"Come and see the violence inherent to the system! Help, help! I'm being repressed!" (a mysterious court jester, who resembles a cross between Cyrano de Bergerac and Pinocchio...)

Did Azriel need to go to the market himself? No, he could have simply asked a servant to fetch the things needed. But that wasn't really his way, and besides. He felt a need to stretch his legs, get out of the estate where he'd been dealing with one headache after another all week. Thank the Maker his afternoon was free.

One of his daughters had begged to come with, so after letting his wife know they would be gone for an hour or two, the pair headed out. As they were conspiring on what sweets to bring home for a surprise treat for the family, he heard a man call out.

Random starter: Asher

The rain continued to fall as the Inquisitor watched his newly recruited Templars march away from Therinfal Redoubt. Looking back to the battlements, he couldn't help the feeling of genuine anger bubbling in his chest: this fortress had once been home to his Order, now it was in disarray, recently freed from the control of a demon, and the templars had willingly allowed themselves to be corrupted. Maker only knew what would've happened if he hadn't chosen to seek their assistance with the Breach.