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Codex entry: Wager Notes

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Codex text

Notes carried back and forth by runners, covered in different handwriting:

What do you say, gentlemen? Three days before the Inquisition sees sense and aligns itself with Orlais? Properly this time? --M

Nonsense, Marcel, Ferelden is here for blood. A day before they either demand it outright or threaten war on us if they don't get it. --L

The Divine will intercede. She must. Victoria and the Inquisition are too closely connected in everyone's eyes for her not to interfere. --A

You have great confidence in the Chantry, Allain? --M

A thousand royals' worth of confidence from each of you if the Divine settles the fate of the Inquisition. --A

Done! A thousand from each of you once the Inquisition accedes sovereignty to Orlais and the Council of Heralds. --M

You two will beggar me. --L

Leonard! Are you out? --M

Don't be ridiculous. A thousand royals on the Fereldans getting their way after all. --L


Have you seen Ambassador Montilyet trying to cool everyone's tempers after the inquisitor ran out of the Exalted Council? --M

The Gall! (Inquisitor's Last Name) has some nerve. --L

Have you noticed the runners at the Divine's quarters? Everyone is demanding the Most Holy address the affront. --A

If anything, the Inquisitor's actions strengthened Ferelden's position. Arl Teagan is fuming. --L

Lord Cyril won't let him push. This is as good as sealed, my friends. --M

We'll see. --A


If so many royals weren't in jeopardy, Leonard, I'd say we should let the chevaliers throw the Inquisition out of the Winter Palace. --M

We're in accord. Their puffed-up soldiers are everywhere. One challenged me at the gate because the fool confused my house's mask with a family not even invited! Why do they think they are in charge if they can't master even basic courtesies? --L

Disgusting. I caught an Inquisition soldier and a palace guard in a fistfight. --A

What happened? --M

I stopped the fight, of course. We don't need this Exalted Council further out of hand. --A

A terrible thought occurs. What if nothing gets decided? What happens to our wager, gentlemen? --L

Maker forbid! If that comes to pass, we can give the royals to that farm your sister runs for retired chargers, Leonard. At least the old warhorses won't be left out in the cold. --M

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