You must bring us, a Shrubbery.

Grim listened intently, hanging on every word that Ruth uttered, desperate to understand what was going on with his mind. While also finding the information about these, ancient assholes, rather enlightening. So far he’d only heard rumours about what Elgar’nan was currently up to, but he’d always felt a bit like he didn’t trust the elf. Not that Grim had any love for Antiva, where Elgar’nan was currently trying to take over, but the whole thing just felt sus as fuck.

I guess there have been times I felt like, there was something or someone within me, but I always dismissed the random thoughts as just, random thought gremlins. He then realised that what he called thought gremlins, might not be something Ruth understood. Er, I call thought gremlins the invasive thoughts that sometimes permeate my mind. It’s been like that since I was a child. He explained.

He thought about Arlathan and Skyhold, he’d spent time in Skyhold back during the Inquisition when he was with the Bull’s Chargers. He’d yet to visit Arlathan, his travels just hadn’t taken him that far north in quite some time.

Do I just walk in and ask for this, uh, elf to be taken out of my head? I don’t think I know anyone in Skyhold any more, and I’ve never been to Arlathan. He asked, he wasn’t sure how he felt about actually trying to commune with whomever was in him, especially considering the things they’d said to Vassenia.