(no subject)

[cullen_fadewalk]

Private post
I stood far too long in the shadow of the tavern, listening. Like some tragic heroine in one of Varric's novels, torn between going inside and pretending I'm the man I used to be, or accepting who I've become.

It all seems so surreal, that they can be so...bright. Laughing. They were laughing in there. Gallows humor, perhaps, or the mania at the end of the world. I've seen it before, and I've seen those manic forces gutter and burn out.

I can't let that happen. I have to, to prepare, to fortify, to defend, to-- To do something to keep steadily moving forward. Whether it's helping to solve the mystery or making sure we are equipped to face whatever might come, I have to keep busy. I have to keep my mind busy.

I also have to maintain control of the arms and armor.

Because standing there, listening to them in that tavern, I couldn't help but think...we don't know each other. We don't know what any of us is capable of. We don't know that trust and laughter and companionship won't be rewarded by a flick of a knife and a bloody smile. And I don't want to be the person who thinks that way, but I can't not. I've seen it too many times to trust.


Public post
My name is Cullen, and I am the commander of the Inquisition's armies and Skyhold. I've taken inventory of the armory, the smithy, and the requisitions office and gathered all weapons and armor--including enchanted items. If you require weaponry, please see me.