[The only answer Myr gets, for several moments, is the audible thump of Vandelin flinging himself dramatically onto the nearest thing he can sit on. For Myr's sake, he omits his usual blasphemous oath about Andraste's private parts and their state of conflagration. It sounds like he's had a hard enough time of it already, and irreverent jokes about anything Andraste-related going up in flames would be rather more tasteless than usual under the circumstances.]

Oh, boy.

[He exhales, very slowly. For all he likes to be in tune with the politics of a group, the connections everyone has--he's still too new here to have anywhere near the expertise he pretends to, and he's not making the headway he thought he would besides. He doesn't know how to answer that. And Myr does deserve a truthful answer.]

I can't speak for the entire Inquisition. But among the mages... [He rubs at the bridge of his nose.] I think you're going to be an outlier.

I've only met him the once, myself. And I didn't know it was him until long after the fact. He's got a clinic-- [Perhaps it's best not to say where.] He fixed a bad head injury I had without asking a thing, and it wasn't just mages he was treating. He gives reading lessons to anyone who asks, free of charge. I don't know if he does it all under his own name or not. Some of it, it looks like he does.

I can't tell you what people think about what he did to the Chantry. I don't know. I'm only telling you what I know about his work for the Inquisition.