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Name | Materials | Location |
---|---|---|
Tier 1 Staff Blade | Offense: 2 Cloth Offense: 2 Metal | Redcliffe Schematics Merchant Random drop from Tier 1 chests. |
Tier 1 Staff Grip | Utility: 2 Cloth Offense: 2 Leather | Redcliffe Schematics Merchant Random drop from Tier 1 chests. |
Tier 1 Staff Blade | Offense: 2 Leather Offense: 2 Metal | Random drop from Tier 1 chests. |
Tier 1 Staff Blade | Utility: 2 Metal Offense: 2 Cloth | Redcliffe Schematics Merchant Random drop from Tier 1 chests. |
Tier 1 Staff Grip | Utility: 2 Cloth Offense: 2 Metal | Random drop from Tier 1 chests. |
Tier 1 Staff Grip | Offense: 2 Leather Offense: 2 Metal | Random drop from Tier 1 chests. |
Tier 2 Staff Grip | Offense: 4 Leather Offense: 2 Cloth | Dalish Camp Merchant |
Tier 2 Staff Blade | Utility: 4 Cloth Utility: 2 Cloth | 1. Val Royeaux Schematics Shop 2. War table: A Friend in Qarinus (Cullen, Leliana) after recruiting Dorian |
Tier 2 Staff Grip | Offense: 4 Cloth Offense: 2 Cloth | Val Royeaux Schematics Shop |
Tier 2 Staff Blade | Offense: 4 Metal Utility: 2 Cloth | Mage Schematics Forces Perk at War Table |
Tier 2 Staff Grip | Utility: 5 Cloth Offense: 2 Cloth | Random drop tier 2 chests |
Tier 2 Staff Blade | Offense: 5 Cloth Offense: 2 Cloth | Winter Palace beneath the grand library |
Tier 2 Staff Grip | Offense: 4 Metal Offense: 2 Cloth | Castle Caer Oswin |
Tier 2 Staff Blade | Offense: 4 Metal Offense: 2 Cloth | Dalish Camp Merchant |
Tier 3 Staff Blade | Utility: 6 Metal Utility: 3 Metal | Random drop from tier 3 chests |
Tier 3 Staff Blade | Offense: 6 Cloth Utility: 3 Cloth | Suledin Keep Merchant or Random drop from tier 3 chests |
Tier 3 Staff Blade | Utility: 6 Cloth Utility: 3 Cloth | Suledin Keep Merchant or Random drop from tier 3 chests |
Tier 3 Staff Blade | Offense: 6 Leather Offense: 3 Metal | Random drop from tier 3 chests |
Tier 3 Staff Grip | Offense: 8 Leather Offense: 3 Cloth | Random drop from tier 3 chests |
Tier 3 Staff Grip | Offense: 6 Metal Offense: 3 Leather | Suledin Keep Merchant |
Tier 3 Staff Blade | Offense: 8 Metal Offense: 3 Cloth | Random drop from tier 3 chests |
Tier 3 Staff Grip | Offense: 8 Cloth Offense: 3 Cloth | Val Royeaux Schematics Shop Suledin Keep Merchant with The Short List perk. |
Tier 3 Staff Blade | Utility: 8 Cloth Utility: 3 Cloth | Suledin Keep Merchant with The Short List perk. |
Tier 3 Staff Grip | Offense: 6 Leather Utility: 3 Cloth | Suledin Keep Merchant or Random drop from tier 3 chests |
Tier 3 Staff Grip | Offense: 6 Cloth Offense: 3 Cloth | Random drop from tier 3 chests |
Tier 3 Staff Grip | Utility: 6 Metal Offense: 3 Cloth | Random drop from tier 3 chests |
Tier 3 Staff Blade | Utility: 6 Cloth Offense: 3 Leather | Random drop from tier 3 chests |
Tier 3 Staff Grip | Offense: 6 Leather Utility: 3 Cloth | Random drop from tier 3 chests |
A Friend in Qarinus is a Mission in Dragon Age 3: Inquisition. You can initiate it via the War Table. Power & Time Cost: 0 Power, 240 Min.; Requirements: Dorian must have been recruited.; Notes: 'According to Dorian, while most Tevinter Magisters are not Venatori supporters, they will also not raise a finger to prevent the Venatori from wreaking havoc in the south. Demeter (Ceres) – Greek Goddess of Harvest, Fertility and Agriculture He challenged the hero to a wrestling match but was defeated and killed.
Unacceptable Offers
Age 17 (continued)
..
Malcom watched out the carriage window as they drove through the streets of Qarinus. That morning they had made a show of visiting noteworthy sites in the city: a grand fountain, a grander library, a lovely statue, and a lovelier garden. When they had returned to their hotel for a midday meal, an invitation from Vacurian was already waiting for them. They would dine with him that very evening in his villa, just outside the city.
A cynical thought had come to Malcolm's mind, and El had voiced the same thing. Dorian understood these people all too well. Malcolm was beginning to understand, too.
Malcom had considered Dorian's offer of an apprenticeship more than once before they'd come to Tevinter. Even with all his parents had told him of the Imperium, some small part of him still hoped it wasn't that bad, that Dorian's reforms were gaining real ground. He'd hoped that whatever awfulness was left would be small compared to the promise of studying under such a great teacher.
Malcolm knew now that he had been wrong.
He'd read the words written of the Imperium, Tevinter would crumble without slaves. Now he had seen that reality come alive before his eyes. He had seen the crowd of chained slaves in the harbor when he first arrived. Later, he had started to pick up on the sorts of tunics slaves wore, the collars many bore around their necks. At first he had tried to count them, as if there were some threshold, some number of slaves that was tolerable. He quickly lost count, and admitted to himself that he'd been foolish. If he was honest, it had only taken that first glimpse of slaves by the docks to know there was still too much awfulness left in Tevinter for him to stomach.
Maybe for Dorian, for whom Tevinter was home, each small improvement was a victory. He didn't need to make Tevinter good, just better. But Malcolm had been born and raised among the mud and the dogs of Ferelden. He'd grown up where even the lowliest was a free man, and even the King had once been an orphaned bastard. He'd been taught to treat a mabari like more of a person than many of the magisters treated their slaves.
No, even a good teacher was not worth having to go about his day knowing that those chained and huddled people were the only thing holding the country up around him, but it was more than that.
You can't call me that here.
Fenris's words had twisted in Malcolm's chest like a knife made of ice. They were too cold and raw to only be a reference to the charade of being a lordling and a bodyguard. No, to live in Tevinter would be to deny every day that his father was an elven ex-slave. Malcolm could never do that.
He would see Vacurian, and they would buy, steal, or win his cousin's freedom, and then he would go home.
…
Malcolm resisted the urge to whisper a thank-you to the collared elf who refilled his teacup and kept his attention on Magister Vacurian. He was a large man, and though he may have once been strong, time had softened his bulk. His eyes lacked the sort of calculating sharpness Euclidius had shown, but his smile was equally unsettling.
'You have those pesky wild elves down south, don't you?' Vacurian asked, taking another cookie from the tray held by the slave beside him.
'The Dalish? Oh yes… they're… pesky. They have a fascinating approach to magic, though. It's not an academic process like here in the Imperium, and it's not something restricted and feared like in the old southern circles. They don't study magic, they live it. It is certainly an intriguing perspective.'
Vacurian sneered. 'If by intriguing, you mean primitive.'
'Proper study of magic is certainly more civilized, of course,' Malcolm agreed with a smirk. 'What better way to learn than from the achievements of our betters? Take your grandfather, for example. I've only just begun to scratch the surface of his anthology on magical barriers. The man was a true genius.'
'Young man, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were flattering me,' Vacurian replied with a grin.
'It isn't flattery if it's true, Magister.'
'Well, if you like my grandfather's work, you should read my uncle's treatise on Veil strength fluctuations.'
Malcolm made a show of glancing towards the rest of his family and set down his teacup. 'You know, Magister, I fear all this talk of magic is boring my dear mother and sister. Might the ladies have a walk about your garden while we continue our discussion?'
'Oh, could we?' El asked, voice sweet as honey. 'I just can't get enough of the northern flowers, still in bloom this late in the year.'
Vacurian's face brightened. 'My dear, nothing would make me happier than knowing my gardens brought you joy.' He snapped his fingers and the nearest empty-handed slave rushed to his side. 'My man here will show you the way.'
El flashed Malcolm a smile as she and their mother followed after the slave. Fenris, however, remained behind Malcolm's chair.
A Friend In Qarinus
'I'm afraid I haven't read your uncle's work. Do you happen to have a copy you can show me?' Malcolm asked.
Vacurian beamed. 'Why, of course! Why don't we go to my library and have a look. There is much we could also discuss about future arrangements for your education, Master Riverston.' The magister rose from his chair, tailed by his own guard. They walked down a grand hall lined with paintings of men who vaguely resembled Vacurian and arrived at a set of heavy wooden doors.
Malcolm turned and smiled at Fenris as if asking a friend to do a favor. 'You can wait out here.'
'Your father would want me to stay by your side, ser,' Fenris grumbled.
Malcolm kept his fake smile in place. 'I'm sure my father would understand that it's in poor taste to discuss business with swords looming.' His eyes flashed to the magister's guard, hoping his father would understand.
'As you wish, ser,' Fenris replied, taking a place beside the door.
Vacurian frowned, but turned to his own guard. 'You can keep him company.' The man obediently positioned himself on the opposite side of the doorway. Malcolm silently let out the breath he was holding. His mother and sister would likely take care of the guard.
Sure enough, after half an hour of smiling and nodding as Vacurian showed him manuscripts written by his deceased family members, Malcolm caught sight of his father standing in the doorway.
'Magister…' Malcolm said, interrupting Vacurian's long-winded re-telling of his last meeting with the Archon.
'Yes?'
'I must admit I haven't yet told you my real reason for coming here today.'
Vacurian's face twisted in confusion. 'Your… real…'
'I am actually here to claim one of your slaves awaiting trial, an elven girl named Larina,' Malcolm explained. 'I'd like to take her without incident, but if that is not possible, I already have papers drawn up for a public duel.'
'Who put you up to this?' the magister spat, face turning red. 'Was it that damned Pavus? He pestered me about that wench for weeks.'
Malcolm forced a bitter laugh. 'You don't see, do you? I'm the one who put him up to that. I have a personal interest in the elf girl, and his efforts to take her off your hands were simply an attempt to do me a favor. Apolloone photo video viewer 2 3 0. Unfortunately, you've proven a stubborn fool and I had to come here in person. I will leave with her, one way or another.'
'Who are you to pull this… this act? To make these demands?'
'I may have lied about my intentions, but I didn't lie about my abilities.' A powerful blast of fire flew from Malcolm's hand, winding around Vacurian like a molten snake. The magister's eyes went wide, and though Malcolm was sure not a hair on his head was singed, the heat was enough that he broke into a sweat. With a twitch of Malcolm's fingers, the fire vanished.
'Guards! Guards!' Vacurian shouted.
Instead of a guard, El sauntered into the room, twirling her dagger in her fingers. 'They're not coming, Magister.'
Hawke followed behind her. 'I'm afraid they're all sleeping soundly. We didn't come here to hurt innocent slaves, after all. A magister though… Well, let's just say my blades are eager.'
Vacurian spluttered, struggling to form actual words. 'You can't have her. I… I can't let such a thing be seen. Her actions were insolent. To simply let them go would make me appear so weak, I'd be as good as dead anyway.'
Malcolm drew a coin purse from his pocket. 'Though it pains me to trade in people, I'll pay you fairly for the girl. Her mother will drop the appeal, and I will rescind my declaration of a duel. Then, I will take her back south. You will never see her or hear from her again. Tell your friends you killed her, if that suits you.'
The magister still hesitated.
'We've dipped this in honey and laid it on a silver platter, you fool,' Fenris muttered. 'We only want the girl.'
Vacurian eyed Fenris's sword and wrung his hands. 'Fine. She's yours.'
El slipped behind the magister and gave him a nudge. 'Lead the way.'
They marched back down the hall of portraits and then twisted through the back corridors of the villa. Most of the household slaves were busy in the kitchen and dining room, preparing for a meal that would not be eaten. The handful of slaves they did encounter scurried away at the mere sight of them. After passing rooms of bunks that Malcolm realized must have been the slaves' quarters, they finally arrived at a hallway that ended in three doors. Two were ajar, revealing tiny rooms with only a bucket in the corner.
'Cells,' Fenris spat, 'for punishing slaves.'
'Or keeping them from running away,' Vacurian muttered.
'If you've hurt her…' Hawke threatened.
The magister narrowed his eyes at her. 'The Archon himself supports the new appeal process, and I don't dare risk becoming an example. You will find your prize in perfect health, I assure you.' He pulled a chain with three keys from around his neck and held it out.
El reached for the chain, but Malcolm stopped her.
'There could be traps and spells,' he whispered to her. Instead, Malcolm glared at the magister. 'You open it.'
![Friend Friend](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/zHqVqyGF-FU/maxresdefault.jpg)
Muttering under his breath about dog excrement and Fereldans, Vacurian did as he was told. The door swung aside, and large, shining eyes blinked at them from the dark of the cell. Malcolm summoned a small flare of veilfire to better illuminate the prisoner. He could see clearly now, a young elven woman with blue-green eyes and red hair. Malcolm studied her face, not actually sure what he was looking for. There was something about the angle of her nose that mirrored his father, but otherwise she looked like a stranger. He studied her then as a healer. She seemed well-nourished, her eyes were bright, aware, but she was trembling, and she hadn't yet moved an inch from where she sat on the floor.
'We're here to free you, dear,' Hawke said gently. 'We know your mother, and we know about you. Larina, you can come out.'
The girl shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. 'No, I won't leave him.'
Him?
Malcolm stepped closer and strengthened his veilflame. He could now see that someone was lying on the floor beside her, his head in her lap. Malcolm's stomach twisted. Whoever he was, he wasn't well. Malcolm crept into the cell. 'It's okay,' he whispered when Larina flinched away from him, 'I'm a healer.'
Her eyes brightened. 'Please… Please help him. He…'
A Friend Of Qarinus
He was an elf, a young man, pale and thin. Malcolm set a hand on the elf's forehead and reached out with his magic, trying to find what was wrong. The elf was weak, feverish, and near death. He was wounded somewhere, terribly. Malcolm lifted the threadbare blanket that had been pulled over his shoulders. The young man had been whipped, with new wounds and old obvious on his body. Some of the new wounds bled, and some of the old were infected. Malcolm's first instinct was to pour everything into healing him, but he held himself back. The infected wounds would need to be cleaned before they could be closed. It would be better to heal him slowly, and to do that somewhere, anywhere but the dank cell.
Malcolm healed the elf just enough to ensure he would live through a carriage ride.
'We have to get him out of here,' Malcolm said, scooping up the too-light body. Larina nodded and followed him out of the cell. Wordlessly, Fenris sheathed his sword and took the elf from Malcolm's arms. His whole family could see the state the young man was in, and all eyes turned to the magister.
Vacurian cleared his throat. 'Unlike the girl, he's my slave to do with as I please.'
For the first time in nearly a decade, magic flew almost unbidden from Malcolm's fingers, a rush of ice that threw Vacurian against the wall, burying the magister up to his neck. The ice may not have even stopped there, but El rushed to Malcolm's side. He felt her, the lightest brush of her fingertips against his hand, shaking him from the swirling rage. She didn't need to speak, he could already hear what she would say. He's not worth it. If she had pressed or scolded he would have ended the magister half to spite her, but she was passive, there only to remind him of himself. Maker, she knew him too well.
'The only reason I'm not going to kill you is because I can't stomach the sight of you for another moment,' Malcolm spat. He turned to leave, and his family followed, herding Larina along with them.
As they turned the corner, Malcolm heard Vacurian shout. 'How dare you take my driver! You only paid for the girl!'
It took everything Malcolm had not to storm back down the hall and fill the monster's lungs with ice.
…
A Friend Of Qarinus
…
…
The Hawke family has the girl, but there's a bit more to wrap up with another chapter or two, including some more familiar faces. After that, I have so many plot bunnies – short ones, long ones, cute ones, sad ones. As long as the bunnies keep multiplying, I intend to keep writing. Please let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!