The Hasmal travelers watched Anri's approach with high suspicion or curiosity when he passed them on his way to the city's giant portcullis gates, riding his Pride of Arlathan Hart named Mellana.

  The guards were overly cautious and demanding at seeing see such a well-armed and mysteriously looking rogue riding a beast that was a blend of horse and deer. Especially when his head was concealed within an enchanter's hood.

  But when Anri casually held the city seal belonging to their Knight-Commander before them with his only gloved hand, they snapped to attention and admitted him entry.

  "Please inform him of my arrival." Anri formerly instructed the men who bowed with their acknowledgements. One of the guards gave him the directions to the Templar Spire. He continued to make his way into the city.

  Hot, dry winds blowing in from the desolate Silent Plains beyond Hasmal's high walls played with the sides of his dark hood. He pushed it back and breathed in the savory and musky stench carried on the breeze. The sunset cast a pleasant orange-gold glow over the buildings and pavilion tents, lending a mellow feeling.

  He casually weaved his way along cobblestone paths that kept back the sand. And through narrow lanes of modest and weathered stoned buildings highlighted with burgundy hues of embedded paragon luster mineral.

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  As he followed the trail that led to the large spire castle on the city's hill, Anri noticed the city was siloed by smaller neighborhood walls where races kept to themselves. No intermingling whatsoever. It was an odd sight for him to see. He wondered if this was how the Alienages were for elves.

  The people he passed gave him unfriendly glances or averted their gaze to hide their interest. He couldn't help but think he was wandering into a wasp nest. He suspected the Templars were the only other authority capable of keeping order. It made him think about what Varric and Hawke had told him of Kirkwall. He wondered if Hasmal would risk the same fate.

  Rumors and whispers of his arrival traveled through the city but no one dared approach him.

  His trek eventually ended at an open, circular courtyard where he left Mellana to the care of the spirer's stablehands. He hadn't walked up two flights of the main entrance stairs when he was warmly greeted by the templar's leader, Knight-Commander Brycen.

  "Your Worship, it is an honor," said a season veteran of graying short black hair and tanned skin. His clean-shaven cheeks carried trophy scars from harsh battles with blades and magic. The man's small grey eyes held a surety and age. His demeanor and stance reminded Anri of Cullen. The look of a good man in light Templar armor of leather and metal plate over black and red cloth robes.

  Brycen and two helmeted templars in similar but lighter armor walked down to greet Anri.

  "Knight-Commander Brycen, the honor is mine. I'm glad we finally have the chance to meet." Anri accepted the man's firm handshake.

  "Please, allow me to show you around. I'm sure you're tired from your travels."

  "I certainly could do with a hot meal." Anri lightly joked, which had Brycen jovially inviting him to the dining halls for dinner.