Chapter Text
Inside, I shattered.
Everything that had mattered most to me in this world seemed to have been utterly destroyed in moments and I couldn’t seem to fathom how it happened.
My brain felt as if it was full of static and I felt as if I’d been completely hollowed out. I couldn’t even feel the pain that I logically felt should be there. I didn’t even feel as if I was a part of myself anymore, no longer attached to my own body, as if I were watching a character play out a scene from a movie.
I’m not sure how long I was there, sitting on the ground, staring out in the direction Solas had gone.
Sitting.
When had I sat back down?
A part of me wanted to stand. To run. Towards where Solas had gone. Away, in the opposite direction. But my body felt like lead, even blinking felt like it took all the power in my body.
But, unlike Solas, I was not free to go anywhere, even should my legs work perfectly. I was the Inquisitor. The leader of this increasingly powerful organization, and me running off into the wilderness would never be accepted. And even if I did, where could I go? I had no one here outside the Inquisition. I was stuck here. And the two people that had supported me the most were now gone. One forever, and the other… Would Solas ever return? Did it even matter?
My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of someone in front of me. I briefly acknowledged that I should be startled, but I just couldn’t muster the interest or energy to do so. It didn’t matter.
It took me a little time before enough fog cleared in my mind to recognize Bryn sitting before me. She was saying something, but the words seemed to slip through my brain like swift silver fish. She kept speaking, the words seeming to slow a little. I caught something about making camp and then I heard my own voice, though it felt as if it came from a great distance.
“No. Not here. We can’t stay here. Not here.”
She seemed to accept this. I was able to catch a few other bits and pieces. Names. Something about scouting. Most if it slipped through my mind like mist, insubstantial and fleeting.
Most of the next few hours were a complete blur. Somehow Bryn must have got me back on my feet and onto my horse. A site was found a ways off where I seemed okay about making camp. The others eventually met us there. I’m still not sure what exactly Bryn and the others told them about what happened. I do remember sitting away from everyone, lost in my shattered reality, staring at nothing until I was eventually coaxed into my tent to “rest”.
I know it took a very long time to fall asleep as I couldn’t bear even the thought of entering the Fade. Fortunately, my exhaustion was complete enough that, once I succumbed to it, I was dead to both sides of the Veil.
I slept a long time. I could tell the sun was high and bright when I finally returned to a waking state.
A part of me only wanted to go back to sleep. I wanted to retreat into myself and forget the world existed for as long as possible.
But I knew, for me, that could not be long at all. I was still Inquisitor. I could not retreat into myself. I could not run away, as Solas had. I had responsibilities that demanded I be present. The world would not stop moving forward just because Solas had left.
While my companions might allow some leeway, I would get little quarter from the rest of the world.
The weight of my position had never felt heavier and it took me some time to pull myself through the panic attack that reality triggered.
I wanted to scream, but I used every last ounce of control I had left to stay silent as waves of pain and panic washed through me. My sobs muffled into the blankets, as I gripped them in clenched fists. My nails doing their best to rip apart the blanket instead of where I’d previously let them rip at my arms, only stopping myself as they began to draw blood.
Again, only exhaustion, relieved me of this violent emotional turmoil.
I slept again for a time, but could tell it couldn’t have been more than a few hours later. The angle of the sun had changed, but the day was still bright.
I now felt a heavy numbness draped over me like a weighted blanket, but without any of the comfort. Still, I realized this was probably the best I could expect and if I could hold on to this, perhaps I could at least do what I must.
Slowly, I gathered myself. It felt like gathering the shattered pieces of crushed pottery into a bag. Just collecting the mess into one place where it could be safely set aside and contained.
I needed to get myself together.
No one had come for me yet, but it was only a matter of time. No matter how supportive my party might be, that did not erase the obligations we had. The obligations I had. I was Inquisitor, and however much I might want to retreat from the world to wallow and lick my wounds in peace, I did not have that luxury. There was still so much work to be done, and like it or not, I had to be part of that.
My head ached and my stomach felt hollow, whether from hunger and dehydration, or simple misery.
I pulled out my pack and began the process of putting myself together physically to help with the mental side as well. One small step at a time, one small action at a time, one breath at a time.
I pulled out my water and took a sip, finding it surprisingly more cool and refreshing than I expected. I drank some more, but was careful to keep each mouthful slow and measured, feeling the water flow across my tongue. I then dampened a cloth to wipe away the remains of sweat and tears. I pulled out a comb to make sure my hair lay smooth. It needed to be washed, but no more than was usual on the road. I changed out my tunic for a fresh one.
I focused on each step, performing them carefully and deliberately as I made myself ready to present myself properly as Inquisitor to the others who were undoubtedly waiting for me to emerge and debating whether to check on me or not. It would be best if I saved them from that decision.
Once I was done readying myself, I placed everything carefully back into my pack. I then took a moment to close my eyes and take a couple deep breaths, before finally moving to the entrance of my tent.
I gave myself a final mental once-over, checking my newly constructed facade, to make sure it was ready to present to the others, and the newly built walls to hold back the reality of everything I’d so recently lost, so I’d be able to function enough to do what I needed to. It was not an unfamiliar process, but it had been so long since I needed to perform it that it was like using a muscle that hadn’t been used in a long time, so I took my time, trying to be sure I got it right.
One more deep breath and I finally stepped out into the sunshine, a bright light that felt like it was trying to burn me from inside and out, and yet did nothing to dissipate the dark haze that felt like it had been cast over everything.
I could see my tent was placed some distance away from the center of camp, but I could still see some movement and hear the murmur of voices probably deliberately kept low so as not to disturb me. I wanted to be touched by the consideration, but I had to push it aside to uphold the damn that was precariously holding back the ocean of emotions that sought the slightest opening to burst forth and overwhelm me in a tsunami.
I only let myself take in the scene for another moment before I stepped out into the over-bright world and stood, trying to breathe past a tight feeling in my chest as I anticipated my next move, walking to the center of the camp and actually facing everyone.
Somehow my feet moved me forward without my conscious control.
I didn’t really look at anyone as I entered the central area near the fire, but I could hear silence descend as the others noticed my arrival.
I didn’t say anything, instead moving to the fire where a pot of stew had been prepared, in obvious expectation that we’d be here for more than a quick stop. I wasn’t really hungry, but I needed the appearance of normalcy, and it probably would also be in my best interest to get something in my stomach. Appetite or no, my body would still need the energy.
I served myself some stew, bread, and cheese before taking a seat.
I looked up then and took in the people around me, without looking too closely at their expressions. I was pretty sure only a few had been here when I arrived, but it seemed like my full party were here now. With one notable exception.
I looked down down at my food, stirring the stew mindlessly, watching the steam rise from it as I took a breath.
“So, what are our objectives in this region?” I asked no one in particular. “We might as well get those taken care of since we’re here. Let’s figure out a plan and we can get started tomorrow.”
The silence continued for a few beats and I could sense the looks being exchanged around me, but I keep my eyes focused on the food I held, taking a small bite of the stew as I waited, concentrating of the feel of it in my mouth. I couldn’t taste it, but I could feel the heat and the way the soft vegetables were crushed between my teeth to slide over my tongue and down my throat.
Unsurprisingly, it was Bryn who spoke first.
“There have been reports of bandits, possibly more Freemen of the Dales, as well as a group of Dalish. There are at least three rifts that were spotted in the area and there are some ruins that may be worth looking at if there’s time.”
With that, discussion started around me as the priority of objectives were discussed and a plan was formulated. It was almost a relief to fall into the familiar pattern, focusing only on these mundane matters. Almost. As the discussion continued, I tried to not notice how tight my skin felt, how I never quite felt I had the right amount of oxygen in my lungs, how every bite of food I had seemed to have no flavor. I did my best to keep my mind on the plan, on the goals that needed to be achieved and what steps were needed to do so.
Once the plan was fixed, the conversation turned more to it’s usual evening banter, though I could still feel a careful hesitation in the air, as if everyone was being a little extra careful with the words they were choosing.
In truth, I didn’t really listen. Instead, I just let the sound of it wash over me. I tried to at least appear attentive, but I’m not sure how well I succeeded.
Eventually, dark fell and everyone began heading to their tents.
Dorian was on first watch that night, which made it easy for me to approach him before heading to my own tent.
“Do you have a potion or anything that will keep me out of the Fade?” I asked, without preamble.
To his credit, he only hesitated a moment and refrained from comment before going to retrieve his pack of magic related supplies and pulling out a small bottle.
“There’s only enough there for a few nights, but I’ll see if I can find the ingredients for more. It might also be worth asking the Dalish if they have anything,” he said.
I nodded and thanked him, before heading off to my tent.
Once back inside, I held the bottle in my hand and looked at it for long moments, as if in contemplation, but really I was just doing my best to keep my mind blank.
Finally, I took a dose of the potion according to Dorian’s instructions, before carefully closing the bottle and packing it away as safely as I could. Then, with deliberate concentration, I prepared for sleep, finally laying down on my bedroll and closing my eyes.
Fortunately, sleep found me quickly. An empty, black, and blessedly dreamless sleep.
My memory of the days that followed were hazy at best.
The days weren’t nearly as trying as they had been, but they felt ten times harder to get through and I felt ten times more drained at the end of them.
Most of the objectives that remained in the area were much lower risk and lower stakes than everything we’d already dealt with. There were some ruins to go through, which might have been interesting at another time, but under the circumstances, it took all my energy to not think about what Solas would think or say about them, to not imagine the conversations we might have regarding their history and significance. There were some rifts to close and some bandits to mop up. That was easy, except for when my eyes would reflexively search for that familiar figure to coordinate a familiar strategy that was no longer possible in his absence.
There was also the clan of Dalish. I should have been a nervous wreck at the prospect of meeting and dealing with them, but I didn’t have the energy for that. In the end, it was really quite easy. We helped them out with some things and they happily traded with us and gave us information. They even had a concoction I could use to keep me out of the Fade. I knew enough Elvish language and lore at this point, that they didn’t have the slightest suspicion of my actual origins and were actually quite pleased to see another apparent Dalish in such a position and still willing to help out their own.
Once all that was done, we headed back the way we came to check back in with the Imperial forces and check a couple areas we’d missed previously. We discovered another dragon, too, but it seemed pretty contained and wasn’t bothering anyone, so it was decided to let it be for now. There was a part of me that just wanted to take the thing on, but I was at least able to recognize I probably wasn’t in the best state of mind to actually do so and it was a risk that just wasn’t worth taking in the long run.
Throughout it all, there was a lot of empty time as we travelled between objectives, and longer spans spent in camp than we’d been able to for weeks. During these times I struggled to keep my mind off all the things I so desperately needed to avoid thinking about. In truth, it was an impossible task. Everything reminded me of Wisdom or Solas and how my losing them both probably doomed all my efforts to save this world. But I couldn’t afford to just start crying or have a panic attack as we rode on to the next objective, so I had to keep forcefully pushing the thoughts and memories away. I’d try to focus on what my companions were saying, or small details about the place around me, but I couldn’t focus for long and the cycle would repeat itself again and again. I took to holding a scrap of sturdy cloth when I had nothing else to occupy my hands, to pull and worry at as the sole outlet for all the internal turmoil.
The others did their best. No one mentioned Solas or what had happened that day. I spoke very little, usually only when necessary, but no one tried to push for more conversation, rather they did their best to keep a stream of conversation, banter and stories going to help distract me.
I appreciated their efforts, but it was hard. Sometimes it just felt like too much noise and that even maintaining a silent mask around them was too much, so I’d go to my tent, where the relative quiet would immediately become oppressive and my mind filled in the spaces with everything I didn’t want to face.
At least I was able to stay away from the Fade. Not only would being there force me to face everything head on, but it would likely amplify all the emotions I was struggling with tenfold. I used that fact as justification to stay away. That many strong emotions could be dangerous, even with all I’d learned about dealing with inhabitants of the Fade. And I didn’t want to be in the Fade anyway, so why risk it?
A couple weeks went by like this and we were basically done in the area when we received the request to head to Sahrnia and Emprise du Lion next, where trouble was being reported.
The information we were given painted a grim picture, but I found myself eager to get there. I needed a purpose and something to keep me busy, to keep my mind away from everything still haunting me and this seemed like the perfect way to do that. Besides, it was basically on the way back to Skyhold.
The party had had plenty of time to recover from the previous grueling weeks, so I wasn’t all that worried about pushing them too hard. I was still a wreck, but I knew that wasn’t going to change any time soon. Fighting the Venetori or Templars, or whoever it was this time, would at least give me something worthwhile to focus on that wasn’t the shattered remains of my heart.
Our journey to Sahrnia started out fairly uneventful. For the sake of my party, I was glad for this, but for my own sake, I was miserable. Too much time to think and next to nothing that could prove a decent distraction. The days passed in a sluggish haze. Hours that seemed to last days, but then sometimes days that seemed as if they never were. I didn’t sleep well, and never felt truly rested upon waking, but at least I managed to stay out of the Fade.
However, it was clear to me that this would be unsustainable. I had to find a way to occupy my mind. To keep myself sane and functional.
I turned to my magic studies. I didn’t have many books available, but I’d been learning for a year now and had a wealth of knowledge and experience under my belt, and there was always Dorian, if I had questions, so I turned my thoughts to how I could use and improve the skills I’d been honing all this time.
I thought up ideas on new ways I might try to use magic, both in and out of battle. I thought of ways to use it more efficiently, to be able to sustain my magic for longer. I didn’t have the opportunity to try a lot of my ideas, especially anything destructive, but I found ways to practice my control overall.
I took inspiration from some of what I used to do in the Fade when experimenting with how I could manipulate the environment there.
In the evenings, at the fire, I would choose a single tendril of fire and shape it to my liking, sometimes weaving it with one or two other small tendrils. I kept it very small, so the other’s were unlikely to notice. As I got better, I’d try the same exercises again, splitting my focus between my task and listening to the stories my companions were telling.
I did similar things with other elements, like the water or wind, when the opportunity presented itself, challenging myself with more intricate and difficult manipulations of said elements.
In this way, I pulled my mind from the deep fog it had been mired in. My soul still felt encased in heavy darkness, but there was a space within that darkness that allowed me to move forward and function as the leader I needed to be. When we reached our next objective, I would be ready to deal with it.
When we finally made it to Sahrnia, it was to an utterly frozen landscape. While the spring came more slowly so close to the mountains, there should have been at least the early signs of the changing seasons, but even the waterfall remained completely frozen. Clearly, some kind of magic was affecting the region’s weather in some way.
It was plain that the Red Templars had been in the area for months, stealing away the townspeople to labor for them. It wasn’t quite a ghost town, but an unnatural emptiness was evident wherever we walked. Many houses appeared abandoned and markets were sparse.
The mayor told the Inquisition that many people had been taken to the quarry to work, though she could not say what their purpose was. Our scouts, however, had already discovered some patches of red lyrium leading up to the quarry, making it clear to those who knew about my experience in the future, that this was likely what was being mined now.
Varric cursed at the news and I couldn’t blame him. I had no idea how we were meant to deal with so much red lyrium, even once we got rid of the Red Templars and anyone else doing Corypheus’ dirty work. That was to say nothing about how I would have to deal with being surrounded by the stuff again. At least it was only for a day in Redcliffe, but it was likely to take several days, if not weeks, to clear Emprise du Lion of enemies.
We’d have to make sure severe warnings went out to all Inquisition personal in the area as well, in an effort to keep them as far away from all the lyrium as possible, in hopes of preventing them interacting with it at all. But, people being people, and if the area was as overrun with the stuff as it had been in the game, there would be no way to insure everyone left it alone.
I didn’t like anything about this situation, but it was clear we’d just have to do our best, and the first priority was to stop any more red lyrium from being made. This meant getting rid of everyone responsible for this operation, and at this point, I was confident that, with my companions, this was going to be a very doable thing. Hard, but doable.
We spent a couple days in town getting as much information from our scouts as possible and formulating a plan.
After over a year in this world, my memory of the actual game had become pretty fuzzy. I still had everything I’d written down early on to help refresh things, but this area was one I didn’t have many strong memories of to begin with. I didn’t remember much more than getting lost trying to explore every area of the game map and that there was a demon somewhere. Fortunately, in this reality, we had a lot better maps, and helpful guidance from our scouts, who would continue to bring back intel as we proceeded, so at least I didn’t have to worry about wasting time wandering aimlessly.
As I sorted through my faded memories the night before we set out for the quarry, I found myself musing on one particular difference. Earlier in the day I’d been delivered a variety of supplies I’d requested from the camp’s acting requisitions officer. Instead of being the one who had to find a bunch of random stuff, I was actually the one submitting requests while others took care of finding things. Oh the privilege of actually being in charge.
Not long after we set out, it was made clear that our arrival in the area had not gone unnoticed by our enemies.
It wasn’t surprising. The camp just outside Sahrnia wasn’t all that small and it was growing daily as the growing Inquisition sent increasing resources to support our intended takeover of the area.
We no longer had the luxury of sneaking in and taking everyone by surprise. Hence, fortifications and increased alert certainly made our job harder. It didn’t help that we were down to two mages now, a fact that stoked a growing pit of anger in my gut.
I’d begun pushing aside the pain I felt and started letting myself be angry. There were many things I could be angry at Solas for, but the one I preferred to focus on was how he’d promised to give his support, to help us, help me, against Corypheus, and now he was just gone, leaving us noticeably weaker for his absence. This is where he needed to be, where he promised to be, and he’d left without a thought. It was selfish and irresponsible.
Deeper down, I knew it was more complicated, though no less worthy of my anger, but thinking of it in this way was safest for me. And being angry helped me do what I needed to do. Anger could fuel me, where the depression only sucked me dry. Sure, the fire of anger could consume me too, but at the moment, it was also all that kept me standing. I needed it. It gave me focus against the poisonous hum of the red lyrium and honed my edge to take down the enemy forces with a ruthless efficiency that had The Iron Bull practically giddy.
And we were efficient.
My party wasn’t responsible for taking everyone out. There were smaller outposts that some of our army were able to handle as we led the charge to more critical objectives. We attacked, gained ground, secured it quickly with our growing forces, and spent the evenings coordinating our moves for the next day using the latest information from our amazing scouts. Bryn even did some reconnaissance herself, bringing back valuable intelligence that allowed us to strike as effectively as possible.
The fighting was hard, and though we did find some red lyrium it seemed that it wasn’t so widespread as I’d originally feared and remembered it being in the game. Maybe we got here early enough to prevent that, or maybe they were actually being somewhat careful and smart enough not to let the stuff spread with abandon. Either way, I was grateful.
The first large concentration of the stuff we found was by the Tower of Bone, just outside the quarry. It was fortunately localized to only a few areas, but the large spires we found brought back memories of Redcliffe I had to quickly push away, not to mention the itching hum it always produced. I knew prolonged exposure to the stuff could cause people to hear some kind of singing though, and I just hoped I never had to experience that. Something about the prospect filled me with an unnamable horror.
Fortunately, only Cole and I seemed to be truly affected by the red lyrium, but Varric backed up our concerns and we made sure to arrange precautions that would hopefully keep others as far away as possible.
However, the situation was significantly different once we got into the quarry proper.
Red lyrium was everywhere. Even Dorian said he could feel it now. Said it made his bones itchy. I wished that was all I felt.
There were baskets and carts filled with harvested lyrium and immense spires and outcroppings all throughout the quarry. We fought red Templars in various stages of corruption and it was not hard to tell which of the enslaved workers had been there longer. There seemed to be a hollowness to their features that I could only hope would fade once they were far away from the lyrium’s corrupting influence.
None we found seemed to hear the lyrium’s song, but some of those we talked too said that there had been those that complained of hearing strange singing, and, every time, they were soon taken away by the guards, never to be seen again.
Clearing out the quarry took a long time, and the longer I had to spend around the lyrium, the worse I felt. I wasn’t hearing singing, fortunately, but it was like I could feel this very low vibration that seemed to resonate throughout my skeleton, making me feel something akin to vertigo. It took all my focus to keep up the fight as we navigated the complex labyrinth of the quarry. Even with a detailed map, it was confusing, and some things had been changed since the Templar’s arrival.
We cleared out about half the quarry the first day and had to stop the push forward once the sun had gone too low. This meant we would have to spend the night within the quarry, as the nearest camp was too far to reach in the dark.
We didn’t have to worry about an attack, the enemy would be as disadvantaged as us, and we had plenty of soldiers who’d joined us to secure any ground we gained. However, I knew it would be impossible for me to sleep here, I could barely even remain still, my limbs feeling a nearly uncontrollable urge to always be moving, yet doing so never gave any real relief.
I’m not even sure how I managed to get through the night as I tried to hide the growing agitation under my skin. I couldn’t focus on anything but resisting the urge to stand up and start pacing. I knew if I started I wouldn’t be able to stop. It would draw too much attention from both my own party and the other soldiers present, and it would only serve to make me even more tired the next day. I couldn’t rest, but I also couldn’t move. I couldn’t escape the hum of the Lyrium and I couldn’t do anything to distract myself from it. I don’t remember much from that night, except that it was torture.
Relief only came when we were finally able to get moving the next morning as soon as the light allowed. Despite my exhaustion, the agitation only seemed to make me fight all the harder. Fortunately, this resulted in us being able to fully clear the quarry, and therefore set up camp outside it. Once my tent was set up, I almost immediately fell into dreamless sleep, without even the aid of my usual tea.
The next day we rested and began planning our next move, the next big objective being Suledin Keep.
We’d managed to gather a bit more intel on the demon Imshael from Ser Michel de Chevin and from bits of correspondence we’d found. However, other than Ser Michel, we couldn’t find anyone else who had actually encountered the demon. He was clearly the one in charge of the operations here and it seemed many feared him a great deal.
While my notes and my faded memory indicated he was a particularly difficult adversary, I couldn’t bring myself to feel much trepidation in what I knew was to be an inevitable face off.
We knew there were Red Templars throughout the keep as well that we would have to get past first, but this was similarly unworrying for me. I knew I should be worried about how unworried I was, but I did not have the energy to care. All I wanted was to keep channeling all that pain I knew still boiled inside me into fighting these horrors that had hurt so many.
Fighting was the only way forward I could imagine, the only thing that seemed to matter at all. So I would fight, and hope doing so would be enough to hold me together.
Attacking the keep wasn’t all that different from how things had gone in the quarry. In fact, for me, it was markedly easier, as there was far less red lyrium present.
I remember being incredibly focused as we fought our way through, yet, my memory of it all remains mostly a blur.
Meeting Imshael was the only part that stood out, that stuck with me to any degree.
When I was finally face to face with him, he gave some kind of greeting I didn’t pay attention to, I was more focused on trying to get a sense of him and his nature. I could tell he was not human, and though he had a human form, he was also not like Cole. He was also not like most of the demons we encountered, nor quite like the spirits I’d met. He felt more…solid, somehow, more a part of the real world. I wasn’t sure if this was due to how long he’d been here or something else. He was a curiosity, but he’d caused too much harm to be left alone and was clearly too dangerous to ever be fully studied.
After he’d stopped speaking I spoke myself, “You are the demon Imshael, I presume.”
“Choice spirit,” he insisted.
I gave him a look that I hoped translated as bored skepticism.
A couple of my party members shouted out comments at the demon and he made some kind of riposte before promising to offer me a choice.
“True to my name, I will show you that you have a choice. It doesn’t always have to end in blood.”
I knew this was coming and didn’t really have the patience to listen to whatever speil he had for me.
“Oh, I know I have a choice, but I’m afraid I’ve already made it. There is nothing you can offer me that I actually want. Even if you said you could, I wouldn’t believe you. And you have caused far too much harm already and cannot be allowed to continue, so I’m afraid there is only one outcome to be had here.”
He probably said something else at this point, but I was focused on preparing for the fight that started soon after.
It was by far the most intense fight of the day. Imshael was certainly stronger than any of the demons we were used to dealing with, and there were red templars to also deal with. The fight dragged on. I focused on using magic to support everyone in the center of the fray. And cursed Solas again for leaving us.
Finally though, the fight was done. Imshael was no more and our final objective had been completed.
We took some time to catch our breaths, too tired to truly celebrate the accomplishment. There were some minor injuries, but nothing of any serious concern. Despite everything, I took a moment to appreciate the achievement as it made it clear just how far we had all come. We had grown in number, but more than that, we had grown together to form a team that was able to work incredibly well together, despite the clear differences between its members. I was proud of that. We may be down one, but this team was good enough now, that they could still accomplish so much anyway.
Eventually, we made our way back out of Suledin Keep. Soon it would be claimed by the Inquisition, yet another foothold toward bringing back order from all this chaos.
We rested for a few days, meeting and coordinating with local leaders and arriving Inquisition members to secure the area and assist the survivors of what had happened here.
The time became yet another blur in my mind, though I made the effort to record at least some thoughts in my journal each day, emptying things from my head that I simply needed to get out somehow, though I didn’t know if I would ever look back to read any of it.
Finally, things were settled enough that we packed up and headed back onto the road. Back to Skyhold.