Take Responsibility.

[wordsmithery]

And just like last week, once a given amount of time has passed, the elevator at the southwestern corner of the building opens up; it comes without being called, waiting almost patiently to collect all of you on the second floor before moving back up to the first, and then bringing the whole lot of you further still. Again, the ride is smooth and unjolting; perhaps that's good on one's nerves, perhaps it isn't - either way, it's not going to offer much of a distraction from your purpose. It's noticeable, though, that there's a bit more space in here; only natural, given that there are two less of you this time around. That podium circle still stands in the center of the courtroom, though it's changed to reflect your changes in number; Kyrie and Christo have joined Adelina, as far as their podiums are concerned - the structure itself is draped in black fabrics, their greyed-out portraits watching the proceedings that are set to unfold here. The lectern above remains empty; the Wordsmith's voice, however, carries easily throughout the room, addressing everyone present once they've found their place in the circle and settled a bit. 'Welcome back, Apprentices. Once again someone seeks to end their course of study--and perhaps someone's very existence--through Rule Seven. And again, you will all have a chance to determine who has seen fit to reduce your number for that goal. Hold Practical's murderer accountable, so that they may take responsibility for the actions committed. And remember: if the guilty claims the incentive you all so hated, it may not be only your own lives at stake.' Twenty-seven Apprentices remain. However many leave here at the end of the day is up to you.

And it's the stars, the stars that lie to you.

[neverheardofhim]

[This week, Varric opted to take a page from Vanille’s book. Gathering everyone together after the roller-coaster that the first trial had been proved to be somewhat cathartic for himself. He hoped that it would prove to do the same for the others.]

[He wasn’t alone, of course, having found himself blessed with the most ragtag team of chefs and party-planners. He might have had words for and thoughts on Elda and Kimbley, Mikazuki was welcome company, and he wasn’t about to turn away potential allies, even in a fight as simple as cooking dinner.]

[Once everyone’s set to a task, baking a cake, brewing tea, or stirring stew (the only task Varric could think to assign Elda to), Varric excused himself to his room. His first task was writing up cards, each personally titled and signed by Varric.]

Food in the Library. 5 p.m. Don’t spend the night alone.

[Each note was slid under a door and accompanied by a single rap on the wood.]

[With his tasks completed, Varric returned to the kitchen to put out any potential fires and, with luck, set the food out. A table in the library would be adorned with plenty of tea, cake, pancakes courtesy of Viktor, and stew thanks mostly to Varric (sorry, Elda).]