Darksoul

Sam Holbig 25
Sam's Story

30th of Harvestmere, 9:42 Dragon

We followed the dwarf merchant (named Kenadrin, apparently) back to his caravan, with Enna running off somewhere again along the way. During the trip, we got a bit of his story, and “persuaded” the leader of the kidnappers — bloke named Lendrid — to tell us what he knew. So far as I can piece together, Kenadrin and his brothers were smuggling a shipment of raw lyrium from Orzammar to Val Royeaux, courtesy of some dwarf crime organization called the Carta. The dwarf says they got the stuff legitimately — well, as legitimately as one can acquire something from a cartel, I suppose — while Lendrid says he and his boys were told the stuff was stolen, and they were planning on ransoming Kenadrin for it. It seems the whole thing is kind of moot, though, because when we arrived at the camp, we found the cooking fire doused, the wagon ransacked, the lyrium gone, and Kenadrin’s two brothers lying in their bedrolls with cut throats. The evidence we found indicated that a single person had done all this, that they clearly knew what they were looking, and that they had hopped on a horse for Val Royeaux.

As you can imagine, we found all this to be a mite… curious, and we asked Kenadrin some very pointed questions about what happened here. Apparently, the little shitstain was SUPPOSED to be on guard duty, and decided to douse the fire and leave his two brothers ASLEEP AND UNGUARDED while he nipped off to Halamshiral to have a drink. Personally, I was ready to wash my hands of the whole affair and leave him to his fate right then and there, but Legnar’s dwarven loyalty and the promise of a hefty reward for getting the lyrium back kept us in the game. I also did my fair share of snarking at Lendrid that apparently his gang had sent him and a dozen of his mates to kidnap one dwarf, while also sending a single person to take out two other dwarves and steal their actual objective; he retorted that his gang weren’t the ones that did this (which makes much more sense, if I’m being honest), and by this point he seemed as interested as we were to find out what the hell was going on. Since our mystery man (or woman?) had apparently already left for Val Royeaux, we decided to press on overnight so as not to lose too much time. We also left a big arrow made of Lendrid’s maul and crossbow, along with a bunch of rocks, for when the rest of his gang inevitably came after us. Hopefully, the fact that we’re actively showing them which way we’re going will clue them in that we want to chat, not fight. (That, or they’ll think we’re just being a bunch of arrogant arseholes….)

Val Royeaux is… beautiful, no other word for it. Got to hand it to the Orlesians, they know how to build a damn fine-looking city! Daryel and I went to go ask the guards if they’d seen our mysterious killer, while the others (including Lendrid, who had apparently slipped his bonds at some point) decided to go hit up the bars for information. I had a reasonably friendly chat with the gate guards, who informed me that they couldn’t just let some random outsider know who was on duty that night, and were only a little pompous about it. Legnar apparently wasn’t as lucky, though, and apparently got himself banned from the nicest tavern in the city. Thankfully, there was a slightly-less-upscale tavern (which still puts anything you’d see in Ostwick to shame) where the bartender was kind enough to give us room and board in exchange for a good story, which our talky dwarf was more than happy to provide. I get the feeling the barkeep felt sorry for the poor foreigners that showed up on his doorstep, since he recommended we use the coin we’d saved to pick up some more appropriate clothing. Me, I’ll enjoy looking, but I’m going to avoid buying anything here as long as I can; Orlesian prices being what they are, I’m pretty sure all the gold in my pocket would last me a day, at most.

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Sam Holbig 24
Sam's Story

28th of Kingsway, 9:42 Dragon

Azrael finally managed to get our marching orders sorted out, so after one more day of taking care of business in Aneth Ara (and buying a small wagon’s worth of travel rations from Mr. Fieri in Denerim), we set out on the road again. Our ultimate goal is going to be the Grand Tourney after all, since apparently Azrael would like to get his hands on the fancy hammer that they’re using as first prize. The Tourney’s not for a while yet, though, and since word is that the port in Harper’s Ford is currently closed off for some Maker-forsaken reason, we’re going to take the long way around the Waking Sea instead. Our first major stop is Orlais, where Enna has some sort of errand she needs to run, and then up to the Anderfels for… some reason or another. (To be honest, I really have no idea what it is Azrael’s even got us looking for out there. I’m sure he wrote it down somewhere, so I’ll check when I have a free moment.) Elly and Morgan will both be staying in Aneth Ara, so I left them five gold pieces to try and build a life with while I’m gone. It’ll hurt not seeing them for — well, however long this takes, probably at least a year I’d wager — but Maker knows it’s safer than them trying to come with me.

Our first couple weeks of travel were largely uneventful, and we soon found ourselves in the city of Halamshiral. Alalen tells me it was an old elven city that got conquered back during the war, and now the rich (human) nobility live in the nice part of town while the elves are stuck in squalor. Poor elves, even their own bloody cities have been turned into alienages! And of course the quiet was too good to last, as we’d barely set foot in the damn place when we came across a gang trying to kidnap a dwarf. Well, I say “gang,” but given their level of organization and dedication to the task at hand, they were almost more like a small military unit. They had one group straight up jump the dwarf, while a second group, including the man I presume was their leader, attempted to outflank using a nearby alleyway. I moved to try and hold off the reinforcements while the rest of the group set about protecting the dwarf, and I must say, we did a pretty good job all told. We laid most of the kidnappers out, and put a couple of them in their graves, I’m pretty sure. Eventually the last two had their nerve break and fled the scene — but only the last two. Again, not your typical street rabble.

Naturally, we talked to the dwarf afterward. He says he’s just a merchant whose caravan is parked a little ways out of town; me, I’m not so sure about that, as random merchants don’t usually attract such dedicated kidnappers. Nevertheless, we’ve agreed to escort him back to his wagon, just in case he attracted any more of the wrong sort of attention. We also managed to take down the gang leader in the fight (and some sharp shooting by Enna guaranteed that he STAYED down), so we’ll be bringing him with us to see if we can get any information out of him. With any luck, whatever’s going on here will be simple enough to resolve, and we’ll be able to knock it out like the heroes we are and get on our merry way… but frankly, what are the odds of that?

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Sam Holbig 23
Sam's Story

17th of August, 9:42 Dragon

We had a couple of pleasant surprises waiting for us back in Aneth Ara. First off, Enna’s back! It seems whatever business caused her to run off has been concluded, so she’s ready to rejoin our merry band. We’ve had a few other shakeups in the party roster, as well: Veto is staying at the Denerim chantry in order to become a Templar, and Tracii has apparently decided to become Thedas’s first Tal-Vashoth Circle mage, but we’ve acquired another elf mage named Sona to make up for it. Secondly, in gratitude for what we’ve done for the town, the folk of Aneth Ara have built us all houses surrounding the main square. Even Legnar got a new house, and as he was quick to point out, he’s only been in town for about an hour up ‘til now! Nevertheless, he seemed right tickled to have a proper place to hang his hat up; I get the sense that Legnar hasn’t had anything that could be called a “home” for quite some time. Me, I wasted no time getting myself, Elly, and Morgan set up in one of the houses. Elly immediately set about making the place more homey, while Morgan got back to the important business of practicing hitting things with other things.

The third pleasant surprise was that Azrael is actually in town at the moment, and we all got rewarded pretty handsomely for the godsawful slog we’ve had to deal with over the past several weeks. In addition to the gold, Azrael had picked up some useful trinkets and baubles for all of us. In my case, I received a defensive crossbar to mount on my lance, which will help keep folk that want to stab me a bit further away — always a good thing! (We also got to see the look on Emery’s face when we handed the shadow moss that had been “burned in the fire” to Azrael, which was good for a laugh.) Azrael’s still working out the details of where we’re headed next; the pointy bastard STILL won’t tell us what we’re after in Orlais, but apparently he’s found something else for us to hunt down in the Anderfels, and has a lead on ANOTHER trinket that’s apparently serving as the prize for the Grand Tourney back in the Free Marches. Looks like we have a proper world tour ahead of us in the future! I’ll have to have a good long talk with Elly and Morgan and figure out how that’s going to work.

Speaking of Elly and Morgan, I got back from the team meeting with Azrael to see the former making dinner and the latter practicing sword swings with a stick. As mentioned previously, I think it’s time the boy learned how to swing a sword for real, so I lent him my bastard sword for a bit and showed him how to use it properly. To his credit, he managed to not chop any of his own bits off, which is probably better than I would have done at his age. Our training was soon interrupted by a festival starting in the town square, however, which is apparently a pretty common occurrence these days. It’s been far too long since our lot have had the chance to properly unwind, so we all decided to head out and join in the festivities.

To be honest, a decent chunk of what happened that evening has vanished into an alcoholic haze. I remember Elly and I dancing like fools, and Morgan making an arse of himself with a pretty elf girl, which was hopefully a good learning experience for him at least. I think the rest of my team got even more pickled than I did, and I’m pretty sure folk were doodling obscene cartoons on each other’s faces by the end of the night. Still, it was a great time all told, and a much-needed reprieve from all the horseshit we’ve had shoveled on us these past few weeks.

… Not going to lie, it’s going to be damn hard to pick up and head out again on another of Azrael’s fool quests, especially if this one’s going to be taking us across the whole damn continent and back again. I’ve said it before, yeah? That the point of all this wandering was to find something worth settling down for? In this town, with these people and this family, I think I might have found it.

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Alalen 22
Alalen's Story

Seventeenth day of the Eighth month, Sixteenth year

After verifying that the alienage was still locked down, I spent some time commissioning a nicer set of armor before rejoining the others at our caravan. This heavy leather I’m wearing is getting a bit too worn.

Once everyone arrived, we left Denerim and returned to Aneth Ara. We were greeted as we entered town, and to our surprise (particularly Legnar’s), they informed us that they had constructed homes for us.

While Sam settled his family down in one, Enna emerged from the neighboring house. She seemed pleased to see the rest of us, and of course suggested we should celebrate our reunion with a night of excessive drinking. How could we refuse?

But first things first, we all joined Azrael to discuss the mission he sent us on. While I didn’t particularly care for Emory being there when I pulled the shadowmoss out of my bag, at least Sam had the presence of mind to stand in stabbing distance of the mage. I handed the bag over to Azrael, who paid us in the form of gold and some rather nice equipment. The short swords he gave me were well crafted, and with much better balance than the pair I had previously been using.

After we left, Legnar and I went to lay claim to our own homes. He set to carving an odd symbol in to his door, which he explained was something of a moniker for his clan. I chose the neighboring building as mine. I do not know how I feel about the idea of a house that cannot travel with me, but if I’m going to have one, then Aneth Ara is where I would choose to have it.

But as nice as it was to have a safe place to return to at the end of a journey, it was time to return my focus to the reason I left the aravels in the first place. I pulled the list of names of my missing kinswomen from my bag and hung it from the wall by the door.

Taking one last look at it, I left my house and joined the others. Perhaps a night of drunken revelry could lift my spirits.

As it so often does, the evening devolved in to a drinking contest. At one point, some combination of alcohol and my earlier melancholy drove me to flirt with Eshara. I can’t recall precisely what it was I said, but her reaction told me I had stuck my foot in my mouth. I’ll need to apologize to her later, once the hangover fades.

Sam seemed to have far more luck, as between rounds of ale I saw him and Ellie dancing their way through the party. Seems he can be quite graceful when he isn’t wearing that giant suit of armor of his.

After a couple more rounds, during one of which Enna passed out, one of our new guardsmen slapped a pair of gold coins on the table, which began a high stakes drinking contest. Sona and I both passed out at some point, though we regained consciousness before the end – and before Enna could begin drawing on my face. Legnar then proceeded to drink the 4 remaining guardsmen under the table, where Enna, Sona, and I immediately began drawing on their faces.
Legnar handed Sona and I our coins back, along with an extra each, downed the last of the ale on the table, and staggered back towards his house. I decided to turn in as well, and after pushing Legnar far enough in to his house to close the door – poor guy collapsed just inside the threshold – I retired to my own home.

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Sam Holbig 22
Sam's Story

3rd of August, 9:42 Dragon

We made it to the next town along in Sister Stone’s Maker tour, and most of us decided to hole up in the chantry while Alalen and Legnar went out hunting. This chantry had a couple of Templar in it, which we figured would come in handy if the Arl decided to try any more shenanigans. Turns out they did exactly that, albeit not quite how I was expecting. We woke up the next morning to find the Arl himself pounding on our door, along with a full hundred of his men and fifty townsfolk that he’d rounded up and clapped in irons. Including Alalen and Legnar, as it turned out. Poor bastards just can’t seem to catch a break when it comes to hunting trips!

It seems the cause of all this fuss is that the Arl had gotten the idea in his head that Sister Stone was actually an apostate mage, working all kinds of unlicensed magic in his realm. Now, if you’re wondering why an apostate would choose to become a sister of the chantry and hang around with Templars all day, then congratulations, you have more wit than our dear friend the Arl does. In the typical manner of powerful men who are long on bluster and short on brains, the Arl threatened to kill one of his prisoners every hour unless the sister gave herself up. Obviously the sister wasn’t having this, and after a bit of back and forth (during which time Legnar was nearly the first one executed, thanks to his interminable mouth-flapping), it was decided that, in exchange for the prisoners going free, Sister Stone would accompany the Arl back to his keep where he and the Templars would put her on trial for witchcraft.

Well, no sooner had irons been clapped on the sister that they promptly fell off again, along with the shackles on all fifty prisoners, and no amount of effort would get them to fasten again. The Templars standing next to the sister at the time confirmed that no magic had been worked, suggesting that perhaps the Maker was getting a bit tired of this nonsense and decided to take a more direct hand in things. Not that this mattered to the Arl. Like a child whose favorite toy had been taken away, the Arl threw a full-on temper tantrum, drew his sword, and attempted to cut down the sister right then and there. The sword struck true — and promptly bounced off, leaving not a mark on the sister. Again, no magic was cast, so say the Templars. The Arl wasn’t done with his hissy fit, of course, and readied his sword to try again, but before he could, Sister Stone suddenly dropped dead in front of all of us. Perhaps the Maker was making a point about how the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away? Or maybe the sister had finally gotten as sick of this shit as the rest of us and decided to bugger off before the farce got any worse.

At any rate, the sister was dead and the Arl had hit her with a sword (though those two facts weren’t as closely connected as they usually would be), and I would have been perfectly happy letting the angry mob tear him several new arseholes by way of recompense. But no, the Templars insisted that he be taken back to face a proper trial, which seems awfully generous considering the man’s own clearly low opinion of judicial process. So the Templars went one way and we went the other, delivering the sister back to the Denerim chantry like we promised. Those at the chantry were quite gracious and understanding, all things considered, so at least we were well-rewarded for our efforts. After that, we all spent some time puttering about in Denerim, and we’ll be headed back to Aneth Ara on the morrow.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think my son’s gotten quite enough practice hitting stumps with a hatchet. Time to see how the lad handles a bastard sword.

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Alalen 21
Alalen's Story

Third day of the Eighth Month

The next day, we found the rest of the group at the Chantry. The Earl, who more resembled a bear than a man, threatened all of the hostages unless the Sister gave herself up. What followed appeared to be a heated exchange between Vito, Sam, and the bear-man. I didn’t hear much of it over my own tirades at the guards, but what I heard indicated that the Earl was in more need of an ass kicking than I had originally thought.

Legnar succeeded in earning more enmity from the guards in a few sentences than all of my shouting, as they decided to drag him off to be executed first. The entire town might have exploded in to violence at that point, as Vito and Sam had evidently had quite enough, but the Sister stepped in to stop all of it. The guards – and a pair of Templar – took her in to custody, chaining her up with the rest of us.

I don’t know how to explain what happened next, beyond one of the gods decided to step in. All of the chains binding the prisoners, including those on the Sister, fell away. I promptly used my newly regained freedom to break the nose of the nearest guard. The five swords that appeared at my throat immediately after prevented me from exacting a more complete punishment of those responsible for my imprisonment, but I felt I had at least made my point.

The guards attempted to re-bind all of us, but the shackles repeatedly fell to the ground at our feet. The Templar by the Sister indicated that whatever was happening had not been caused by magic, which the Earl evidently took issue with. The fool drew his sword and tried to kill her. His blade somehow failed to pierce the Sister’s skin, but before he could try again, she fell to the ground, dead.

The guards and Templar subdued the Earl, promising that he would pay dearly for his transgressions against those present and the Chantry as a whole. Legnar and I reclaimed our equipment from the guards before rejoining our own caravan.

The Templar loaded the Sister’s body in to the cart with the unconcious form of Jeffery, stating that they would accompany us to Denerim. We were joined by 27 guards from a group that had begun following the Sister while Legnar and I were gone, as well as an elf circle mage, who introduced herself as Sona.

The rest of the trip back to Denerim passed uneventfully. We brought the fallen Sister and our captive apostate to the Chantry, where we were paid handsomely for our efforts. We then went out to handle our own errands. Mine included a bath and a trip to the tavern. There was unfortunately still no news of the mercenaries I seek, though I thought I recognized descriptions of that group we ran into, back when Aneta Ara was first established.

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Sam Holbig 21
Sam's Story

6th of Solace, 9:42 Dragon

Made it to the next town. The sister went to go take care of her business in the chantry, and about half the group accompanied her while the other half hung around outside to take care of various business. Me, I found a nice tree stump and decided to teach young Morgan some basic strikes. That’s what we were up to when a few of the local Arl’s men rode up, asking us if we were associated with the sister at all, and requesting that we let them know if we see her perform any miracles, and saying that maybe we should consider not leaving town until the Arl himself came to town in a day or so.

Needless to say, this whole thing seemed mighty suspicious, and after we all met back up in town and compared notes, it was decided that perhaps the sister needed to advance her pilgrimage’s timetable, so to speak. (For what it’s worth, the sister does seem to have some kind of power to minister to the sick and that sort of thing — but big deal, I see Daryel doing that sort of thing all the time.) It seems the sister is familiar with the old Arl from previous pilgrimages through this part of the country, but now the old Arl’s dead, and the new one doesn’t seem too fond of her for one reason or another. We decided to leave at first light the next day, and just for extra security, my family, Tracii and I would accompany the sister in disguise out the back end of town, while the rest of the group would disguise Daryel as the sister and take the direct path to the next village.

Of course, things didn’t go as planned. When do they ever? It seems the Arl decided to hide a small battalion’s worth of troops out here in the woods; my group encountered a pair almost immediately after leaving town, and while I fed them a line about boar hunting and led them back into town to “meet the sister,” we swiftly discovered that another half-dozen or so had intercepted the other group and, erm, “exchanged words” with them. Not to mention a few other guards had apparently shot arrows as Tracii and the rest while they were looping around town! Eventually, though, we managed to shake all the guards — blows to the head were involved, I’ll admit — and get on our way again. And then the sister tells us to stop, and rides ahead a little bit. She points her hand, the clouds above part, and a gust of wind blows through the brush… revealing yet another twelve guards, crouched and waiting to ambush us, AGAIN. Luckily, it seems this show of magic or coincidence or whatever was enough to convince the Arl’s men that the sister was in fact some kind of miracle worker, so now they’re riding alongside us rather than trying to bring us in. I think. I hope.

To be honest, this whole misadventure seems a bit silly to me. The guards I spoke to insisted that the Arl just wanted to talk to the sister, but they wouldn’t or couldn’t tell me WHY. And when I asked them why they didn’t just talk to her directly, or why there were so bloody many of them creeping about in the woods, they said that they were waiting for reinforcements. Reinforcements for WHAT? Why are they so scared of one chantry sister, who’s already been through here at least once before? The whole thing reeks of ill intent, or at the very least of some deeply-entrenched stupidity and pigheadedness. It’s already led to some arguably-pointless bloodshed, and we’ll probably see more before the next day is out.

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Alalen 20
Alalen's Story

Sixth Day of the Seventh Month

Legnar and I went to go off and hunt. Unfortunately, we ran in to yet another of those bizarre horned deer creature, and then were captured by a bunch of the nearby nobles guards. They apparently wanted the Sister, believing her to be an apostate. Something to do with miracles… Unfortunately, they thought it a good idea to put me in chains. Somebody needed to pay for that.

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Alalen 19
Alalen's Story

Visited tavern in Lothering –
Now that I’ve found a competent group of companions, it’s time to start hunting the mercenaries that attacked my aravel. Seems they mostly operate in the North, as no one here has heard of them.

Met the party at Chantry –
Good, everyone is here. We can finally get out of this blasted city and back to the country.

Leaving Loathering –
Wonder what these people are muttering about… I’ll have to ask the Sister about it once we are out of here.

DIverted to side town –
More towns? Wonderful… Best make sure this one isn’t going to try to kill us.

Found dry river-
The river is dry? How??? We will have to follow up on this once we scout the town.

Entered the small town –
Another town, another not-so-warm greeting. Not sure why I expect anything different anymore. Perhaps this apostate will provide some explanation for why the river is dried up.

Traveling up river to the source of the problem –
What a mess. The smell here is atrocious, and I am leaning towards ignoring the Sisters plea for non-violent solutions to this problem.

Entering the demon’s cave –
The evil in this place is palpable. Even Veto is on-board with killing this mage, and given his devotion to the Sister’s wishes so far, that says something.

Trying to interfere with the demon –
While watching Legnar freeze in place is somewhat amusing, that we cannot reach this demon is problematic. I think I’ll join Veto in petitioning the Gods for aide.

Smoked the demon out –
Hey, look, Sam’s fire worked! Legnar and I are going to go make sure the demon is gone.

Jeffrey –
Huh. So this is Jeffrey. Kind of a bitch without his demon to help.

Back at town –
The Sister looks a bit green around the gills. Wonder what happened while we were out.

Leaving the town –
So we’ve brought an insane apostate, who has already made a deal with a demon once, along with us for the ride. Yup, no way this ends up bad. I’ll keep a close eye on him while we travel…

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Sam Holbig 20
Sam's Story

22nd of Justinian, 9:42 Dragon

Finally had a chance to chat with my son a bit on the way back to Lothering. It seems the lad’s name is Morgan, and he wants to become a fighting man like his da. We caught up with Elly in Lothering, and made ourselves a plan — she and the boy will come with me back to Aneth Ara, where I’ll teach him how to handle himself in combat, and hopefully stop him from getting into too much mischief (ha, right!). We stopped just long enough to grab some fresh horses and supplies, and then started heading back to Denerim, with a few extra souls in tow: Tracii (who we’d managed to track down again); Alenka and Sir Corben, formerly of the Arl’s household, now just as eager to get the fuck out of here as the rest of us; and a sister of the Chantry, who was apparently down here on some sort of pilgrimage and now needs an escort back to Denerim.

Well, our luck being what it is, we hadn’t made it far out of Lothering before we ran into trouble. Our path took us close to a farming village a little ways off the Imperial road, and apparently the sister knows the place and wanted to pay them a visit. When we arrived, however, we saw that the town’s river had run dry for no discernible reason. Naturally the sister wanted to know what was behind this, so we rode into town and started asking around. Apparently the local villagers did something to piss off a mage at some point, and suspect that he’s gone and cursed the river. Obviously this isn’t doing anyone any good, so while the sister stayed and prayed at the local chantry, the rest of us went upstream to try and find the source of the problem. We soon came to a fork where the town’s river should have been getting its water from, except that the big river had been turned into a stinking, boggy mess with dead fish everywhere and hardly any water flowing. A nearby cave was the only feature of note, and so — since we collectively possess enough brain cells to put two and two together, but not enough to think better of all this — we decided to head down into the cave for a look-see.

As you might imagine, what we found in the cave wasn’t exactly a surprise. There was an apostate mage down there, deep into his Harrowing, chanting some kind of blasphemous incantation in a deep, demonic voice. Problem was, whatever demon was possessing the mage apparently didn’t want to be interrupted, and a magic bubble about ten feet in diameter stopped us from getting close to the mage or attacking him in any way. We tried talking to him instead, but the demon was particularly unhelpful — just kept saying that the townsfolk had wronged this mage somehow (he was non-specific as to the details) and that he was going to help the spell-slinger get his vengeance. Needless to say we weren’t having any of that, so we started muddling over a way to stop this mage from doing whatever-it-was he was doing. I noticed that the fellow still seemed to be breathing, so we hit upon the idea of filling the cave with kindling and setting it alight; even if the mage’s demon-aura stopped the fire from hurting him, maybe the smoke would choke him out.

Well, as far as I can tell, that seemed to do the trick; after the fire had been burning for a while, we suddenly saw this rush of clean water sweep down the riverbed and bring the river back to its proper level. (Veto would tell me later that the sister had been deep in meditation and prayer, and had passed out at roughly the same time; okay, so maybe it was a miracle, but I’m still claiming some of the credit, dammit!) Once the fire had gone down enough for us to go back inside the cave, we went back and found the mage — still breathing, somehow, but apparently not harrowed anymore. We trussed him up and brought him back to town (and may have woken him up and knocked him out a few times along the way, for one reason or another…), where we promptly dumped him in the chantry to stop the villagers from lynching him. Still, we couldn’t leave him there; the town didn’t exactly have much in the way of permanent staff for its chantry, and we suspected it was only a matter of time before they decided to enact some justice of their own on the mage that had been troubling them. So, we tied him back up again, gave him a few more whacks on the head for good measure, and are now carting him off to Denerim. Hopefully he’ll get something resembling a proper trial there? Maybe? Whatever, the finer points of mage justice are beyond my field of expertise.

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