Aurora wiped her own blade on the shoulder of the thug at her mercy, causing him to twitch in response before grabbing his collar and pushing. "Go on. You heard your boss. Limp on out of here," she said, tongue firmly in cheek as the blade receded back into her bracer. She may or may not have been on a power trip thanks to the versatility of Amalia's gift. She began to wonder why hadn't she ever thought about carrying a dagger or something before. As the thugs left Aurora approached the others she had just so recently aided. Introductions were in order, of course. Though now that she was closer, she finally realized the sole noncombatant was a Sister of the Chantry. Her gaze lingered on her for a couple of moments before her attentions were turned on the woman wielding the sword.
The name she gave was one she certainly wasn't expecting. Sophia Dumar? As in the Viscount Dumar? This woman was the Viscount's daughter? Traipsing about the Lowtown slums at a such an odd hour? It was strange to put it mildly. The wheels in Aurora's head began to turn for a moment before she responded. For a Noble, she knew her way around blade, almost better than the thugs she had fought. Then another thing clicked. Was this the Sophia Amalia spoke of? If so, that meant this woman was also present for the slaying of the dragon and the cleaning out of the Bone Pit. Surely, this woman was not one to be underestimated. The immense coincidence of them meeting there was not lost of on her. Either way, it seemed like she picked the right side to aid. Though, Aurora made a note to be careful with her magic around her, just as Amalia warned.
For her own introduction, she bowed and said, "Hello miss Dumar. I am Aurora Rose," despite her own careful nature, she couldn't find the will to give the woman a false identity. Well... More false. She then pointed at the wounds Sophia had sustained and said, "Do you need bandages or..." she trailed off. It was perfectly within her power to heal the woman of her injuries, though she did not wish to reveal her mage powers. Obviously, she had close ties with the Chantry and things could get... Muddy if she revealed them.
Lucien's head had whipped around just in time to see his final assailant being handled by a slender young woman with a most curious weapon. She winked at him, and he found himself smiling. There was something to be said for being able to maintain a certain amount of levity in situations like this one, and he straightened even as Sophia dealt with ridding them of the men still conscious. The ones he'd put under would all wake with massive headaches, but it wouldn't be anything worse than the average hangover, perhaps. Probably not an unusual occurrence for at least a few of them.
At Aurora's introduction, Lucien's smile only grew, and though the bow had not been for him, he returned the gesture in kind, though he was perhaps more practiced with them. "A pleasure, milady," he said, just a trace of humor at the edges of the words. "Lucien Drakon, at your service." He was not worried that anyone knew their ancient Orlesian history well enough to recognize the name. Nobody he'd yet met had, after all. Straightening, he followed the redheaded woman's line of sight to Sophia and frowned when he noticed the injury. It wasn't a debilitating one, but it was bound to be uncomfortable at the very least, and of course it brought him no pleasure to see his friends in pain.
Sophia seemed to be more or less fine, however, and his eye fixed askance on the priestess. He had not missed that she was still present, and his initial curiosity as to her reasons for being here had returned now that the immediate problem was dealt with. The armored Templar just now edging in on the scene was of further curiosity, and Lucien had the dark suspicion that he was going to be quite displeased in short order, as he might well be discovering that the three of them had risked themselves for a problem that was not a problem after all. That would, if true, transform the lady's injury from an unfortunate but tolerable consequence of doing what was necessary to an entirely pointless case of pain, which was most certainly not the same thing. Especially not to him.
Still, he would wait for an explanation before he jumped to conclusions.
"I'll be fine," Sophia said to Aurora, dismissing the injury. She reached into a small pouch on her belt and pulled out a little vial of red liquid, which she proceeded to drink only half of. Bran had gifted it to her, figuring if he could not stop her from pursuing a dangerous path, he'd at least help make sure she survived it. The half of the healing potion was enough to stop any bleeding, and allowed her to return to the matter at hand: Sister Petrice. The Chantry sister was at Sophia's side at this point.
"Thank you for your timely intervention, Sophia. And you two as well. I am... out of my element." Sophia nodded her understanding. That much had been obvious. "I'm just glad you're alright. These streets can be deadly at night. Why are you here, Petrice?" She sighed, a sign of frustration perhaps. "I had to come here to get the type of person I need. Someone of bloody skill, but also integrity. If I'd known of your presence here, and your skill with a blade, I suppose I could have saved myself the trip."
Sophia rested her hands upon her hips. "And why the need for someone like me? Is whatever you need done not a task the Templars could perform?" Petrice shook her head. "It's not so simple. I have a charge who needs passage from the city. If you are willing to assist the Chantry, please meet me at my safehouse at this location. We can discuss in more detail there." She handed Sophia a small piece of parchment with an address upon it, the location to meet her. "If your friends would be willing to assist," she added, "there would be coin available to them."
Now Sophia was beginning to become frustrated. Of course she would be willing to assist the Chantry, but why the need for all the secrecy, and why the search for Lowtown mercenaries? She was starting to get the sense that whatever Petrice was involved in, she was in over her head. "Petrice, what's going on? If you'll just-" but she was cut off by the sister with a wave of her hand. "I'm sorry, Sophia, but I can say no more here. Varnell!"
The name was called to the armored Templar, who had made his way towards the group from behind Sophia. The sight of a Templar here as well only served to confuse Sophia further. Clearly, she was not so defenseless as she had first seemed. "I hope you will consider coming, all of you," Petrice said. "This matter only grows more urgent with time." With that, she and the Templar departed quickly, in the direction of their safehouse, leaving Sophia, Lucien, and Aurora among the unconscious thugs. The Viscount's daughter turned to the mercenary, and the young woman who had come to their aid.
"I have a bad feeling about this," she admitted. "I'm not sure what she's gotten herself into. Escorting a charge from the city? I'm not sure why the Chantry would involve themselves in such a thing... but there must be a reason. I'm going to find out, at least, and see if there's something I can do to help. I would not ask either of you to throw yourselves into this, but if you would like, I would appreciate the company." She wasn't sure if Aurora had any training in defending herself other than with the little blade she'd used, but she seemed like she could handle herself. And Lucien of course would be extremely helpful to have along, both for his superior skill in battle, and his knowledge of the area. Sophia also had to admit she was hoping he would offer his assistance.
Lucien was, indeed, displeased. A test. It was always nice to know that agents of the Divine were willing to risk the lives of good samaritan passers-by to find someone who could do a job that the Chantry was apparently unwilling to put the Templars, the face of their military arm, on. The fact that that Templar- Varnell, the sister had said- was only one in number only lent fuel to the low-banked fire in his gut. Such an insufficient force would have been no guarantee of anyone's survival but the sister's, in all likelihood. It reeked of everything he'd learned to expect from the politics of the Grand Cathedral, and more than once, he'd seen his aunt frustrated by corruption she could not publicly decry. Something was very, very wrong here, and he didn't even know what the plan was yet. Even so, he knew that Sophia would not share these particular thoughts of his, or at least certainly not to the same degree, and so he kept his face neutral as he replied. He would not allow himself to be dishonest, but he was not going to be confrontational either. She did not deserve it.
"I must confess I find the entire affair incredibly shady thus far, but if it is your wish to see this to its end, I will assist," he replied quite truthfully. He was concerned, both about what they would be asked to do and also about the fact that Sophia's natural trust of the institution might blind her to potential dangers. She was not foolish, but he knew quite well that sometimes, those of naive faith in something could simply not register its flaws. His faith had not been in the Chantry, but for all other purposes, she was much the same as he'd been some years ago. It went without saying that he wished to prevent her from suffering the same consequences if possible.
"Did anybody else see the Templar... Just watching us?" Aurora pointed behind the Sister and at her armored friend. That... Irked her. Sure, she didn't like the Templars on principle, them trying to lock one up in a Tower for the rest of one's life could do that to a girl, but that wasn't it. It was rather that he chose to watch the pair fight without stepping in. The mere sight of a Templar could perhaps have nipped the fight before it began. Though, secretly it was a bit of a proud moment for her. A mage stepping in where a Templar would not. She liked that idea. What she did not like was the muddy dealings she had just stepped waist deep in. Something was off and askew, and she had to get to the bottom of it, else not be able to sleep that night due to pure curiousity.
"Me too," Aurora added behind Lucien, "I'm curious as to how far this rabbit hole goes, so to say." she stated.
Shady was a word Sophia had never considered applying to the Chantry, but she couldn't help but feel the same way. It bothered her immensely, and only strengthened her desire to investigate further. The fact that she, Lucien, and Aurora had all just risked their lives when Petrice could have simply asked Sophia for help was unfortunate, but Petrice had said herself she hadn't been aware of Sophia's skill with a blade. That in of itself seemed odd, considering how quickly word of her recent behavior had gotten around, but Sophia reminded herself not to make too much of it. There had to be a better purpose here. No doubt it would become more clear once they saw the charge they were to escort.
"Thank you, both of you," Sophia said, visibly relieved, though clearly quite bothered by what she had just heard. "Surely it won't hurt to hear her out. Come on, we shouldn't keep her waiting, if this is as urgent as she claims." With that she led the way towards the location she had been given. She knew of the general area, as the street named was not far from the Hanged Man, and thus she avoided getting lost as they traveled. It was well into night at this point, but the seeming weight of the situation served to keep Sophia very much awake.
The safehouse was numbered according to the parchment Petrice had given her, and Sophia pointed it out as she saw it. "Here we are," she said, leading the way. The door was slightly ajar, and Sophia pushed it open, heading inside, Lucien and Aurora behind her. Safehouse probably implied more than the place was worth, as it was little more than a hovel with a door. Sparse candles against the far wall lit the interior of the initial room, but otherwise, it appeared as though no one had used the building for a living space in some time. The Templar, Varnell, leaned against a nearby wooden table, his sword in hand, the point of which was resting against the ground. He offered no words upon seeing Sophia, and she gave him a slight nod of greeting in return.
"I'm glad you came, Sophia," Petrice said from near the candles on the far wall, "This matter is most delicate, but I'm certain you and your friends will be more than capable enough to handle it." Sophia took a few steps forward, to stand near the center of the room. "It is an escort," Petrice continued, "but I think you will agree, the nature of the party makes this... unique." More sidestepping around the point. Sophia folded her arms across her chest, visibly growing tired of it. "Petrice, I want to help, but if this is something criminal..."
The sister did not immediately refute Sophia's suggestion, which bothered her even more. "This should make things more clear. Here is my burden of charity... Ketojan!" At the call of the name, a disturbing sight came into view: he was immediately recognizable as kossith, one of the Qunari, but he was... chained, in nearly every conceivable way. A half shattered mask covered his face, the lower part gone, revealing lips that were sown mostly shut, and it was not immediately clear if he was capable of speaking at all. An incredibly heavy looking collar sat around his neck and shoulder, chains draping around every part of his being. Still, he carried himself with a certain undeniable strength, as though the bindings he wore were simply a normal thing. The sight caused Sophia's breath to catch in her throat momentarily, before she managed to breathe out a simple "Maker..."
"Behold what the followers of the Qun do to their mages. A grotesque and extreme stance, to be sure. Where the Templars seek to protect the mages from themselves as well as others, the Qunari seek only to bind and imprison them. A fate comparable, and perhaps worse, to death." Petrice took a few steps towards the Qunari mage, to stand before him. "He's a survivor of infighting with the Qunari Tal-Vashoth outcasts. I call him 'Ketojan,' a bridge between worlds."
She turned back to Sophia and the others. "Instead of returning this mage to his brutal kin, to no doubt continue this same terrible existence, let him serve a better purpose. I would see him free. He must be guided from the city without alerting his people."
"Wh-what? Qunari... Mage?" Aurora fumbled as she took a step back, bumping against Lucien. That is what they did to their mages? It shook her to her very core. He was chained and collared, mouth sewn short. He was burdened. The comparisons with how the Templar treated mages was instant, even before Petrice brought up her own view. This... Poor creature. It was as if he bore the physical manifestation of the burden every mage carried. Her breath was hitched and she was near to tears, unable to hide her obvious distress. To the others, it may just seem like simple fear or pity, but it struck deeper than that. Much deeper.
Did Amalia know? She had to have known. Did... Did she see her like this monster? Like a creature that should be chained up-- mouth sown shut and caged? A hand reached up to her mouth to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. She couldn't bear to look at the the Kossith anymore, she averted her gaze down, both hands now cupping her mouth, breathing deeply and heavily. Her mind raced with the possibilities, of Amalia, of what she may, or may not had planned. It was with great effort she managed to push it all out of her mind with repeated mental recitation of her chosen word. Rosaline. Rosaline. Rose. Rose. Rose. Bloody Rose. Even that hardly did what it was meant to. Considering it was the Qunari who had taught her that. Suppose it was easy to lock up your fellows if everything was an illusion...
She... She needed to help this creature-- No, this man. He was a mage, just like her. Who would she be if she could not find it in herself to aid her. Even if helping the poor man was against the Qun, she didn't care. No one should be caged like that, no matter what. The Qun could go to hell, along with the rest of the Qunari, she was helping him find his own freedom, just like she had found her. She nodded and added, "Th-this is wrong. Mage or not, no one deserves this. He must be set free," she said resolutely. So distressed she was, she did not see the irony in that it was the Sister who wished to free the mage.
Lucien's hand automatically found its way to Aurora's shoulder when she stumbled back into him, but the rock-steady Chevalier did not even move. She was hardly much weight, and the motion of his arm was more for her benefit than his. He heard the sister's words, but his eye didn't leave the Qunari, head tilted faintly to one side, a thoughtful expression on his face. Certainly, it looked like quite the unsavory predicament, and yet if he was suffering or troubled by his existence, the kossith made absolutely no sign of it. He seemed to be... waiting for something, almost. Patiently, unwaveringly. It was not something Lucien would have recognized had he not known it firsthand. The comparison was imperfect, but something in the man's posture reminded him of a soldier at attention, a vassal awaiting his latest set of orders. By no means was it Orlesian parade rest, but... it was evocative.
He wondered if all was as it seemed. It rarely was, after all. A muffled sound distracted him, and he glanced back down at the young woman in front of him. Was she... shaking? No, perhaps he was imagining that. Either way, he removed his hand from her person, as it was apparently no longer necessary to her balance. She seemed quite stricken by the Qunari's predicament, and he wondered about that, but it was not really any of his business, and so he let it be. Really, none of this was any of his business, but here he was. The situation was so strange that he couldn't really say for sure if his honor required a certain course of action over another, and this, he thought, was probably due to a dearth of information, one which he doubted their contractors would be willing to rectify, if indeed they were able.
"You are asking us to risk much," he pointed out quietly. "The Arishok did not strike me as a particularly tolerant fellow, and if we are discovered, the Lady Sophia's involvement could easily be taken as an indication that this act had official sanction from the Viscount. Peace is not maintained by making such overt moves against a potentially-hostile force." His words were directed more at Sophia herself than Petrice, though it was certainly possible she had realized this fact already. For his own purposes, these considerations were important, but he would have been more interested to hear what the Qunari's preference on the matter was. "Does Ketojan speak the trade tongue?" he asked curiously, though he did in fact address himself to the kossith. His lips were sewn, but the bindings seemed somewhat loose, as though he might still talk past them. Perhaps it was more a symbolic or ritual act than one meant to actually prevent him from speaking. It probably had to be, if he ate.
Ketojan made a slight grumbling noise, but otherwise did not move or react to being addressed. Petrice seemed to ignore the majority of Lucien's words, focusing on a particular part. "You... have met with the Arishok?" She shook her head, perhaps due to the unlikelihood of encountering anyone who had spoken with him, considering how few were granted that chance. "Then you know how they would treat those who leave their heathen order. The Arishok would doom this poor creature." She seemed to consider something for a moment. "But perhaps this is advantageous. They must respect you, at least to some degree, if you were allowed to speak with them, the Arishok specifically. Surely they would not attack one whom they were previously civil with, should it come to that. It would only confirm their barbarism."
To say Sophia was torn would be an understatement. After finally wrapping her head around the situation, the gravity of it became extremely clear to her. This situation was only made more dangerous with her involvement, and yet now that she saw this mage... could she really walk away? The revelation that Lucien had dealt with the Qunari seemed insignificant to her at the moment, though she would likely want to ask him about it at some point. Right now, there was a decision to be made. Aurora seemed adamant on Ketojan's freedom, for whatever reasons she may have had. Lucien acted as the voice of reason as always, and his point hit home with her. The last thing she wanted was for this to fall back on her father. She wanted to help him, not undermine him. And yet... she knew what he would do in this situation. He would return the mage to his people without a second thought, appease them, give them what they wanted. Sophia had sought to better understand their culture, as her brother had suggested, but this... that they would do this to their own people sickened her.
"Is this truly something that Chantry resources cannot perform?" she inquired quietly. She needed more information. "The Chantry will soon realize the Qunari presence is more than a test of faith... it is an open challenge," Petrice explained, "But for now, I must act on my own. Can we simply ignore their heresy by allowing such an injustice to continue? The one who allows an evil act to occur is as wicked as the one who performs it, I say." It was exactly what Sophia hadn't wanted to hear, and exactly what she'd expected. This was going against the will of her father, and against the will of Chantry leadership. But the sister's words... the Qunari did not seem to be making urgent attempts to remove themselves from the city, in fact, what they were doing could easily be called militarization. They had already built themselves a fortified position within the Docks, unleashed deserters in the form of bandits upon the city's travelers. They did not negotiate with her father. As much as she hated to admit it, the city would be a significantly less troubled place if they left. And while this act would not make them leave by itself, it was a start. Differences in culture she could understand, but this... brutality, this senseless pain they inflicted on their own, she could not abide by.
"I'll do it," she said, steeling herself. "I cannot leave him to this kind of suffering. You have a plan, I'm assuming?" Petrice nodded. "Yes. The passage here," she gestured to a trap door in the back room, "leads into the warrens of the Undercity, a route that leads beyond the walls of the city. It is dangerous, but I trust in your abilities, Sophia. Thank you for doing the right thing here. I wish you the best of luck."
That left the matter of her companions, and Sophia turned to face them. Aurora she was quite certain would join her, and though Sophia was entirely certain how much help she would be, if the girl wanted to assist, she would not deny her the opportunity. Lucien, however, she could tell was much more apprehensive. She had no desire to drag him into something like this... but she also knew his help would likely prove invaluable. "I'm not sure about any of this," she admitted, "but I can't just walk away."
The name she gave was one she certainly wasn't expecting. Sophia Dumar? As in the Viscount Dumar? This woman was the Viscount's daughter? Traipsing about the Lowtown slums at a such an odd hour? It was strange to put it mildly. The wheels in Aurora's head began to turn for a moment before she responded. For a Noble, she knew her way around blade, almost better than the thugs she had fought. Then another thing clicked. Was this the Sophia Amalia spoke of? If so, that meant this woman was also present for the slaying of the dragon and the cleaning out of the Bone Pit. Surely, this woman was not one to be underestimated. The immense coincidence of them meeting there was not lost of on her. Either way, it seemed like she picked the right side to aid. Though, Aurora made a note to be careful with her magic around her, just as Amalia warned.
For her own introduction, she bowed and said, "Hello miss Dumar. I am Aurora Rose," despite her own careful nature, she couldn't find the will to give the woman a false identity. Well... More false. She then pointed at the wounds Sophia had sustained and said, "Do you need bandages or..." she trailed off. It was perfectly within her power to heal the woman of her injuries, though she did not wish to reveal her mage powers. Obviously, she had close ties with the Chantry and things could get... Muddy if she revealed them.
Lucien's head had whipped around just in time to see his final assailant being handled by a slender young woman with a most curious weapon. She winked at him, and he found himself smiling. There was something to be said for being able to maintain a certain amount of levity in situations like this one, and he straightened even as Sophia dealt with ridding them of the men still conscious. The ones he'd put under would all wake with massive headaches, but it wouldn't be anything worse than the average hangover, perhaps. Probably not an unusual occurrence for at least a few of them.
At Aurora's introduction, Lucien's smile only grew, and though the bow had not been for him, he returned the gesture in kind, though he was perhaps more practiced with them. "A pleasure, milady," he said, just a trace of humor at the edges of the words. "Lucien Drakon, at your service." He was not worried that anyone knew their ancient Orlesian history well enough to recognize the name. Nobody he'd yet met had, after all. Straightening, he followed the redheaded woman's line of sight to Sophia and frowned when he noticed the injury. It wasn't a debilitating one, but it was bound to be uncomfortable at the very least, and of course it brought him no pleasure to see his friends in pain.
Sophia seemed to be more or less fine, however, and his eye fixed askance on the priestess. He had not missed that she was still present, and his initial curiosity as to her reasons for being here had returned now that the immediate problem was dealt with. The armored Templar just now edging in on the scene was of further curiosity, and Lucien had the dark suspicion that he was going to be quite displeased in short order, as he might well be discovering that the three of them had risked themselves for a problem that was not a problem after all. That would, if true, transform the lady's injury from an unfortunate but tolerable consequence of doing what was necessary to an entirely pointless case of pain, which was most certainly not the same thing. Especially not to him.
Still, he would wait for an explanation before he jumped to conclusions.
"I'll be fine," Sophia said to Aurora, dismissing the injury. She reached into a small pouch on her belt and pulled out a little vial of red liquid, which she proceeded to drink only half of. Bran had gifted it to her, figuring if he could not stop her from pursuing a dangerous path, he'd at least help make sure she survived it. The half of the healing potion was enough to stop any bleeding, and allowed her to return to the matter at hand: Sister Petrice. The Chantry sister was at Sophia's side at this point.
"Thank you for your timely intervention, Sophia. And you two as well. I am... out of my element." Sophia nodded her understanding. That much had been obvious. "I'm just glad you're alright. These streets can be deadly at night. Why are you here, Petrice?" She sighed, a sign of frustration perhaps. "I had to come here to get the type of person I need. Someone of bloody skill, but also integrity. If I'd known of your presence here, and your skill with a blade, I suppose I could have saved myself the trip."
Sophia rested her hands upon her hips. "And why the need for someone like me? Is whatever you need done not a task the Templars could perform?" Petrice shook her head. "It's not so simple. I have a charge who needs passage from the city. If you are willing to assist the Chantry, please meet me at my safehouse at this location. We can discuss in more detail there." She handed Sophia a small piece of parchment with an address upon it, the location to meet her. "If your friends would be willing to assist," she added, "there would be coin available to them."
Now Sophia was beginning to become frustrated. Of course she would be willing to assist the Chantry, but why the need for all the secrecy, and why the search for Lowtown mercenaries? She was starting to get the sense that whatever Petrice was involved in, she was in over her head. "Petrice, what's going on? If you'll just-" but she was cut off by the sister with a wave of her hand. "I'm sorry, Sophia, but I can say no more here. Varnell!"
The name was called to the armored Templar, who had made his way towards the group from behind Sophia. The sight of a Templar here as well only served to confuse Sophia further. Clearly, she was not so defenseless as she had first seemed. "I hope you will consider coming, all of you," Petrice said. "This matter only grows more urgent with time." With that, she and the Templar departed quickly, in the direction of their safehouse, leaving Sophia, Lucien, and Aurora among the unconscious thugs. The Viscount's daughter turned to the mercenary, and the young woman who had come to their aid.
"I have a bad feeling about this," she admitted. "I'm not sure what she's gotten herself into. Escorting a charge from the city? I'm not sure why the Chantry would involve themselves in such a thing... but there must be a reason. I'm going to find out, at least, and see if there's something I can do to help. I would not ask either of you to throw yourselves into this, but if you would like, I would appreciate the company." She wasn't sure if Aurora had any training in defending herself other than with the little blade she'd used, but she seemed like she could handle herself. And Lucien of course would be extremely helpful to have along, both for his superior skill in battle, and his knowledge of the area. Sophia also had to admit she was hoping he would offer his assistance.
Lucien was, indeed, displeased. A test. It was always nice to know that agents of the Divine were willing to risk the lives of good samaritan passers-by to find someone who could do a job that the Chantry was apparently unwilling to put the Templars, the face of their military arm, on. The fact that that Templar- Varnell, the sister had said- was only one in number only lent fuel to the low-banked fire in his gut. Such an insufficient force would have been no guarantee of anyone's survival but the sister's, in all likelihood. It reeked of everything he'd learned to expect from the politics of the Grand Cathedral, and more than once, he'd seen his aunt frustrated by corruption she could not publicly decry. Something was very, very wrong here, and he didn't even know what the plan was yet. Even so, he knew that Sophia would not share these particular thoughts of his, or at least certainly not to the same degree, and so he kept his face neutral as he replied. He would not allow himself to be dishonest, but he was not going to be confrontational either. She did not deserve it.
"I must confess I find the entire affair incredibly shady thus far, but if it is your wish to see this to its end, I will assist," he replied quite truthfully. He was concerned, both about what they would be asked to do and also about the fact that Sophia's natural trust of the institution might blind her to potential dangers. She was not foolish, but he knew quite well that sometimes, those of naive faith in something could simply not register its flaws. His faith had not been in the Chantry, but for all other purposes, she was much the same as he'd been some years ago. It went without saying that he wished to prevent her from suffering the same consequences if possible.
"Did anybody else see the Templar... Just watching us?" Aurora pointed behind the Sister and at her armored friend. That... Irked her. Sure, she didn't like the Templars on principle, them trying to lock one up in a Tower for the rest of one's life could do that to a girl, but that wasn't it. It was rather that he chose to watch the pair fight without stepping in. The mere sight of a Templar could perhaps have nipped the fight before it began. Though, secretly it was a bit of a proud moment for her. A mage stepping in where a Templar would not. She liked that idea. What she did not like was the muddy dealings she had just stepped waist deep in. Something was off and askew, and she had to get to the bottom of it, else not be able to sleep that night due to pure curiousity.
"Me too," Aurora added behind Lucien, "I'm curious as to how far this rabbit hole goes, so to say." she stated.
Shady was a word Sophia had never considered applying to the Chantry, but she couldn't help but feel the same way. It bothered her immensely, and only strengthened her desire to investigate further. The fact that she, Lucien, and Aurora had all just risked their lives when Petrice could have simply asked Sophia for help was unfortunate, but Petrice had said herself she hadn't been aware of Sophia's skill with a blade. That in of itself seemed odd, considering how quickly word of her recent behavior had gotten around, but Sophia reminded herself not to make too much of it. There had to be a better purpose here. No doubt it would become more clear once they saw the charge they were to escort.
"Thank you, both of you," Sophia said, visibly relieved, though clearly quite bothered by what she had just heard. "Surely it won't hurt to hear her out. Come on, we shouldn't keep her waiting, if this is as urgent as she claims." With that she led the way towards the location she had been given. She knew of the general area, as the street named was not far from the Hanged Man, and thus she avoided getting lost as they traveled. It was well into night at this point, but the seeming weight of the situation served to keep Sophia very much awake.
The safehouse was numbered according to the parchment Petrice had given her, and Sophia pointed it out as she saw it. "Here we are," she said, leading the way. The door was slightly ajar, and Sophia pushed it open, heading inside, Lucien and Aurora behind her. Safehouse probably implied more than the place was worth, as it was little more than a hovel with a door. Sparse candles against the far wall lit the interior of the initial room, but otherwise, it appeared as though no one had used the building for a living space in some time. The Templar, Varnell, leaned against a nearby wooden table, his sword in hand, the point of which was resting against the ground. He offered no words upon seeing Sophia, and she gave him a slight nod of greeting in return.
"I'm glad you came, Sophia," Petrice said from near the candles on the far wall, "This matter is most delicate, but I'm certain you and your friends will be more than capable enough to handle it." Sophia took a few steps forward, to stand near the center of the room. "It is an escort," Petrice continued, "but I think you will agree, the nature of the party makes this... unique." More sidestepping around the point. Sophia folded her arms across her chest, visibly growing tired of it. "Petrice, I want to help, but if this is something criminal..."
The sister did not immediately refute Sophia's suggestion, which bothered her even more. "This should make things more clear. Here is my burden of charity... Ketojan!" At the call of the name, a disturbing sight came into view: he was immediately recognizable as kossith, one of the Qunari, but he was... chained, in nearly every conceivable way. A half shattered mask covered his face, the lower part gone, revealing lips that were sown mostly shut, and it was not immediately clear if he was capable of speaking at all. An incredibly heavy looking collar sat around his neck and shoulder, chains draping around every part of his being. Still, he carried himself with a certain undeniable strength, as though the bindings he wore were simply a normal thing. The sight caused Sophia's breath to catch in her throat momentarily, before she managed to breathe out a simple "Maker..."
"Behold what the followers of the Qun do to their mages. A grotesque and extreme stance, to be sure. Where the Templars seek to protect the mages from themselves as well as others, the Qunari seek only to bind and imprison them. A fate comparable, and perhaps worse, to death." Petrice took a few steps towards the Qunari mage, to stand before him. "He's a survivor of infighting with the Qunari Tal-Vashoth outcasts. I call him 'Ketojan,' a bridge between worlds."
She turned back to Sophia and the others. "Instead of returning this mage to his brutal kin, to no doubt continue this same terrible existence, let him serve a better purpose. I would see him free. He must be guided from the city without alerting his people."
"Wh-what? Qunari... Mage?" Aurora fumbled as she took a step back, bumping against Lucien. That is what they did to their mages? It shook her to her very core. He was chained and collared, mouth sewn short. He was burdened. The comparisons with how the Templar treated mages was instant, even before Petrice brought up her own view. This... Poor creature. It was as if he bore the physical manifestation of the burden every mage carried. Her breath was hitched and she was near to tears, unable to hide her obvious distress. To the others, it may just seem like simple fear or pity, but it struck deeper than that. Much deeper.
Did Amalia know? She had to have known. Did... Did she see her like this monster? Like a creature that should be chained up-- mouth sown shut and caged? A hand reached up to her mouth to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. She couldn't bear to look at the the Kossith anymore, she averted her gaze down, both hands now cupping her mouth, breathing deeply and heavily. Her mind raced with the possibilities, of Amalia, of what she may, or may not had planned. It was with great effort she managed to push it all out of her mind with repeated mental recitation of her chosen word. Rosaline. Rosaline. Rose. Rose. Rose. Bloody Rose. Even that hardly did what it was meant to. Considering it was the Qunari who had taught her that. Suppose it was easy to lock up your fellows if everything was an illusion...
She... She needed to help this creature-- No, this man. He was a mage, just like her. Who would she be if she could not find it in herself to aid her. Even if helping the poor man was against the Qun, she didn't care. No one should be caged like that, no matter what. The Qun could go to hell, along with the rest of the Qunari, she was helping him find his own freedom, just like she had found her. She nodded and added, "Th-this is wrong. Mage or not, no one deserves this. He must be set free," she said resolutely. So distressed she was, she did not see the irony in that it was the Sister who wished to free the mage.
Lucien's hand automatically found its way to Aurora's shoulder when she stumbled back into him, but the rock-steady Chevalier did not even move. She was hardly much weight, and the motion of his arm was more for her benefit than his. He heard the sister's words, but his eye didn't leave the Qunari, head tilted faintly to one side, a thoughtful expression on his face. Certainly, it looked like quite the unsavory predicament, and yet if he was suffering or troubled by his existence, the kossith made absolutely no sign of it. He seemed to be... waiting for something, almost. Patiently, unwaveringly. It was not something Lucien would have recognized had he not known it firsthand. The comparison was imperfect, but something in the man's posture reminded him of a soldier at attention, a vassal awaiting his latest set of orders. By no means was it Orlesian parade rest, but... it was evocative.
He wondered if all was as it seemed. It rarely was, after all. A muffled sound distracted him, and he glanced back down at the young woman in front of him. Was she... shaking? No, perhaps he was imagining that. Either way, he removed his hand from her person, as it was apparently no longer necessary to her balance. She seemed quite stricken by the Qunari's predicament, and he wondered about that, but it was not really any of his business, and so he let it be. Really, none of this was any of his business, but here he was. The situation was so strange that he couldn't really say for sure if his honor required a certain course of action over another, and this, he thought, was probably due to a dearth of information, one which he doubted their contractors would be willing to rectify, if indeed they were able.
"You are asking us to risk much," he pointed out quietly. "The Arishok did not strike me as a particularly tolerant fellow, and if we are discovered, the Lady Sophia's involvement could easily be taken as an indication that this act had official sanction from the Viscount. Peace is not maintained by making such overt moves against a potentially-hostile force." His words were directed more at Sophia herself than Petrice, though it was certainly possible she had realized this fact already. For his own purposes, these considerations were important, but he would have been more interested to hear what the Qunari's preference on the matter was. "Does Ketojan speak the trade tongue?" he asked curiously, though he did in fact address himself to the kossith. His lips were sewn, but the bindings seemed somewhat loose, as though he might still talk past them. Perhaps it was more a symbolic or ritual act than one meant to actually prevent him from speaking. It probably had to be, if he ate.
Ketojan made a slight grumbling noise, but otherwise did not move or react to being addressed. Petrice seemed to ignore the majority of Lucien's words, focusing on a particular part. "You... have met with the Arishok?" She shook her head, perhaps due to the unlikelihood of encountering anyone who had spoken with him, considering how few were granted that chance. "Then you know how they would treat those who leave their heathen order. The Arishok would doom this poor creature." She seemed to consider something for a moment. "But perhaps this is advantageous. They must respect you, at least to some degree, if you were allowed to speak with them, the Arishok specifically. Surely they would not attack one whom they were previously civil with, should it come to that. It would only confirm their barbarism."
To say Sophia was torn would be an understatement. After finally wrapping her head around the situation, the gravity of it became extremely clear to her. This situation was only made more dangerous with her involvement, and yet now that she saw this mage... could she really walk away? The revelation that Lucien had dealt with the Qunari seemed insignificant to her at the moment, though she would likely want to ask him about it at some point. Right now, there was a decision to be made. Aurora seemed adamant on Ketojan's freedom, for whatever reasons she may have had. Lucien acted as the voice of reason as always, and his point hit home with her. The last thing she wanted was for this to fall back on her father. She wanted to help him, not undermine him. And yet... she knew what he would do in this situation. He would return the mage to his people without a second thought, appease them, give them what they wanted. Sophia had sought to better understand their culture, as her brother had suggested, but this... that they would do this to their own people sickened her.
"Is this truly something that Chantry resources cannot perform?" she inquired quietly. She needed more information. "The Chantry will soon realize the Qunari presence is more than a test of faith... it is an open challenge," Petrice explained, "But for now, I must act on my own. Can we simply ignore their heresy by allowing such an injustice to continue? The one who allows an evil act to occur is as wicked as the one who performs it, I say." It was exactly what Sophia hadn't wanted to hear, and exactly what she'd expected. This was going against the will of her father, and against the will of Chantry leadership. But the sister's words... the Qunari did not seem to be making urgent attempts to remove themselves from the city, in fact, what they were doing could easily be called militarization. They had already built themselves a fortified position within the Docks, unleashed deserters in the form of bandits upon the city's travelers. They did not negotiate with her father. As much as she hated to admit it, the city would be a significantly less troubled place if they left. And while this act would not make them leave by itself, it was a start. Differences in culture she could understand, but this... brutality, this senseless pain they inflicted on their own, she could not abide by.
"I'll do it," she said, steeling herself. "I cannot leave him to this kind of suffering. You have a plan, I'm assuming?" Petrice nodded. "Yes. The passage here," she gestured to a trap door in the back room, "leads into the warrens of the Undercity, a route that leads beyond the walls of the city. It is dangerous, but I trust in your abilities, Sophia. Thank you for doing the right thing here. I wish you the best of luck."
That left the matter of her companions, and Sophia turned to face them. Aurora she was quite certain would join her, and though Sophia was entirely certain how much help she would be, if the girl wanted to assist, she would not deny her the opportunity. Lucien, however, she could tell was much more apprehensive. She had no desire to drag him into something like this... but she also knew his help would likely prove invaluable. "I'm not sure about any of this," she admitted, "but I can't just walk away."