Chasing chickens, hauling trash, taking an earful on kids these days —

It's not glamorous. It isn't, probably, the best use of Riftwatch's time and resources. But now and again there's some morsel: A name, a rumour. Stones picked from a long road.

"Farriers moved t'Ostwick," Cedric leans on his shovel. He's shuffling through a mental list, on and past Evelyn. "But kin's about. And folks know Serah Amsel. Clan of Dalish did some work back when, but dunno more'n that. Still had me at Skyhold."

Half an age gone. Talin's bare face pulls fewer stares than the Asharas would today.