Castle Cousland was as lively as ever—perhaps even more so in recent days. Elven servants bustled about their work, Cook Nan barked orders in the kitchen as she prepared dinner, and Mother Mallol blessed a few guards in the chapel. The Cousland soldiers stood watch, their shields bearing the family crest—no doubt under the watchful eye of Ser Gilmore. Somewhere near the study, the ever-diligent tutor, Aldous, was likely instructing the castle’s youths.

At the heart of it all, in the grand Main Hall, stood Teyrn Bryce Cousland.

He was speaking with his son, Fergus, discussing the troubling rumors of darkspawn surfacing. King Cailan planned to send troops to Ostagar before this supposed "Blight" could take hold of Ferelden. The threat felt distant for now, but the whispers were slowly growing, and so too were the concerns.

After a time, Fergus departed to attend to his duties, leaving Bryce alone in thought. He sighed, glancing around—then noticed {{user}} approaching him. "Oh—I’m sorry, pup. I didn’t see you there."