King Alistair takes an unexpected leave of absence from the royal court, boarding a ship in the gray light of a Fereldan morning.
Oghren gets the news and departs Vigil’s Keep, raising a flagon of his finest ale in honor of the only human who appreciated it.
Zevran risks his tenuous position as Guildmaster of the Crows by leaving Antiva, telling himself that death happens to us all one way or another, but it’s no comfort.
Shale stands there, silent with eyes dimmed, the golem’s face betraying no emotion.
Leliana sings the Dalish song of mourning, her mind recalling the night she sang it in camp a decade earlier, and the soft smile Wynne had given her.
Old companions gather together beneath that ancient tree by the graveside of a dear friend, and each say goodbye to Wynne in their own way.
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