[Vaprakgruumsh]

A cold wind blew through the night. Navah shivered uncontrollably, her arms wrapped around her body for warmth. The chill that carried on the wind was one that bit through the skin, and made the bones ache with age. “I do not like it here,” Navah muttered between her trembling lips. “This cold… is not a natural cold.”

“They say that the Brecilian Forest is haunted,” Quinn volunteered the information, though no one had asked. He sat with his back against a tree, and set his staff at his side. “They say that the woods are cursed with Werewolves.”

“Werewolves?” Navah looked at Quinn.

“Werewolves,” Quinn answered, smiling beneath the cowl that hid his features on this dark night. “The origin of the Werewolves is unclear, but they’re very real. Some have said that perhaps, some time long ago, Rage Demons once possessed Wolves when the world was far more feral… infecting man with its deadly bite… Some have said that men, who live in the woods, have made deals with demons, to become better hunters, sacrificing their minds to demons, and becoming… one with nature, in the form of a werewolf. But they are real,” Quinn assured her with a smirk, “I have seen them. Not a living one, but a dead one was brought to the Tower of Magi for us to examine… to see if we could discover what had made the werewolf… whether it was animal… or man… or perhaps both… and yet neither.”

“Why would the Templars ever let you do something like that?” Navah asked.

“Naivety,” Quinn said with a wistful sigh, “how I wish I still had it.” From the dark shadows that hung over his eyes, Quinn stared intently at Navah. “The Templars practically begged for us to discover that it had been some person, using magic to unlock this power of becoming a Werewolf. That way they could point their fingers at the Circle of Magi and add one more reason as to why using magic will always result to evil.”

“You think anyone with any religious belief in the Maker is a fool, don’t you Quinn?” Navah shook her head, for a moment, forgetting the cold that made her body tremble so violently. “Templars are driven by their faith. Their need to do things right. To control a spectrum of the world that is chaotic. Templars are one of the most respected forces in all of Thedas.”

“Let me ask you, Navah,” Quinn’s voice was low, barely a whisper above the wind. “Have you ever seen a Templar deprived of lyrium?”

“No,” Navah began. “But I know they use it for their…”

Quinn cut her off, “To hone their magic skills against Mages; more specifically Blood Mages. I know all of that. I am well educated. I don’t need you educating me on the Templars, of all things. I asked if you have ever seen a Templar deprived of lyrium.”

“No,” Navah repeated, without expanding further this time.

Quinn smiled again. “You’re afraid of Blood Mages? You should be afraid of the Templars if we ever run out of lyrium.”

“Where have you seen a Templar who suffers like that?” Navah asked.

“When I became a Grey Warden,” Quinn explained. “Just after I … became a Blood Mage, one of the Templars got it in his head that, despite being a Grey Warden, Blood Mages should not be allowed to exist. He came after me. And was defeated. However, rather than be killed, Riordan wanted me to observe … what happens when a Templar is without lyrium… to which they’re all addicted.”

Quinn seemed to smile at some distant memory. “You’ve not seen a man possessed until you have seen a Templar waned off of lyrium after years of use… or perhaps, even abuse. I have not even heard the screams of a tortured man sound as horrible as the sound that Templar made…” Quinn chuckled to himself. “And yet, the Templars paint themselves so self-righteously. They make sacrifices, just as we do. It’s all for power. Whether you’re a Templar or a Blood Mage; you’re sacrificing your humanity, and perhaps some of your sanity. They’re around to patrol us… but who, dare I ask, is around to patrol the Templars?”

“What happened to the Templar?” Navah asked, her brows furrowed together in concern.

“We didn’t kill him,” Quinn shrugged, “if that’s what you’re worried about. But I think if we had, it would have been the more… merciful thing to do. By the time we had let him go, he was nothing more than a husk of a human. He reminded me very much of the Tranquil that we have within the Circle of Magi. His eyes were vacant. His voice was monotone. He stared off into space, as if he saw something none of the rest of us could. He was devoid of any emotion. We left him on a path to be found, when some other Templars had been patrolling the area. Last I heard he stands guard at the Chantry in Denerim these days.”