[center][i]Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,
I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm.
I shall endure.
What you have created, no one can tear asunder.[/i]
-[b]Trials 1:10[/b][/center]

In Orlais you could never go far enough to escape the influence of the Chantry. In Val Royeaux the two towers of the Grand Cathedral dominate the skyline for miles and throughout the countryside smaller chapels dot the landscape. It was said that you were never too far from the Maker's grace a fact that Orlesian's take much pride in for it was Kordillus Drakon I of Orlais that founded the Chantry, and not some other backwater nation. The Chantry's close connection with the royalty promotes close connections between the aristocratic class and their reverence to the holy faith. This another facet of The Game in which those who donate the most coin out of pocket in donations get things done for them easier. It was because of this fact that Freyan was most acquainted with the Chantry.  

One could have almost called Freyan devote in his beliefs as such things come easier when you raised among the heart of it. He remembered the times as a young boy that his family would travel to the Grand Cathedral to hear the words of the Grand Cleric or maybe even if they were lucky the Divine. The Cathedral was an astonishing sight to a young mind: glided white walls stretching into the sky, the Chant of Light almost emitting from deep within the building, the opulent banners and the hundreds of people. But the memories he held the most were of Sister Aurore telling him and the other children about Andraste's campaign against the Tevinter Imperium. It was in these stories of heroics and great battle that one could trace the young man's own desires to become a hero.

But Orlais seemed ages away from the City of Chains. Since he had arrived in Kirkwall after his contract with the Margrave of Ansburg had ended his hands had been rather busy. Through the steady march of the years he had gotten used to the switching of cities and the life of a vagabond always looking for work but it was always hard: making a name for one's self, finding a place to stay, finding work. In the beginning it was always hard. When you were busy killing raiders, catching thieves, and rescuing children who fell down wells you had little time to pray to the Maker and thank him for your good fate. In his disillusionment with the Chevaliers he had begun to doubt most of the things of his childhood and even at times his faith in the Maker. For if the Maker was real why would he let all the terrible things he had seen? In short finding him watching the anointing of a new Chantry was the last place you'd expect to see him.

Yet sometimes the melodic calling of coins falling within a purse was too much. He would like to say that it was a job and nothing else. He would like to say that only because the Viscount was hiring out extra muscle that he was there. He would like to say that the money was too good to turn down, which it was. But somewhere deep inside of him he had a sort of morbid curiosity about the whole event. The Kirkwall Chantry had a... troubled history to say the least and Divine Victoria new choice of Grand Cleric would not help the matter. The Viscont knew this and which is why he also hired a few mercenaries as well as the City Guard just to add another layer of protection. Freyan could not blame him as it was never bad to be prepared for violence. Judging from the mixture of reverent faces and hateful slurs Hightown was primed to explode.

So Freyan stood near the announcement dais just far enough away to not draw attention but close enough to leap into the fray to Protect the Grand Cleric if it came to that. To say that he stood out would be a bit of an understatement covered in full Chevalier's plate that shined when the sun hit it correctly. He had what one might call an intimidating figure with his sharp eyes focused with concentration. Some might of knew him as the ex- Chevalier had begun to make a name for himself as the man you want too when you needed your problems resolved. But if they did recognize him they did little to acknowledge him and Freyan almost preferred it that way. His own mind was going over several different worst case scenarios as sweat beacme to trickle down his forehead; Maker's Breath it was hot and the heavy plate was not doing him any favors in that department, but he did little to show any signs of discomfort. Though he did wish for the ceremony to begin just so that it could end.