Maas looked down at the offered goblet, the foul stench even worse from up close. In it, he saw a future of battling Darkspawn. He saw himself standing atop the Archdemon's broken skull, stabbing it with Orn. He saw the honor, the duty, and - most of all - the sacrifice.
He looked at the dwarf, who had taken the goblet so easily. Their eyes met. Both merely watched the other, silent and waiting.
He looked at the Saarebas, unconscious on the ground, but most certainly alive. She still shuddered and twitched occasionally; whatever was happening must have been terrible.
He looked at the half-elf, now gone from this world, just like that. The very same fate could await him, whether he took the goblet or not.
He looked at the Commander, his eyes solemn and serious. Those eyes left no doubt: if this was done, his path would be set.
Finally, he unsheathed his sword, and in the metal blade, he finally saw himself. Here he stood at the ultimate crossroad: somehow, he just knew that once his decision was made here, regardless of what it was, he would never turn away from his choices. That was who he was. With a slow nod to his own reflection, he resheathed Orn and met the Commander's eyes.
"...No."