goldenmarked Val Royeaux. It was a beautiful city, a true gem of the world, but like anything Orlesian, it was remarkably garish. Statues lining the main paths to the central bazaar, bits of bright cloth leading from the buildings to the centerpiece, and of course bits of gold platting everywhere one turned. The only thing Aden Trevelyan could truly admit to appreciating were the figures of lions roaring their giant maws towards any whom approached the bazaar. Tributes to remembered heroes.
They were not there to observe the decor though. No, the advisers of the fledgling Inquisition had finally agreed that the best course of action was to send their Herald to see about persuading some of the Chantry sisters away from their dismissals of the Inquisition. Support from the Andrastian Chantry would greatly help bolster the resources of the Inquisition, and if they didn't manage that, at least the resistance against them might be weakened. Maxwell Trevelyan, the man whom had fallen out of the fade and been dubbed the Herald of Andraste, had already expressed his doubts as to the success of the mission, but he was willing to try. He was willing to at least make his appearance, if nothing more to gain more information about the next step they would need to take against the Breach.
It seemed things were a lot more complicated than initially perceived though. The Templars, most of whom had gone off when the Nevvaran Accord was nullified, were also making an appearance. Whispers were that the Templars were rejoining the Chantry in order to fight off this rebellious Inquisition. Aden couldn't help but have some small hope that perhaps that was true, because that would mean they'd have a chance to persuade them as well. Perhaps the Maker was giving them a chance to unify against the true threat. On the other hand, Aden also worried for his brother, worried for the Herald of Andraste, because if he was considered a heretic, that very well meant that they might be forced into conflict. Fighting against his former Order was not something Aden wanted to do, but he would do so in order to defend his family.
Hopefully it didn't come to that. Following the youngest Trevelyan into the bazaar, Aden gave a quiet prayer to the Maker for his brother's safety, even as he walked forward with Cassandra, Solas and Varric to guard his back. The sounds of a gathering could be heard ahead, voices raised in fear and rage. Maxwell's steps faltered, his bright hawk eyes gazing over the group uneasily. Running his hand through his bright silver hair, he turned to look at his brother, a sardonic curve touching his lips.
"So, what do you say? Straight into the fire?" His tone was playful, a fact that Aden simply shook his head about. Leave it to the younger to make light of a tense situation.
"I don't see why not, so long as we're careful." Aden replied, his own yellow touched blue eyes flicking about to keep aware for danger. He saw no signs of the templars in question, not yet. Where were they? He kept looking even as Maxwell took a deep breath, turned back towards the horde, and made to step forward again, his shoulders set.