I think I did this right, sorta.

Several letters on varying parchments of size and weight have been tied together with a ribbon. They read in such order;

Inquisitor, The multiple books on theoretical magic you keep giving me (not really giving, more like stacking them where I usually stand. Upsets the librarian, you see) are all, so far, hogwash. I wrote better proposals on the grungy alleyways of Minrathous whilst drunk. When I said I had many accomplishments, that wasn’t me painting a gratuitous picture; I don’t embellish on anything, my dear. Please tell your idle excuse of an archivist (aforementioned librarian, who won’t leave me alone) to order something better and reputable.

-Dorian

Dorian, I’m sorry our library isn’t up to standards, messere. The one at the top of that pile there was a really interesting one, I thought, and I’d like to at least know your opinion on it. Maybe that’s just a formal way of saying ‘I’d like you to read all these books for me because I don’t have the time to.’ Come see me when you have the chance, something important to discuss.

-Trevelyan

Inquisitor, While I appreciate the encouragement last night of pursuing these books during our important discussion, I opened the first section and spotted two fallacies within the first ten pages. Also, can you not just throw these letters wherever you please? It’s bad enough that you already traipse around Skyhold in your free time (which is usually with me) in your underclothes, but any bored servant could set the chatter of the main hall on fire.

-Dorian

Dorian, I suppose it’s better you told me in writing how bad they were instead of in person, since it would have started you on another tirade about the Imperium and I would have tuned you out. This way, it’s much shorter. I was not aware you had an issue with my dressing, messere. Please direct your complaints to the Ostwick Circle of Magi for raising such a spoiled brat under its roof. Also the Circle’s kitchen staff for serving sweets as a staple to students and the templars letting me nap wherever I wanted because of my surname. However, the planned expedition to Emprise Du Lion will keep my plainclothes out of Skyhold for at least a month at best. I hope this is an appropriate compromise. -Trevelyan

(P.S; there is no cordial way to write in a letter ‘I love hearing the sound of your voice and I don’t want to go without you’ so this is the best I could do. Am I doing this right?)

Inquisitor, First thing’s first; you’re a fool, and I hate you. I agree that letters are a better correspondence since I can actually understand what you’re saying instead of trying to scrutinize words from that drivel you call a Marcher’s accent. The librarian saw the last one. Any reservations they had before are in smoke. Probably best you are out of Skyhold for the month. I shoved this note in your satchel before you left. At least, I think it was yours. I didn’t get a good look as it was dark and scouts were watching. Have I mentioned how much I hate you?

-Dorian

(That was an abysmal attempt. I regret writing this. I regret writing this even more if I put it in the wrong bag. I’m going to be unforgivably bored without you.)

Dorian, Close to Skyhold, runners will let me scribble a note. Wasting ink. You did put it in the wrong bag. Don’t know if Cassandra read it. Probably did. What if I drew up a declaration for people to stop talking in Skyhold? You think Josephine would let me do that? Funny Very cold hard to write Better you aren’t here You might freeze I miss you

-T

Inquisitor, You have nothing better to do than hassle your advisors to impose a talking sanction on the rest of Skyhold. Really, your attention couldn’t be used somewhere else? I admit it’s comical to see a servant open their mouth, glance at a guard, and then start looking around for a piece of paper or start trying to speak another language with their hands. Conversely, my pen and ink has been sabotaged so many times I must carry them with me. Still puzzles me why, but I’m sure you can tell me your full reasoning once you return. That is, if you decide to revoke the vigil. Plenty of other ways we can converse without talking, I assure you. I handed Leliana’s courier ten extra silvers to deliver this. Please return soon and pay me back, because this is your fault. I suppose it doesn’t matter what I write in these anymore, does it?

-Dorian

A crumpled sheet, covered in ink blotches and scratched out lines. It was found shoved into a book case;

Why do I bother addressing these letters with your title. Nothing formal about this.

I do hope you're joking with that order. I’ve already told you that I’m not worried about gossip for my sake, but for yours. I don’t want to ruin everything you’ve built here. The fidelity of the Inquisition is important, and your ambassador works hard at it. I’m trying to spare you from your naivety. You can’t possibly want people to know about us. XXX

Fancy pressed parchment, tacked to every stable wall within Skyhold at one point, states the following in plain script;

Addressed to residents within Skyhold, whether in employment or affiliation to the Inquisition;

The fortress of Skyhold is under observation of a vigil for those in service of the Inquisition, past or present. We ask that all who pass through these halls refrain from speaking, from its entrance to any branches or exits. Chanters remain an exception.

May the resonating echo of silence be a reminder of those that toil the same way for the greater good.

Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition

In the margins of the announcement; (I’m a fool, but in the good way, right?)