"I hope so as well. He might present an interesting challenge when he returns."

"Mm. We still have some daylight left. The Chantry or the Viscount's Keep?"

"Chantry, how about?"

"All right." She smiles for no particular reason. "Let's go see what these people worship."

She laughs. "Lead the way."

The Kirkwall Chantry is in Hightown, one of the grander buildings there. Outside is the Chanter's Board, where the Chantry posts worthy requests for help. A sister stands by the board, reciting the Chant of Light, the story of Andraste's struggle against the Tevinter Imperium of old, in a voice that's a cross between a speech and a song.

She reads over the board, somewhat idly.

Someone needs help moving, a soup kitchen needs volunteers, donations for the orphanage, a bounty on a group of mercenaries by someone calling himself Prince of Starkhaven...

Boring, boring, boring, maybe interesting if she gets bored and it's too early for their reign of terror.

Inside, the walls are decorated with frescoes depicting scenes from Andraste's life: childhood in a fishing village, marriage to Maferath, leading the first Exalted March, alliance with the elf Shartan, Maferath's betrayal and her execution at the hands of Archon Hessarian. The main nave is dominated by a statue of the woman herself, and another cleric is singing a different portion of the Chant of Light in front of it.

Is it obvious where to go with questions about the religion?

There are a couple small groups of sisters standing around who don't seem to be doing anything important.

"Excuse me, sisters," she says, striding up to them.

"Yes, child? How may we help you?"

"I was quite curious about Andraste's teachings, sister."

"Our doors are always open to those who would listen. 'Speak only the Word, sing only the Chant. Then the Golden City is thine.'"

"I am here to listen, then."

"Sister Nathalie is beginning the Canticle of Transfigurations, where Andraste's wisdom is preserved," she says, indicating the woman singing at the foot of the statue.

She hums briefly, and turns to listen.

"These truths the Maker has revealed to me:
As there is but one world,
One life, one death, there is
But one god, and He is our Maker.
They are sinners, who have given their love
To false gods.

All men are the Work of our Maker's Hands,
From the lowest slaves
To the highest kings.
Those who bring harm
Without provocation to the least of His children
Are hated and accursed by the Maker.

All things in this world are finite.
What one man gains, another has lost.
Those who steal from their brothers and sisters
Do harm to their livelihood and to their peace of mind.
Our Maker sees this with a heavy heart.

Those who bear false witness
And work to deceive others, know this:
There is but one Truth.
All things are known to our Maker
And He shall judge their lies.

Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.
Foul and corrupt are they
Who have taken His gift
And turned it against His children.
They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones.
They shall find no rest in this world
Or beyond."

A fascinating doctrine.

"Many are those who wander in sin,
Despairing that they are lost forever,
But the one who repents, who has faith
Unshaken by the darkness of the world,
And boasts not, nor gloats
Over the misfortunes of the weak, but takes delight
In the Maker's law and creations, she shall know
The peace of the Maker's benediction.
The Light shall lead her safely
Through the paths of this world, and into the next.

For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water.
As the moth sees light and goes toward flame,
She should see fire and go towards Light.
The Veil holds no uncertainty for her,
And she will know no fear of death, for the Maker
Shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword."

Isn't the flame the destruction of the moth, Hisame would argue...

She is getting so much material for tormenting the faithful with!

The Chant of Light is very long. It will continue in this vein for as long as Hisame is prepared to listen to it.

She gets bored after a few more verses, thanks the sister who'd been talking to her, and wanders off to elsewhere. What's public, or at least tantalizingly non-public?