It seemed a little ridiculous that they were going off of the evidence provided by a drunk, terrified guardsman who had only been paid to look the other way, but somehow Sophia had known that she would end up here, in the Chantry. She'd learned that many members of her faith were not perfect, and that some of them even harbored selfish desires or corrupt influences, but never had she thought it would go up as high as the grand cleric. Elthina was... well, she would never say the woman was a mother to her, but she came about as close as was possible. No other person had guided Sophia's growth into adulthood as much as she had. The idea that she might actually be behind these fanatics was troubling. Sophia hated doubt. It was about as difficult to make go away as the Qunari were.
As she entered the main hall with the others behind her, Sophia reminded herself that they were here to speak to Elthina about the missing Qunari, not outright accuse her of ordering them kidnapped. Her frustration was threatening to get the better of her, but she would have to choose words carefully here. She wasn't interested in damaging her relationships here if the evidence was proven wrong, which she was hopeful that it would. She approached the first kneeling sister they came across, who rose to greet them with a short bow.
"Sister," Sophia said, bowing herself slightly. "I need to speak with the Grand Cleric. Can you summon her for me? It concerns the Qunari." The sister gave a slight oh, before heading off, up the stairs and out of sight, leaving the five of them temporarily alone while they waited.
The unease was coming off Sophia in waves, really, and Nostariel was growing just as uncomfortable with it. The problem was, this was, in a way, what sheâd wanted the other woman to do when theyâd first metâquestion the things which she held most dearly. All the same, watching her doubt now, this way⊠that wasnât what sheâd wanted, and she sincerely hoped that nobody wanted that for the noblewoman. She was a good person; stubborn in some ways, yes, but then so were they all, and so it was the Warden who ironically found herself seeking to bolster Sophiaâs confidence. Stepping up to the other womanâs side, Nostariel reached up to lay a hand on her shoulder. âI donât know the Grand Cleric very well,â she offered quietly, âBut even I believe thereâs another explanation for this. Do not despair just yetâweâll get to the bottom of things.â The elf smiled, dropping her hand to her side again and falling silent.
Much to the disappointment (or perhaps it should have been relief) of Sophia it was not Grand Cleric Elthina that at last arrived to speak with them, but a different familiar face, one that Sophia had not looked forward to speaking with again. Sister Petrice was garbed in Chantry robes as they had seen her before in Lowtown, but if Sophia was any judge, the years in between had been... somewhat harsh on her. She looked somewhat thinner, the stress beginning to show on her face. Sophia wondered how different she had looked then. So much had happened in that time interval.
"Lady Sophia," Petrice greeted, taking note of those that accompanied the Viscount's daughter and choosing to stand a good fifteen feet or more away from them. "Sister Petrice..." Sophia returned evenly, very much aware in this moment of what this woman before her had tried to do, and what Sophia should have done in the aftermath of that. Hindsight would do her little good now, though.
"Mother Petrice, actually. Time has changed all of us." Sophia took a few wandering steps towards the Mother, and to her credit, she did not back down. "Grand Cleric Elthina is unavailable for an audience at the moment, but I am authorized to speak on her behalf. What is it you want?" Sophia was tempted to roll her eyes. She should have just walked in and found her, spoken with Elthina and gotten to the bottom of this. Instead she was left to speak with Petrice of all people.
"Mother Petrice?" Aurora asked skeptically. She was surprised they let snakes get that high. Still, it explained where the the Grand Cleric's seal came from and answered a lot of other questions in the process. Aurora rubbed her face harshly, clearly displeased with how things were falling into place. Had she met the woman some years earlier, she would have went directly to the throat. Fortunately for the Mother time had indeed changed them all, with Aurora learning discipline along with all that combat. "Where are the Qunari-- and save the righteousness for someone who will listen," She said solidly. The last thing she wanted was this woman preaching at her. Sophia was not the only one who understood what the woman had attempted.
Petrice actually seemed not to recognize Aurora at first, but after studying the woman a little, the spark of recognition flickered in her eyes. Aurora would have been a body of lesser importance at the scene of the ambush years before, but just as dead, certainly. She breathed out through the nose at Aurora's directness. "I feel I should explain. I was naive when last we met. I did not want you dead, any of you," she gestured to Sophia, Lucien, and Aurora, "but I felt a death was necessary. You were simply the ones who came along. I... apologize if that is too fine a point for you to understand."
Sophia could have struck her, but it seemed the robe she wore would protect her from that. How this foul, wicked woman had come to wear them Sophia could not fathom, but this would be done right, or it would not be done at all. "The Grand Cleric's authority has been abused by a Templar, Mother Petrice," Sophia said, attempting to remain civil. Aurora had come right out and asked it, but Petrice was clearly not going to simply divulge something like that, if she were as involved in this incident as she had been in the last. "Either an order was not understood correctly, or someone within the Chantry is taking matters regarding the Qunari into their own hands."
"I assure you," Petrice responded, continuing to play her own game, "the Templars would never embarrass the Chantry, at risk of the Knight-Commander's wrath." Sophia was growing very tired of this. "Petrice... we know you're involved in this. I would like to know if Her Grace is aware as well." She feared the answer to this question, but even though Petrice did not outright answer it, her words put Sophia slightly more at ease.
"The Grand Cleric trusts her stewards to enact the wishes of the Maker," she said, holding Sophia's currently icy gaze.
âTranslation: no, she is not,â Lucien said, more for the need to say it out loud than because he thought anyone here would have failed to grasp the point. He wasnât much for talk of necessary deaths and sacrifice, and the point was not too fine for him to understand, but wrong either way. Be it their deaths specifically or deaths in general, what this woman had been attempting to do was simply inexcusable. He crossed his arms over his armored chest. Though he did not feel so keenly as a few of the others a temptation to go for his own weaponsâmore death would not make this right, eitherâhe still allowed an undertone of anger to seep into his voice, the edge of it keen but almost below notice.
Strangely, Amalia seemed most willing to engage Petrice on her own level. âAnd provoking with human deaths did not work as planned, so perhaps such elements of the faithful think to provoke with Qunari deaths instead. It is not a bad plan, if what is desired is violence.â The Qunari canted her head to one side, touching her lower lip with two fingers in a gesture of contemplation. âSuppose that some conspirator in this plan had sudden reason to be concerned that her part in a plot her superiors would condemn could very easily come to light. Were she confronted with this matter, what do you suppose she would say regarding the location of this Qunari delegation?â If there was one thing Amalia could do, it was speak double, communicate without actually confirming anything, and this foul basra vashedan seemed inclined to keep at it regardless of how directly she was confronted.
"Stubborn," Petrice muttered under her breath. "Allow me to offer you something, then. The Templar you all seek is a radical who has grown... unreliable. Confronting him may do us all a favor." Sophia crossed her arms, not glad to have this woman dictating the rules of the game they were playing, but they had little choice. With her lay the information, so it was her they would need to follow. "And this Templar is?"
"My former bodyguard, Ser Varnell. Assume what you wish, but I offer him to you as... reconciliation." Sophia vaguely remembered Varnell, the brutish looking man who had silently accompanied Petrice as she went about her business last time. Apprehending him would be a good start, but it would take quite a bit more than that for Petrice to be reconciled, in Sophia's eyes. "Meet me at this address in Darktown in two hours," she said, scribbling down the location and handing it to Sophia. "I invite you all. Come see the unrest the Qunari have inspired." With that she took her leave, disappearing back up the steps and into the private areas of the Chantry.
Aurora stared daggers into Petrice's back as she took her leave, and only once she was sure the woman was gone she spoke. "Idiot. They're the ones inspiring the unrest. Does she really believe that provoking the Qunari will end well?" she said. Still, she had no sway in the Chantry nor the city. The only thing she could do is watch the storm brew on the horizon. She then shook her head and continued, "Are we even sure this meeting isn't another set up? Mother or not, I don't trust her," She asked. The last time they met the woman elsewhere-- well, they all knew how that ended up. Aurora did not want to walk down this road another time.
Nostariel shook her head, dislodging a few blonde hairs which she subsequently had to tuck back into place. âAt this point? Itâs probably too late anyway. A trap it may be, but do we have any choice but springing it? The Arishok will not take kindly to our leaving this be now.â Frankly, she didnât really want to, either. So much was at stake, though honestly if Petrice was inviting them to this event, she probably assumed that things were going to work in her favor no matter what they did. Nostariel chewed at her lip and sighed. All the machinations were a bit too complicated for her taste. She wasnât stupid, but sheâd never learned all this double-talk and scheming, and it didnât really make sense to her that anyone wanted the Qunari to retaliate against Kirkwall.
âThe Warden is correct, on all counts,â Amalia put in, her customary frown firmly in place over her features. She stared at the staircase Petrice had climbed with a look of vague irritation, but it morphed quickly into nonchalance. âShe is a fool if she believes that this will save her life. The Qun will demand her death sooner or later.â It may well demand that Amalia be the one to deliver it, but this much, she kept to herself. She probably shouldnât have said as much as she had, but some part of her did not want these people to be unprepared for what must come. Locking eyes with each of the others in turn, she spun on her heel and made to exit the Chantry. There was no point in lingering any longer, and being a bit early to this⊠exhibition of idiocy was not going to hurt.
As much as Sophia didn't want another all night adventure, it seemed to be shaping up that way. They headed straight for Darktown and the address they were given, taking far less than two hours to get there. Really, there didn't seem to be any point in waiting for Petrice's specific time. They didn't need to play into her game any more than was necessary, after all. The thought that Petrice expected that crossed her mind, but Sophia decided it simply wasn't worth the effort to think about. What they were going to walk into was likely not going to change, regardless of what they tried. They'd just have to make the best of it, as they always did.
No one accosted them on their way to Darktown, nor in Darktown itself, though the Viscount's daughter could always feel the eyes down that low. Especially at night, the criminals and the murderers and the scum that wanted to avoid the reach of the city guard came out in great droves, and it took a party as fearsome as their own to keep them at bay. The address was an unmarked door into what was no doubt a lovely interior, and they found no Mother Petrice awaiting them on the outside, which was undoubtedly wise for her own safety. Sophia would have been concerned for how the Mother was going to get here without being accosted as it had occurred in Lowtown before, but frankly she was having trouble caring all that much.
Rather quickly they decided not to bother waiting for Petrice, and entered through the doorway on their own, passing into a dimly lit tunnel. "Lovely place for a meeting," Sophia commented with no humor whatsoever. As they moved further in, the sound of a single loud voice reached her ears, occasionally punctuated by quite a few voices cheering. Perhaps they weren't too late after all.
What they came upon was a crowd of individuals, all of them armed and almost none of them armored, watching a brawny Templar on a raised platform. Varnell stood with blade and shield in hand before four Qunari warriors tied to posts behind him, their hands bound behind their backs. Only four? Sophia feared for what had already happened to the rest, surely there had not been just four. "Like any beast," Varnell was saying to the crowd, "remove the fangs and it is lost. They are weak before the faithful of the Maker. The only certainty in their precious Qun is death before the righteous." He smacked one in the gut, the Qunari grimacing only slightly before setting his face back to stone, glaring coldly down at the Templar. There were enough other Templars and armed men around to cut the throats of these four in an instant if this wasn't handled properly, but Sophia wasn't exactly sure how that was possible at the moment.
The moment they came upon the door and the Chantry woman was not present, Amalia drew one of the knives at her back, holding it steadily in her left hand even as she flickered for a moment, then disappeared from view. She had no intention to play by anyone elseâs rules, to borrow a metaphor from people more causal about such matters than she. Her task, her duty, was to retrieve these warriors, as many of them as possible alive and in one piece. It was this alone that prevented her from assassinating the Templar who stood there in his vainglory and demeaned her people, demeaned these brothers of the Qun. She may entertain her doubts, but not about this. This was unforgivable, and she did not intend to forgive it.
She had learned patience, however, and she would wait for the right moment to move. Most of these people were simple civilians, probably no good at using those weapons in their hands, but Templars were trained warriors, and she knew the first thing they would do if they were provoked was turn and slit the throats of the Arishokâs delegation. Strafing soundlessly to one side of the room, the Ben-Hassrath awaited the proper moment to move, and was considering the possibility that there would be no proper moment when the woman arrived, striding in behind the others as though she belonged there. Here, in Darktown, among filth and rubble? Amalia could not help but agree.
There was the firm belief in the Maker that Sophia had, and then there was outright zealotry as demonstrated here. Aurora was horrified by what she saw, and her heart gripped her mind tight and beckoned her to say something or to do something. But she was not the same girl that allowed her heart to make rash decisions. Her heart wasn't in control, she was. So she pushed away the horror and shoved it down a pit, taking complete control once again. The momentary wide-eyed gape she had was quickly covered by a placid mask. This would take finesse, not hotheaded reaction, as Amalia had taught her.
As Amalia came to mind, Aurora became acutely aware of Ben-Hassrath flickering from view. It drew nothing but a glance and a nod. It was her role to see that these Qunari we unharmed, and Aurora would see to it that she helped as much as possible. For now, that meant waiting and watching, and not doing something that could jeopardize Qunari lives.
"Ser Varnell!" Mother Petrice said loudly, storming up from behind Sophia, Aurora, Lucien and Nostariel. The Templar she'd called upon turned away from his captives and raised his hands in greeting, somewhat mockingly. Most of his fellow Templars remained very close to the Qunari prisoners, however.
"Take a knee, faithful," Varnell said, "the Chantry blesses us." Petrice seemed mildly affronted by the statement, while Sophia found herself more than mildly disgusted with the entire situation. "You claim a blessing," Petrice said, "when you have used the authority of the Grand Cleric so openly? You have brought wrath down upon you. I'm sure you recognize Lady Sophia, and her most capable of friends." So much for any chance at this being resolved without violence. Petrice had some of the fanatics already drawing weapons, seeing the wrath that had been brought down upon them. If a fight started... there was no way they'd get all the Qunari out alive. There were too many of them to cut through, and the Qunari were bound and unarmed.
"The Qunari have allies, Templar. How will you answer their allegations?" Sophia would not have called herself an ally of the Qunari, not in the slightest. But these people were actively trying to get the entire city burned to the ground. She drew her sword, and it fortunately had the effect of pulling the Templars slightly away from their prisoners.
As she entered the main hall with the others behind her, Sophia reminded herself that they were here to speak to Elthina about the missing Qunari, not outright accuse her of ordering them kidnapped. Her frustration was threatening to get the better of her, but she would have to choose words carefully here. She wasn't interested in damaging her relationships here if the evidence was proven wrong, which she was hopeful that it would. She approached the first kneeling sister they came across, who rose to greet them with a short bow.
"Sister," Sophia said, bowing herself slightly. "I need to speak with the Grand Cleric. Can you summon her for me? It concerns the Qunari." The sister gave a slight oh, before heading off, up the stairs and out of sight, leaving the five of them temporarily alone while they waited.
The unease was coming off Sophia in waves, really, and Nostariel was growing just as uncomfortable with it. The problem was, this was, in a way, what sheâd wanted the other woman to do when theyâd first metâquestion the things which she held most dearly. All the same, watching her doubt now, this way⊠that wasnât what sheâd wanted, and she sincerely hoped that nobody wanted that for the noblewoman. She was a good person; stubborn in some ways, yes, but then so were they all, and so it was the Warden who ironically found herself seeking to bolster Sophiaâs confidence. Stepping up to the other womanâs side, Nostariel reached up to lay a hand on her shoulder. âI donât know the Grand Cleric very well,â she offered quietly, âBut even I believe thereâs another explanation for this. Do not despair just yetâweâll get to the bottom of things.â The elf smiled, dropping her hand to her side again and falling silent.
Much to the disappointment (or perhaps it should have been relief) of Sophia it was not Grand Cleric Elthina that at last arrived to speak with them, but a different familiar face, one that Sophia had not looked forward to speaking with again. Sister Petrice was garbed in Chantry robes as they had seen her before in Lowtown, but if Sophia was any judge, the years in between had been... somewhat harsh on her. She looked somewhat thinner, the stress beginning to show on her face. Sophia wondered how different she had looked then. So much had happened in that time interval.
"Lady Sophia," Petrice greeted, taking note of those that accompanied the Viscount's daughter and choosing to stand a good fifteen feet or more away from them. "Sister Petrice..." Sophia returned evenly, very much aware in this moment of what this woman before her had tried to do, and what Sophia should have done in the aftermath of that. Hindsight would do her little good now, though.
"Mother Petrice, actually. Time has changed all of us." Sophia took a few wandering steps towards the Mother, and to her credit, she did not back down. "Grand Cleric Elthina is unavailable for an audience at the moment, but I am authorized to speak on her behalf. What is it you want?" Sophia was tempted to roll her eyes. She should have just walked in and found her, spoken with Elthina and gotten to the bottom of this. Instead she was left to speak with Petrice of all people.
"Mother Petrice?" Aurora asked skeptically. She was surprised they let snakes get that high. Still, it explained where the the Grand Cleric's seal came from and answered a lot of other questions in the process. Aurora rubbed her face harshly, clearly displeased with how things were falling into place. Had she met the woman some years earlier, she would have went directly to the throat. Fortunately for the Mother time had indeed changed them all, with Aurora learning discipline along with all that combat. "Where are the Qunari-- and save the righteousness for someone who will listen," She said solidly. The last thing she wanted was this woman preaching at her. Sophia was not the only one who understood what the woman had attempted.
Petrice actually seemed not to recognize Aurora at first, but after studying the woman a little, the spark of recognition flickered in her eyes. Aurora would have been a body of lesser importance at the scene of the ambush years before, but just as dead, certainly. She breathed out through the nose at Aurora's directness. "I feel I should explain. I was naive when last we met. I did not want you dead, any of you," she gestured to Sophia, Lucien, and Aurora, "but I felt a death was necessary. You were simply the ones who came along. I... apologize if that is too fine a point for you to understand."
Sophia could have struck her, but it seemed the robe she wore would protect her from that. How this foul, wicked woman had come to wear them Sophia could not fathom, but this would be done right, or it would not be done at all. "The Grand Cleric's authority has been abused by a Templar, Mother Petrice," Sophia said, attempting to remain civil. Aurora had come right out and asked it, but Petrice was clearly not going to simply divulge something like that, if she were as involved in this incident as she had been in the last. "Either an order was not understood correctly, or someone within the Chantry is taking matters regarding the Qunari into their own hands."
"I assure you," Petrice responded, continuing to play her own game, "the Templars would never embarrass the Chantry, at risk of the Knight-Commander's wrath." Sophia was growing very tired of this. "Petrice... we know you're involved in this. I would like to know if Her Grace is aware as well." She feared the answer to this question, but even though Petrice did not outright answer it, her words put Sophia slightly more at ease.
"The Grand Cleric trusts her stewards to enact the wishes of the Maker," she said, holding Sophia's currently icy gaze.
âTranslation: no, she is not,â Lucien said, more for the need to say it out loud than because he thought anyone here would have failed to grasp the point. He wasnât much for talk of necessary deaths and sacrifice, and the point was not too fine for him to understand, but wrong either way. Be it their deaths specifically or deaths in general, what this woman had been attempting to do was simply inexcusable. He crossed his arms over his armored chest. Though he did not feel so keenly as a few of the others a temptation to go for his own weaponsâmore death would not make this right, eitherâhe still allowed an undertone of anger to seep into his voice, the edge of it keen but almost below notice.
Strangely, Amalia seemed most willing to engage Petrice on her own level. âAnd provoking with human deaths did not work as planned, so perhaps such elements of the faithful think to provoke with Qunari deaths instead. It is not a bad plan, if what is desired is violence.â The Qunari canted her head to one side, touching her lower lip with two fingers in a gesture of contemplation. âSuppose that some conspirator in this plan had sudden reason to be concerned that her part in a plot her superiors would condemn could very easily come to light. Were she confronted with this matter, what do you suppose she would say regarding the location of this Qunari delegation?â If there was one thing Amalia could do, it was speak double, communicate without actually confirming anything, and this foul basra vashedan seemed inclined to keep at it regardless of how directly she was confronted.
"Stubborn," Petrice muttered under her breath. "Allow me to offer you something, then. The Templar you all seek is a radical who has grown... unreliable. Confronting him may do us all a favor." Sophia crossed her arms, not glad to have this woman dictating the rules of the game they were playing, but they had little choice. With her lay the information, so it was her they would need to follow. "And this Templar is?"
"My former bodyguard, Ser Varnell. Assume what you wish, but I offer him to you as... reconciliation." Sophia vaguely remembered Varnell, the brutish looking man who had silently accompanied Petrice as she went about her business last time. Apprehending him would be a good start, but it would take quite a bit more than that for Petrice to be reconciled, in Sophia's eyes. "Meet me at this address in Darktown in two hours," she said, scribbling down the location and handing it to Sophia. "I invite you all. Come see the unrest the Qunari have inspired." With that she took her leave, disappearing back up the steps and into the private areas of the Chantry.
Aurora stared daggers into Petrice's back as she took her leave, and only once she was sure the woman was gone she spoke. "Idiot. They're the ones inspiring the unrest. Does she really believe that provoking the Qunari will end well?" she said. Still, she had no sway in the Chantry nor the city. The only thing she could do is watch the storm brew on the horizon. She then shook her head and continued, "Are we even sure this meeting isn't another set up? Mother or not, I don't trust her," She asked. The last time they met the woman elsewhere-- well, they all knew how that ended up. Aurora did not want to walk down this road another time.
Nostariel shook her head, dislodging a few blonde hairs which she subsequently had to tuck back into place. âAt this point? Itâs probably too late anyway. A trap it may be, but do we have any choice but springing it? The Arishok will not take kindly to our leaving this be now.â Frankly, she didnât really want to, either. So much was at stake, though honestly if Petrice was inviting them to this event, she probably assumed that things were going to work in her favor no matter what they did. Nostariel chewed at her lip and sighed. All the machinations were a bit too complicated for her taste. She wasnât stupid, but sheâd never learned all this double-talk and scheming, and it didnât really make sense to her that anyone wanted the Qunari to retaliate against Kirkwall.
âThe Warden is correct, on all counts,â Amalia put in, her customary frown firmly in place over her features. She stared at the staircase Petrice had climbed with a look of vague irritation, but it morphed quickly into nonchalance. âShe is a fool if she believes that this will save her life. The Qun will demand her death sooner or later.â It may well demand that Amalia be the one to deliver it, but this much, she kept to herself. She probably shouldnât have said as much as she had, but some part of her did not want these people to be unprepared for what must come. Locking eyes with each of the others in turn, she spun on her heel and made to exit the Chantry. There was no point in lingering any longer, and being a bit early to this⊠exhibition of idiocy was not going to hurt.
As much as Sophia didn't want another all night adventure, it seemed to be shaping up that way. They headed straight for Darktown and the address they were given, taking far less than two hours to get there. Really, there didn't seem to be any point in waiting for Petrice's specific time. They didn't need to play into her game any more than was necessary, after all. The thought that Petrice expected that crossed her mind, but Sophia decided it simply wasn't worth the effort to think about. What they were going to walk into was likely not going to change, regardless of what they tried. They'd just have to make the best of it, as they always did.
No one accosted them on their way to Darktown, nor in Darktown itself, though the Viscount's daughter could always feel the eyes down that low. Especially at night, the criminals and the murderers and the scum that wanted to avoid the reach of the city guard came out in great droves, and it took a party as fearsome as their own to keep them at bay. The address was an unmarked door into what was no doubt a lovely interior, and they found no Mother Petrice awaiting them on the outside, which was undoubtedly wise for her own safety. Sophia would have been concerned for how the Mother was going to get here without being accosted as it had occurred in Lowtown before, but frankly she was having trouble caring all that much.
Rather quickly they decided not to bother waiting for Petrice, and entered through the doorway on their own, passing into a dimly lit tunnel. "Lovely place for a meeting," Sophia commented with no humor whatsoever. As they moved further in, the sound of a single loud voice reached her ears, occasionally punctuated by quite a few voices cheering. Perhaps they weren't too late after all.
What they came upon was a crowd of individuals, all of them armed and almost none of them armored, watching a brawny Templar on a raised platform. Varnell stood with blade and shield in hand before four Qunari warriors tied to posts behind him, their hands bound behind their backs. Only four? Sophia feared for what had already happened to the rest, surely there had not been just four. "Like any beast," Varnell was saying to the crowd, "remove the fangs and it is lost. They are weak before the faithful of the Maker. The only certainty in their precious Qun is death before the righteous." He smacked one in the gut, the Qunari grimacing only slightly before setting his face back to stone, glaring coldly down at the Templar. There were enough other Templars and armed men around to cut the throats of these four in an instant if this wasn't handled properly, but Sophia wasn't exactly sure how that was possible at the moment.
The moment they came upon the door and the Chantry woman was not present, Amalia drew one of the knives at her back, holding it steadily in her left hand even as she flickered for a moment, then disappeared from view. She had no intention to play by anyone elseâs rules, to borrow a metaphor from people more causal about such matters than she. Her task, her duty, was to retrieve these warriors, as many of them as possible alive and in one piece. It was this alone that prevented her from assassinating the Templar who stood there in his vainglory and demeaned her people, demeaned these brothers of the Qun. She may entertain her doubts, but not about this. This was unforgivable, and she did not intend to forgive it.
She had learned patience, however, and she would wait for the right moment to move. Most of these people were simple civilians, probably no good at using those weapons in their hands, but Templars were trained warriors, and she knew the first thing they would do if they were provoked was turn and slit the throats of the Arishokâs delegation. Strafing soundlessly to one side of the room, the Ben-Hassrath awaited the proper moment to move, and was considering the possibility that there would be no proper moment when the woman arrived, striding in behind the others as though she belonged there. Here, in Darktown, among filth and rubble? Amalia could not help but agree.
There was the firm belief in the Maker that Sophia had, and then there was outright zealotry as demonstrated here. Aurora was horrified by what she saw, and her heart gripped her mind tight and beckoned her to say something or to do something. But she was not the same girl that allowed her heart to make rash decisions. Her heart wasn't in control, she was. So she pushed away the horror and shoved it down a pit, taking complete control once again. The momentary wide-eyed gape she had was quickly covered by a placid mask. This would take finesse, not hotheaded reaction, as Amalia had taught her.
As Amalia came to mind, Aurora became acutely aware of Ben-Hassrath flickering from view. It drew nothing but a glance and a nod. It was her role to see that these Qunari we unharmed, and Aurora would see to it that she helped as much as possible. For now, that meant waiting and watching, and not doing something that could jeopardize Qunari lives.
"Ser Varnell!" Mother Petrice said loudly, storming up from behind Sophia, Aurora, Lucien and Nostariel. The Templar she'd called upon turned away from his captives and raised his hands in greeting, somewhat mockingly. Most of his fellow Templars remained very close to the Qunari prisoners, however.
"Take a knee, faithful," Varnell said, "the Chantry blesses us." Petrice seemed mildly affronted by the statement, while Sophia found herself more than mildly disgusted with the entire situation. "You claim a blessing," Petrice said, "when you have used the authority of the Grand Cleric so openly? You have brought wrath down upon you. I'm sure you recognize Lady Sophia, and her most capable of friends." So much for any chance at this being resolved without violence. Petrice had some of the fanatics already drawing weapons, seeing the wrath that had been brought down upon them. If a fight started... there was no way they'd get all the Qunari out alive. There were too many of them to cut through, and the Qunari were bound and unarmed.
"The Qunari have allies, Templar. How will you answer their allegations?" Sophia would not have called herself an ally of the Qunari, not in the slightest. But these people were actively trying to get the entire city burned to the ground. She drew her sword, and it fortunately had the effect of pulling the Templars slightly away from their prisoners.