprisingly, given the content, “someone else in the room” is Alexandrie.

Anyway. As if reading from a page:] We, 'we' being the founding members and administration, would like to extend an open invitation for all to sign up for the Officially Unofficial Riftwatch Croquet League - otherwise known as the Oh-You-Are-Sea-El. Teams shall be organized by groups of three. If you don't have two friends eager to play, though I cannot imagine who would possibly refuse, then teammates will be assigned to you. The season will be eight weeks long, culminating in a championship tournament in early August. To qualify for the tournament, you must participate in at least five games in the run up. The winning team will receive--

A stripe of gilding on the handle of their mallets—which they shall then be oathsworn not to pawn—a modest though not insubstantial purse, and automatic qualification for the tournament year next. Which I imagine shall be enough to inspire you to go to even greater heights to preserve the world. No world, no tournament year next!

Experience is no barrier. We'll have a demonstration game first, and you can always clarify the rules and requirements with any founding member of the Oh-You-Are-Sea-El. Which are, respectfully, myself, the dear Lady de la Fontaine, and--

Our own most beloved Merrill, companion of the Champion of this very city.

[ if a Dalish elf can play a silly noble’s game, you can do it too! (Nevermind that the Dalish elf was not informed of her participation or role in the league until this very moment. Hi Merrill!) ]

You may sign up on the board in the courtyard. There is space for both those who are individuals looking for a team, and those who have already, during the course of this announcement, decided upon their team names and mascots.

And now we will open the floor to questions. If you have none, then of course we wish you all the best and look forward to your appearance at the demonstration match. Date to be decided.

Hello Inquisition! ❰ guess who's back!!! ❱ Or rather, Riftwatch — that'll take some getting used to; you've all been very busy these past six months.

I am Adalia Ennaris, newly appointed Head Archivist for Riftwatch, but some of you may remember me from my previous time spent with the Inquisition. I was here for nearly a year before the rifts reclaimed me, and now I return, older and wiser and in charge of all your books. Some may also remember that I grew up in a library, so books and the care of them is very near and dear to my heart.

❰ here adalia pauses, and takes a sort of contemplative, but very pointed tone. ❱

In fact, in Candlekeep we have some frankly barbaric practices when it came to those who would vandalize or steal our books. Vandals could be blinded and have their hands cut off; thieves would be either stripped of all wordly possessions and exiled or made to complete a dangerous quest in search of a rare and precious book to replace what they took. Those who endangered the whole archive would be killed and burned, as, ❰ a light laugh, ❱ and I'm sure we all know this, those who destroy knowledge, be it with ink, fire, or sword, are themselves destroyed.

❰ another pause, and then adalia's tone evens out again. one can almost hear a smile. ❱

I'm not sure what my rules will be as regards care of the archives, but with that as my base to draw upon, I'm sure I'll find something fitting. It's good to be back, Inquisition.

Riftwatch. ❰ with decreasing volume, as adalia moves on to other things, before the crystal abruptly goes silent. ❱ Damnit, I'm never going to remember that —

[There is a sound of crackling paper and a faint, birdish noise. After some delay, as if to gather his thoughts, there comes a voice in an odd, drawling accent. He is eating something from a paper package.]

I feels that, given the circumstances, some congratulations are in order.

[The paper rattles. crunch crunch crunch crunch]

Now, t'be fair, I had heard a good deal of rumors before comings here. Why, to hear some people's talk, you coulds be building a new chantry everys-other day and they'd say it was just so's that you could burn it down in the mornings, but I still expecteds a lot of poor management here. But.

But.

I sees now, [crunch crunch crunch crunch] That I oughts to be calling it allegedlies poor management.

Griffons. Real live griffons. And I thought yous were full of it, when I heard! And do you knows, Warden Teren's been called deads out in Antiva? Now there's a lie what's getting somebodies in trouble. And it might be that I'm the new warden in town and alls, but as I sees it, I owes you an apology, each and every ones of you, don't mind saying.

Seems you could be doing a lot worse.

[crunch crunch crunch crunch. The paper-rattle is getting quite loud now, must be nearly empty.]

I'm Warden-Constable Barty Bjurnsen, bys the way. Pleased to meet'cha all.

In light of the recent chaos, not to mention that we’re all being shuffled around, I’d like to remind those that remain in any form working for the office-formally-named-as-Elven Artifacts that we still have work to do. Just because you caught an attack of verbal incontinence it doesn’t follow we get to take a nap, so let’s move on with it.

[There is a sharp knocking sound, as if aligning a stack of papers by tapping them on a desk.]

Firstly of all, would the person who keeps stealing people’s packed lunches please just stop. Everyone knows who you are, and food’s not even being charged for in the commissary. It’s already included as part of your pay, just go and get your own, for goodness’ sake.

Second, since apparently no one but me cares about actual records-keeping, and now we’re in charge of a great load of yet more artifacts, let’s have some help moving them into actual secure locations, if you please. That means with doors, and that lock, and that more than one person knows what’s in them, and can tell if something were to change, thank you. And labels, with actual proper descriptions, if you can imagine it.

( A call for volunteers... )

"Truth", like some glittering blade, both fascinates and frightens. Often it is spoken of as something absolute, something universal. But it never is.

I have wrested truths from people more times than I can count.

Again

and again

...and again.

Truth gives shape to Regret, and from Regret springs forth the Form...

[There is a pause and the sound of him taking a sip of something; tea or maybe something stronger. Who even knows.]

...I wonder if a place can hold Regret the same as a person?



Those esteemed gathered, let me ask of you


...your Truth and your Regret.