Dorian powerwalked through stone-paved streets that showed off the majestic architecture of a bygone era, some of it in ruins. Weaving his way through the acceptable mismatch splendor where the paths eventually dipped into the shadier areas of Docktown.

  Along with his friend, Maevaris, he ran the Lucerni with the aim to reform Tevinter for the better. He had established a contact base for the group within the less populated ports. This base was known to all as a drinking hole for the local sailor and unsavory sort. However, the workers and tavern guards were servants loyal to him. Former slaves and commoners he had saved during his time in the Inquisition. Under his care, they had a life free from the shackles of slavery and poverty.

  He nodded his greeting to the surly and stocky dwarven bartender as he made his way past the tavern's bar for the backrooms.

  "Magister," Cabot the bartender said with his usual deadpan tones, and he didn't bother to wait for a return greeting as he topped up a customer's mug.

  Dorian descended into the cellar, which was well lit and clean with an image of nothing to hide or untoward. He tapped a sequence on the far-end barrels and applied his magic as he turned the spout of the top one. A shimmering portal patterned with rune arrays appeared on the adjacent backwall, which he walked through. It closed behind him.

  Inside was a pleasant and quaint courtyard garden within an enclosed area of another location. The portal was something Maevaris had spent a good deal of her life to establish with her late dwarven husband. It became a beneficial aspect of their newly formed party, allowing members to meet in secret.

  "Dorian, trouble?" She appeared from another portal with calm steps.

  Her slender form in modest mage robes of royal sea silk aided her comely beauty of shrewd green eyes, delicate features of pale skin and simple stylish dark brown hair in a long ponytail. Anyone who knew her would know that the delicacy of her beauty didn't match the strength of her mind and her ability to be a magister among a pack of piranhas. According to Dorian, she was an alpha piranha with the most deadly teeth to rip her enemies to shreds and be forgotten.

  "It's Anri. He's been asked to track the location of missing people in Hasmal. I fear the missing people are because of Magister Kalias. I swear that fool is going to give me a bloody heart attack." Dorian fretted.

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  Maevaris sighed. She had known Dorian since his days as the flamboyant party goer bedding handsome lords. However, when he returned to assume his father's seat on the Magisterium, he was a man of profound maturity and focus, becoming a huge asset for the Lucerni and their aims of reforming Tevinter for the better. The current source of his pending heart attack was the very pillar of his strength and resolve.

  "Ha, didn't I say the same about you when you ran off to the South like a kicked puppy."

  "That was different."

  "Indeed."

  Dorian faced her with genuine worry for his lover. "He's no longer the Inquisitor nor the man who can seal rifts. Anri is back to being like everyone else. I'm worried that he forgets this, because his enemies surely won't."

  She nodded understanding the dilemma.

  Anri began as an outcast commoner who had to suddenly rise to a hero's calling to save the world. And the man had done so admirably, far beyond people's expections and assumptions. No one had expected for a Dalish elf to be so observant, cunning and ruthless where it mattered, running the Inquisition like a well-oiled machine with undivided loyalty through his benevolent and firm actions. It was only natural for a man whom even the Empress of Orlais revered for years, struggle with the fact that he was no longer relevant.

  "What do you intend to do about it?" She calmly asked as she watched her usually witty friend pace the gardens with his thoughts.

  "I've already sent word to my agents near Tantervale to investigate and track Anri's movements."

  Maevaris decided to take a step back and ask her burning question. "Doesn't Anri live in Kirkwall? What is he doing in Hasmal?"

  Dorian stopped his pacing and let out a long sigh. "He was traveling to see me. Anri said he missed my touch."

  "Ah the fervor of love that makes men think they're indestructible."

  "Of course, it's so selfish for lovers wanting to hold each other again." He flippantly scoffed.

  "Such gloating." She chuckled and stood more upright with her hands clasped at her back. "I understand. It's likely that prick of a blood monster is at the heart of Anri's problem. So we need to handle this for him."

  "Agreed. This may tie in favor with our order's business."

  "Oh absolutely."

  The remainder of their conversation was spent on strategy and plans to help Anri's problem, which would also benefit their resistance.