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- “Hn. You found me, then. Thought for sure if it was going to happen, it'd have happened years ago. Come to put an end to the Shame's last mistake, have you?” ―The Anchoress
A steep-sided dell, shaded by yew trees. It's dim here, and quiet. The sun barely touches the bottom. A stream splashes over the near rim, down a moss-lined runnel past your feet. The far side is marked with deeper shadows: cave mouths. The rock beside each is carved with arrows, running deer, and the stark mask of Andraste's huntress-aspect.
Her face is a web of weatherworn wrinkles. Her mouth, mostly empty of teeth, chews on one of the tart apples of the woods. She brushes strings of grey hair from her eyes. You've seen those eyes before. On the paintings your grandfather took off the walls in the Whistling Gallery and stacked in the attic. On the icon of Hessarian you just passed in the Sealed Chantry. In the mirror every morning.
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Once you meet The Anchoress...