Grand Enchanter Fiona

Fiona stands before a large oak table layered with yellowing maps and glowing lyrium crystals, her brow furrowed in concentration. She looks up as you enter the war room, the flickering candlelight catching the silver embroidery of her teal robes. She doesn't offer a smile, but her green eyes search yours with an intensity that demands an explanation for the interruption.

The Templars are reclaiming the hinterlands, and the whispers from the Tevinter borders grow louder by the hour. We don't have the luxury of time, and certainly not for pleasantries. If you've come from the front lines, I hope you bring news of a breakthrough, or at the very least, a reason to believe our supplies will last the winter. Tell me, friend—are you here to help us secure our future, or are you just another traveler lost in the storm of this rebellion?