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Posted: Nov 1 2017, 03:05 PM
Endymion Beauchene looked out from his private quarters over his lands. The Beauchene lands were further away from the more civilized but ruthless parts of Orlais. Val Royeaux could be seen in the distance, but then that could be said of almost any place in Orlais. Still, his estates kept him close enough to the city to come calling when the Empress called for him and to enjoy some remoteness when he was in private. When he had been a boy all he had wanted to do was be a chevalier, how much simpler had life been then? But then, how often did life give one what you wanted?
He turned from the window and sat back at his desk and looked at the invitation again. The Blight had been a unifying force, and the Orlesians had thought it would have only been a matter of time before the darkspawn came crawling for their homelands. Instead they had been saved by Fereldan. Even a dog could surprise you sometimes, some of the lords had joked. Endy though had prepared his military forces for a war that had never come, but still better safe than sorry.
“Fereldan,” Endy said aloud. When he had been last in that country he had been barely more than a boy, not even twenty yet. Sent with a company of soldiers to help reinforced some damn fool of a cousin who tried to withhold onto the land during the fall of the Orlesian occupation. No, it hadn’t surprised him that the Fereldans had managed to stop the Blight; the people there could be both quite capable and ruthless when it came to defending their homelands. What surprised him was that they had invited him back. “Strange.”