The road to Perendale proves less than interesting. Dusty and bare rock, with the odd silver mine to break up the monotony of the road. A peculiar strain of goats are native to the area and they do not seem to care for strangers on the road. They express their displeasure by rushing the Inquisition's horses and butting them in the legs. Annoying, but thank the Maker, not so aggressive and violent to put an end to the travel days.

The road itself begins moving north through Orlais then turns west. There is something small of interest, however. Perhaps. If one is knowledgeable enough and paying attention. The houses en route have a markedly Orlesian style to them. The odd lion battles a dragon in statuary along the way. Clearly the territory used to belong to Nevarra's southern neighbor, lost in an ongoing squabble between the two.

Perendale itself manifests its Orlesian heritage all over the city. The main gates boast lions rampant, entrenched in battle against dragons. Residences and shops are painted in the same lively colors that one would expect to see in any number of Orlais' towns. Thus ends the similarity. There are no gilded masks anywhere to be seen on the occupants, however, the mode of dress is not outlandish. The accents rippling through the air are not of the lilting elision one hears in Val Royeaux, but far closer to matching that of Seeker Pentaghast. Even the smells wafting out of the local taverns are different, rich and spicy; not a whiff of some overblown perfume to be had. The streets are cobbled and moderately clean, at least in the better quarters of the city.

And off in the distance, just outside the city walls, stands the abandoned Circle Tower, with faint infrequent lights flickering in the windows.