Snippet #1742592

Ah, so he was going to refuse. Not entirely unexpected, truly. At least he wasn't denying who he was anymore; that had to count for something. "Who, me? Oh, I'm nobody terribly important. Just a glorified mercenary, really, with a silly title and some official paperwork to pretty me up for Chantry service." Beryl shrugged nonchalantly, smoothing a couple wet tendrils of hair back from her face. Of course, he also wanted to know what her stake in the whole thing was, which was a fair question, perhaps, if one was about to be pulled into a plan in which she had to admit she factored rather importantly, at least for the moment.

"Call me Beryl, if you like. As for what I have invested in this... that's a rather personal question, and I don't think I should be telling anyone who isn't part of the cause, hm?" Her tone was after the manner of a light jest, and she flashed a smile to indicate that she wasn't offended. Her words were true enough, though; her identity and the circumstances which had led her here were quite plainly 'need-to-know' information. She paused for a moment, and her jocular expression slowly melted off her face, to be replaced by a rather more somber one.

"It's more complicated than you think, though. It's not just Tevinter marching on Orlais... they're marching on all of Thedas. With most of the Circles being as unstable as they are, and the dominion that such a rule offers mages of any kind, I doubt it will be easy to maintain order for much longer, even as far out as the Ferelden Circle. People are going to die, and not just on the battlefield. Some of them won't deserve it. Isn't that reason enough to be involved?" She sighed sadly and shook her head. That was a little more truth than she'd intended to tell, but there was not taking it back now.

At last, they reached the inn they'd departed from. "Well, Hero of Ferelden, if you wish to remain anonymous and undisturbed, I shall leave you be, I suppose. I really wasn't ordered to succeed in bringing you back, only to find you and deliver a message. But I do not think, for what it's worth, that you will escape Tevinter's notice for long, and I can imagine only too well what that might mean." She grimaced; the Antivans took a lot of their more brutal methods of torture and subjugation from old Tevinter knowledge. There was no way they'd let a figure like him live and provide hope of rescue to a conquered people. That, the Tevinters had learned from the Qunari. Or was it the other way around? It was so hard to tell.

"My horse is here, so I suppose this is where we part ways, hm? Do take care of yourself. I'd hate to hear you've died or something." She chuckled, but her earlier thoughts still weighed her down and made the humor feel a little flat. On a more cheerful day, she might have winked or punched him lightly on the shoulder or something (because she really was that friendly with even strangers). Too bad today wasn't a particularly cheerful day then.