[Trespasser] Have a look around.

The Council can wait. You'll spend plenty of time there once the talks get underway. For now, you merely sit back and relax as your caravan continues its parade through the Winter Palace.

The streets of Halamshiral are packed with people hoping to witness your arrival. As you pass, you notice several women dropping their robes to flash you their perky breasts. Even a few of the local Chantry sisters appear to be joining in the fun.

"Good to know the people are still behind us," Cullen remarks, riding alongside your carriage.

"Well, we did save the world..." Josie mutters through a fake smile as she waves to the crowd.

Following your ambassador’s lead, you offer the crowd a few dignified waves with one hand while your marked hand rests comfortably atop your pet Calpernia's gradually bobbing head.

Even two years in, you're still impressed by how well the former mage has taken to her new life as your cocksleeve. While much of her mind was lost during your magical duel with Corypheus, an unfortunate side effect of having her lips around the ugly bastard’s prick when he exploded, she thankfully retained her extensive knowledge of the carnal arts.

Before you can serve the mage her second helping of breakfast, your caravan slows to a halt in front of the palace gates. A handful of elven servants emerge, a few helping your advisors from their horses while the rest struggle to lift your lazy ass out of your carriage.

Feet planted firmly on the ground, you give a quick yawn and stretch after hours of traveling in such tight, cramped quarters. With a measured tug upon your pet's leash, you beckon her down after you before one of the elf servants approaches, holding his hand out like he expects a tip.

"Uh, sorry," you smirk, patting where your pockets might be if you bothered to wear trousers.

Trudging the stone staircases, you're reminded of your last visit to the palace. It seems like just yesterday Empress Celene herself was waiting at the top of these steps to receive you. Perhaps as living proof of your fallen status amongst the nobility, you now find yourself being greeted by a short, balding man outfitted in the standard palace garb and a slightly ill-fitting mask.

"Inquisitor," he bows formally. "Allow me to be the first to welcome you to the Winter Palace."

You disregard the man's greeting altogether, immediately signaling for your chief diplomat.

"His Worship was expecting a greeting more befitting of his accomplishments," Josephine says quickly stepping forward to speak on your behalf. “You received our list of prerequisites ahead of the Inquisitor's visit, did you not?"

"We did..." the steward nods sheepishly. "But given the delicate nature of the talks, we felt-"

Josephine loudly clears her throat, cutting the man off before somehow producing a thick scroll from her skintight clothing. Letting the parchment unfurl to the ground, she begins to read off.

“The Inquisitor, His Hungness, Herald of Andraste, Sealer of the Breach, Savior of Thedas and all its miserable inhabitants shall only be welcomed by Empress Celene, preferably in the nude with her royal bush shaved in the shape of the Inquisition's sigil. The royal handmaidens shall also be present, also in the nude, each holding a tray of freshly-baked butter tarts..."

For the next several minutes, Josephine reads off more of your exorbitant demands, including replacing all the water in the palace fountain with cheese fondue, a personal suite for each of your battle nugs, and a year's supply of mustache wax for Dorian.

"Surely, this is some kind of jest..." the steward interrupts, finally reaching his wit's end.

"Do I look as though I'm jesting?" the Antivian glares daggers at the timid gentleman.

"N-no, ma'am..." he flinches, noticing Calpernia growling and bearing her teeth at him.

"Now look what you've done, you made me lose my place." Josie gripes, flicking her wrists to make the whole parchment rustle. "I suppose I'll just have to start from the beginning then..."

Taking that as your cue to leave, you let your diplomat sort out the accommodations while you explore the palace. You've already given Josie her orders, which mostly consisted of bolstering support among the nobles. Or as you artfully explained it in the carriage "sucking the pants off anyone who looks important." Cullen, on the other hand, still needs a job for the afternoon.

"Cullen," you say, turning to your loyal commander. "Can you take Calpernia for her walk?"

"I...uh...certainly, Inquisitor." he stammers as you hand over the pet's leash. The very moment Cullen grabs hold Calpernia sprints ahead on all fours, sending the commander stumbling after her as he struggles to keep pace with the energetic mage.

Now free to roam on your own, you enter the bustling courtyard. Scanning your surroundings, you're already spotting some familiar faces.

Near the fountain, Varric looks to be chatting with one of his Kirkwall associates but the person who catches your eye is the tall, red-haired woman standing guard just behind him. Something about her, the sword and shield, leads you to believe you've seen this woman before.

To their right, Dorian is nude sunbathing in one of the reclining couches as Vivienne, flanked on either side by members of her mage entourage, casually struts by him on her way to the spa.

Past them, you see Leliana and Charter leaning over the railing, their backs to you but you'd recognize your spymaster's shapely ass anywhere and Charter is usually always by her side.

In the distance, the familiar sound of the Bull's Chargers off-key singing gives you a decent idea on which direction the makeshift tavern is located if you find yourself craving a tankard of ale.

While you look forward to catching up with all your companions, there's a certain person you promised to meet first. A certain person who's become the most powerful woman in Thedas.