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Telasi
2015-01-18, 09:30 PM
Hello! After the success of my last campaign journal and by request of some of the other players, I've decided to do another one for the Dragon Age RPG campaign my group just started. This will be an in-character, first person account because I like writing those, and because it helps me collect my thoughts. Feel free to comment, ask questions, and otherwise interact. Some of the other players may get on here and provide commentary, too.

This campaign, I'm playing Halani, First to Keeper Dieran of Clan Omosherae, a Dalish mage with a healing emphasis. I'll introduce the other PCs when I meet them in character, since the first session was individual prologues. In the Dragon Age tradition, mine finds Halani on possibly the worst day of her life...


Prologue

“Mamae! Mamae!”

“Hmm?” I looked up from my list at the sound of my daughter's voice. Mesial was just bounding around the last pile of supplies, her brother Arafen in tow. The pair skidded to a stop in the aravel's shadow as I crouched down to talk with them.

“Can... can we go exploring?”

“Go exploring where?”

“Just in the woods. We won't go far, I promise.” Mesial fidgeted with her auburn braid as she gave me her best innocent look. Just like her father. I took a moment to consider the question. The Brecilian Forest isn't completely safe, but with the clan's hunters about it should be safe enough close to our camp, and Mesial was old enough to not need a parent watching her every moment.

I nodded. “All right, but stay close.” I think she was expecting me to tell her no, by her expression, but it didn't stop her from taking her brother and running off. I smiled, shook my head, and went back to work.

The day wore on in a blur; the clan was to go south for the summer, and in the absence of a proper hearthmistress it fell to me to ensure we could, and a hundred other things besides. I was just finished speaking with Keeper Dieran when a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist. Iendelas, my husband, leaned down and kissed my cheek as he drew me in. “Busy day?”

“Very.” I smiled. “And you, ma vhenan?”

“Surprisingly quiet. Normally Mesial would have been bothering me for more lessons long before now, but I haven't seen her all day. I had assumed she was with you.”

“All day?” A chill ran through me, and I pulled away to face my husband. “I... saw her a few hours ago. She asked if she could take Arafen into the woods. If you haven't seen her...” I trailed off as that thought settled in. “We need to find them!”

Iendelas nodded and glanced at the Keeper. “Keeper Dieran, I need to borrow ma vhenan.” I didn't wait for the response.

Asking around the camp turned up a young hunter who had seen Mesial, at least. Not just seen, but had told her about a ruin in the forest nearby. The boy nearly jumped out of his skin when I told him to show me. For a ruin, the place was surprisingly intact. A few stones fallen away, a few patches where roots and vines had begun to overtake it, but still recognizable. And elven, I noted. If they found something in there... I shoved that thought away and focused. “Arafen? Mesial?” After a moment, the sound of a pair of running feet. Only one...

A moment later, Mesial came charging out of the entrance, tears streaming from her eyes. “Mamae, Arafen fell down and I can't wake him up!” She latched onto my leg, blinking up at me.

My heart lurched from my stomach to my feet. I set my hand on her shoulder in what I hoped was a comforting gesture and tried to inject calm into my voice. “Show me.”

As Mesial led us inside, I saw that the interior of the ruin was even better preserved than outside. Ghostly green flames danced from dust-covered sconces along the walls. Veilfire. The eerie light showed rows of statues lying on biers to either side, and doubtless more beyond where I could see. Arafen was sprawled in a trail through the dust where his sister had been trying to drag him out when we'd arrived. A quick check told me he was alive; for all I could tell, he was just asleep. “He's alive, at least,” I mused. I looked to Mesial. “Did he touch anything?” A shake of her head told me no. “How long were you in here?”

“We... we weren't in here very long.” She sniffed. “We just came and looked at the statues and the weird people and then we started home when he fell down and then I couldn't wake him up and...” A muffled thump interrupted her explanation as Iendelas caught our guide. That decided me: I picked up Arafen and started out, trailed by Mesial and Iendelas.

Outside, we laid the sleepers out and I checked over our guide. Alive but unresponsive, just like Arafen. I chewed my lip for a moment. “Tell me everything you did inside,” I told Mesial, a bit too sharply.

“We, umm, we went down the steps and then the lanterns went on and Arafen said we should go home but I wanted to see more and we went in more and looked at the statues and then we found the weird people down the hallway and poked them and then Arafen wanted to go home so we started going back and then he fell down.” Mesial's explanation was a babble, just short of panic, and I immediately regretted my tone. The girl had just had her brother drop next to her with no warning, and thinking her mother was blaming her wouldn't help anything.

I hugged my daughter and tried to force calm into my voice. “Tell me about the people.”

“They were back inside, down the hall that was that way,” she said, pointing right. “They were humans, but weird. Their skin was all rough. They wouldn't wake up either,” she concluded decisively.

“You touched them? Did Arafen?” A nod on both counts. No way to tell if that was important. That there was magic at work was obvious, but I needed to know more. If I go back in there... I glanced sideways at the entrance, then down to my son and back up at my husband. This wasn't really a choice for me. Iendelas knew what that look meant, and I cut him off before he could object. “I think I need to see this.”

“What if you fall to it, too?” A simple question, but it cut deeper than any amount of anger would have because he was right. It could happen, and I was one of the only two people in the clan who had a chance of doing something about this. Then again, it's possible I had already been affected and it was just a matter of time anyway. I couldn't know, and it didn't change my decision either way.

“If I'm not back in ten minutes, tell the keeper.” I rose, underscoring the finality in my tone. I felt Iendelas' hand grip my shoulder, and for a second I thought he would try to stop me, but he spun me around and pulled me into a kiss instead.

“Be careful, ma vhenan,” he said quietly. His voice was level, but he couldn't quite manage to hide the fear in his eyes from me.

I blinked back my own tears and managed a weak smile. “I will,” I replied, and then I gripped my staff and plunged back into the ruins.

I found the people Mesial had mentioned quickly enough. A dozen bodies lay scattered on the floor, humans and a few elves. By the look of them, they had come together; none of the elves had vallaslin, and their clothes were all of a style. Looters, I assumed. The veilfire cast eerie green highlights over skin gone to a pale grey and far too rough, like weathered stone. A few took shallow breaths now and then, I realized, but I dared not touch them to feel for a heartbeat. I pressed forward; there was nothing here to mark a cause. Here and there I came on other bodies, Dalish in twos and threes, a few humans, all covered in dust and long turned to stone. At last, I came to a dead end, a round chamber with veilfire flickering from a channel around the base of the walls. The walls themselves were covered in amber mosaics, and I recognized the subject: Falon'Din the Guide, our god of death and fortune. Script - prayers, I assumed - flowed down the walls between the images. I couldn't read it; most of our language had been lost in the millenia of slavery after Elvhenan fell, and only the keepers could read any of it. More petrified bodies, these Dalish, were scattered across the floor. One was unlike the rest; he knelt facing the wall opposite the door, like a praying Andrastian. Or a man in agony, my mind added unbidden. I circled around to see his front and found that he was facing a niche in the wall. An amulet, jade worked with silver, dangled from his hands. I could see markings on it as it spun and steadied it with the end of my staff, but I could no more read these than the ones on the walls. In truth, I would not have sworn they were even writing, as small as they were. Frustrated, I looked around the chamber for anything else that might give me a sign, but found nothing. Back outside, then.

My breath caught in my throat as I emerged from the temple. Iendelas held Mesial limp in his arms and was easing her to the ground next to her brother. “She collapsed a minute ago,” he said, looking up at the sound of my footsteps. “I think we need to get the keeper now.” I nodded, wiping tears from my eyes; I'd done all I could. I gathered up my children and started the walk back to camp.

Keeper Dieran's scowl grew deeper as he held the amulet in his hand. He'd been unhappy enough when I'd come back into camp with three unconscious elves, and my account of how it had happened had done nothing for that. Neither had the bodies, some of whom, I noted, were no longer breathing when we arrived. “Too long exposed the curse,” he'd said. “We shouldn't linger here.” He stood, lifting the amulet free of the statue. The figure fell to pieces as Dieran slipped the amulet into his pouch and gestured for me to follow. “We should move the clan as soon as possible.” I nodded. I had enough proof this place was dangerous without needing confirmation.

As soon as we arrived back at camp, we were swamped with reports of others collapsing. That changed things, it seemed. “Separate the fallen,” Dieran told them. “I'll see to them as soon as I can.” As the clan went about that, the keeper drew me aside. “Da'len, I think that place is an uthenera tomb. I don't know what happened to make it this way, but with so many affected we can no longer move the clan. I think taking them away from here will only accelerate the process.”

It took all my will to restrain myself. But it would have been all right when it was just my children, I thought bitterly. I understood the reasoning, but that didn't change how I felt. Looking for a better option than the things I wanted to do to the keeper at that moment, I instead asked “How do we stop it?”

The keeper shook his head. “I don't know, da'len. I've never seen this before. I'm going to send runners to look for the other clans here, to see if their keepers know. I need you to go and see if the shemlen mages have anything in their library. You'll probably need to find someone to help you get in, likely at Redcliffe.”

I nodded. “All right.” It was too late to be leaving even if I'd felt able to, so I turned away. “Then if you'll excuse me, keeper, I need to be with my family.”

Dawn came too early, and with it the time to leave...

JadedDM
2015-01-19, 01:50 PM
Excellent story so far. What year does this take place in?

Should be quite a bit of culture shock when she arrives in Redcliffe, I imagine.

Telasi
2015-01-19, 02:52 PM
Hey, JadedDM. It's the early summer of 9:39 Dragon, so nine years after the Blight and just after the whole fiasco in Kirkwall. The Circles haven't quite voted for the rebellion, but it's about to happen.

I suspect you're right about Redcliffe. If not from the natives, I've heard some of the other PCs are a bit odd. Plus whatever crisis hits, because it's not a visit to Redcliffe without one. :smalltongue:

JadedDM
2015-01-25, 02:59 AM
Cool. I'm running my own Dragon Age game at the moment; well, it's just An Arl's Ransom, actually. I'm sort of taking the system out for a test drive, see how it runs. Anyway, I look forward to seeing what happens to Halani next.

Telasi
2015-01-25, 11:03 PM
Session 2! This one is a lot longer, but it actually took about the same time to write, oddly enough. This time, Halani makes some new enemies, and maybe a new friend or two. :smallwink:


Chapter 1
In Which Our Heroine Finds Humans Very Odd

“I am going to see the arl.”

“What?” The shemlen guard stared at me blankly.

“You asked my business. I am here to speak to the arl,” I repeated more slowly.

“You... Is he expecting you?”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“Then what's your business with the arl?” The guard looked at me again. “Wait, you're one of those Dalish. What are you even doing in Redcliffe?”

I blinked. “I told you already. I'm here to speak to the arl. Is there some reason I can't? Is he ill?”

“Uh... Normally you have to wait for an invitation to see the arl.”

“That seems... slow.” And self-important. “So you have to wait for the arl to decide he wants to hear about your problems and invite you, then actually tell him, then wait for him to do something about it? That's a lot of waiting.” Compared to dealing with a keeper, at least, it seemed terribly inefficient. Maybe because there's so many of them?

“I'll... go get someone.” The guard gave me an odd look and disappeared inside, leaving only his partner at the gate with me.

“Odds are you won't get to see the arl today,” the other guard said once his partner had gone. “Something wrong with your clan? People bothering you? We don't get Dalish in Redcliffe much.”

“Not bothering us in particular, no. My keeper sent me to look into a matter at your circle tower and told me that I should come to Redcliffe for help getting in.” This guard seemed more reasonable, at least, but I omitted the details as a precaution anyway. No reason to let any more shemlen than necessary know that we're vulnerable.

“You should probably go see the Chantry and the Templars for that,” the guard replied, dubiously.

“I see. And where is that?” I settled my staff against my shoulder and folded my hands as I listened to the directions, indicating that I would wait. I had already asked for a meeting, after all, and in truth I preferred to not risk dealing with Templars or Chantry in general if I could avoid it.

As it happened, I was left waiting for some time. I was beginning to grow impatient when a squat little man walked up. A dwarf, I supposed; I'd never seen one, but there couldn't be many kinds of short, broad people, surely? “Good afternoon,” he greeted the guard.

“Afternoon,” the guard replied, looking the dwarf over.

“I'm Eadrek Haver. I have a message to deliver to the arl, and then I need one sent back to Orzammar.”

“You with that ambassador we heard about? You're late.”

“Yeah, there's a reason for that,” the dwarf – Eadrek – replied, producing a paper and holding it up for the guard to see.

The guard looked it over, glanced down at Eadrek, then irritably back over his shoulder at the castle. “Steward should be down in a bit, anyway. Take it up with her.”

Sure enough, a harried looking woman with a writing board piled with papers finally appeared in the gate. “Yes, yes, yes, what is it now?” She didn't look up from her work, instead addressing the space vaguely outside the gate.

I took that as my cue. “My name is Halani. I am First to Keeper Dieran of Clan Omosherae. I was hoping to arrange to speak with the arl, since that's apparently difficult. I have urgent business that requires me to access your circle tower, and I was told by my keeper that I should come here for that.”

The steward flipped something on her board and spared me a dubious look before replying. “You really should consult with the Chantry on that. Arl Teagan has already had plenty of... issues... with the tower. Is there anything else?”

Eadrek cut in before I could reply. “Yes. The Lady Aeducan has been abducted by bandits.”

That got her attention. “Then I take it she will not be attending the Landsmeet?”

“Not for now. I need...”

This was none of my concern, and I was evidently not welcome here in any case, so I turned and started to walk away while they were occupied with the dwarf. Stormed off might be a better description, really. The Chantry, it seemed, was my only option.

Redcliffe's chantry was set into the side of the hill overlooking the village itself. A handful of armored men, templars I presumed, stood outside. As I approached, they quickly drew weapons and fanned out between me and the building. I drew up well short of them, careful not to look as if I meant to attack. I hadn't exactly expected a warm welcome, but I'd been unprepared to be met with bare steel on mere sight. After a moment, one of the templars edged a bit closer and addressed me. “You're not from around here, are you. Is your clan camped close, Dalish?”

“No,” I replied vaguely, watching the templars as much as they did me.

“Then what do you want?”

“I was told that, apparently, the only way to proceed with my mission is to speak with your Chantry,” I replied cautiously.

“Your mission,” the leader repeated skeptically “And what mission is that?”

“In summary, I need to gain access to the library at your circle for research purposes.”

“You want to get into the circle.”

“Did I misspeak?” Maybe not my wisest answer, but I was irritated at the time.

“All right, then.” He extended a hand towards me. “Hand over your staff.” The way he said it gave me pause.

“... Why?” I was stalling. Aside from a bit of sentimental value, the staff was immaterial. There were five of them, each bearing arms and armor that looked as if they weighed nearly as much as I did, and no doubt they were skilled with them. By contrast, I was a healer who had never turned her power against any person, alone in an unfriendly village. Staff or no, I could not win if it came to battle.

“So we can take you to the circle.” I retreated a step as he edged closer.

“I think there's been a misunderstanding here,” cut in a third voice. It took me a moment to place it: Eadrek, the dwarf.

“Are you following me, dwarf?”

“Not intentionally,” he replied.

“There doesn't seem to be much of a misunderstanding. She wants to go to the circle,” the lead templar interjected.

“Not in that capacity,” Eadrek shot back.

“I... need to do research. My keeper sent me to find the answer to certain urgent questions.” I was still trying to defuse the situation.

“You realize you can go to the circle, right?” Eadrek again.

“One can do that? I was told I would need assistance in entering,” I asked, confused.

“Yes,” Eadrek replied.

The templar looked at Eadrek oddly, then back to me. “Normally, you need a lord's permission or to join the circle.”

“Well, you're not looking to do that, are you?”

“No, why would I do that?” I was at this point thoroughly lost and wondering whether I could remove myself from the situation before the dwarf made it any worse.

“I believe she's looking to study there on behalf of her clan,” Eadrek continued.

“I have already said this,” I warned, backing a bit farther away.

The templar shrugged. “Joining is the only way I can see her getting in.” He still held his hand out.

My patience finally ended. “This is going to be another waste of my time, is it? I've had quite enough of that today.”

“You said your clan wasn't nearby,” the templar responded darkly. “I suggest you move on from Redcliffe as soon as possible.”

“And I would if you would stop wasting my time,” I shot back. “First I went to the arl, and I was told I needed to speak to the chantry. Then I came to speak to the chantry, and you're telling me that what I really need is to speak to the arl!”

One of the templars disappeared through the chantry doors, and the rest looked significantly at one another. “I think we should get out of here,” Eadrek hissed. I agreed; I was out of options. We retreated

“So if you aren't following me, what is it you are doing?” I asked Eadrek once we were out of sight of the chantry.

“This is a bit uncomfortable for me,” he replied. “I was part of a diplomatic envoy from Orzammar on its way to Denerim. The Lady Aeducan was... bewitched by some foul magic, apparently. Now I must rescue her before... The consequences of not doing so will be grave, I imagine.”

“What sort of enchantment? Describe it.”

“Her eyes... her eyes glowed red. That I won't forget. Some whispered it might be... secret magic.” The dwarf looked haunted, if anything.

Blood magic? I couldn't be certain; the dwarf had given me next to nothing to guess from. “I see. Have you any idea why?”

“None whatsover. We were a simple diplomatic envoy. Though the Aeducan household is an important one in Orzammar. If that were disrupted, then it might damage the leadership of the city, but she isn't in line for the throne, and even then it's decided by the Shaperate.”

“Hmm,” I mused. “What would a mage want with a dwarf?”

“A good question, but you'll forgive me if I don't give a damn about their reasons.” Eadrek growled. “I just need her back.” The dwarf eyed me speculatively. “And I understand you need entrance to the Fereldan circle.”

I paused. “Yes,” I answered cautiously.

“That would be tricky if you don't mean to join.”

“And I suppose you have some alternative to propose.”

“What is it you're looking for?”

“An answer to a question,” I evaded. The dwarf had already done me little good in Redcliffe.

“Well, either way, if you're going to the circle, you'll have to take the road east anyway. Strength in numbers, all that, and I imagine that staff of yours isn't for decoration.”

“No, it's for walking.” Technically true; I used it as a walking stick far more than I ever did as a weapon.

Eadrek laughed. “Of course it is. Well, my bandits are out east and we have to go that way to make it to the circle anyway. Care to join me and the kid?”

“I'll consider it. I notice you want my help, but you haven't actually offered anything.”

“I offer you a reasonable path to the circle, but I don't know what else I reasonably can offer you. If you're looking for a guarantee, there is none.”

“And how, exactly, do you propose to get me into the circle?”

“I'll tell you what, elf. Help me find the Lady Aeducan, and it'll be worth a favor from Orzammar. Maybe their goodwill will be enough to get you in and out. The circle needs its lyrium; there's certain... pressures that can be applied to get you in.”

I picked up the pace at the sound of a commotion in the chantry's direction. “I begin to think it best that I not be here,” I told Eadrek.

“Just picked up on that, did you?” He snorted. “Where are my manners. I'm Eadrek Haver, of the warrior caste of Orzammar.”

“Halani, First to Keeper Dieran of Clan Omosherae.”

“Well met.” The dwarf waved at a shemlen child leaning against a building.

“You seem to be in a bit of a rush,” the boy commented as he fell in beside Eadrek.

“Orzammar has been contacted. I don't feel the need to wait for their reply. Besides, I found us another companion.”

The boy looked at me like he hadn't noticed I was there. “You found an elf!” He slapped the dwarf on the back. “Now we're truly going on an adventure! Come friends, we must hurry before it gets dark!”

I looked sidelong at the boy. “He's taken a blow to the head, I take it?”

“Several!” It was the boy that answered, without a trace of irony. Eadrek just muttered something unintelligible. I sighed and shook my head.

Hours later, darkness had fallen and we were still slogging along the road. I was at the edge of demanding a stop when I spotted a fire among the stand of trees ahead. A moment later, the other two noticed it as well.

“Ah, a fire. Perhaps we could request to stay around it as well tonight, it would make things easier. We could sit around it swapping stories of our virtuous acts,” the boy said. I started to point out that maybe drawing attention was a bad idea under the circumstances, but he had already picked up the pace towards it. As Eadrek and I caught up, we could see a large tent had been erected, as well as what looked to be a butchered bear. “Let us hope that is not the bear we are looking for,” the boy commented, too loudly.

“What's this about a bear?”

He gave me an odd look and pointed. “The bear right over there. Perhaps you should part your hair!”

I blinked. “What?”

“I was attempting to rhyme.” He looked as if this were the most natural thing in the world to have said.

“You are an odd one.”

“Exceedingly,” chipped in Eadrek.

“It might be worth considering that you're on this road looking for something dangerous, perhaps?” I tried to shift the conversation back towards a sensible topic.

“Yes.” The boy seemed not to have understood. He looked back at the camp. “Tent!”

“We have no idea what's inside that tent. It might very well be your blood mage.”

“I would so love if it were blood mages. But, we cannot assume that!” He resumed his march towards the camp.

I looked at Eadrek. “Do you have any way to silence him?”

“Only one.” The dwarf chuckled darkly.

“Hail, travelers!” The boy bellowed from the edge of the camp.

I sighed. “Well, so much for discretion.”

From inside the tent, I heard a muffled thwack, followed by a man's voice. “Ow! I let you into my tent and this is how you repay me?”

“There are people outside.” A woman's voice, heavily accented. Free Marches?

“People? Bandits! Quick, get dressed!” A moment later, the tip of a staff poked out from the tent's flap, followed by the man holding it. A moment later, a woman with a small sword followed him. I noted that she had a number of cuts on her limbs, probably from the bear. I hoped it was from the bear.

The boy immediately drew his sword. Eadrek put his hand to his axe handle, too, but had a bit more restraint. I simply stood. My staff was already in hand, and I was little use in a fight in any case.

“I don't suppose any of you would consider talking first?” I had to ask, at least.

“An armed and armored dwarf, an armed and armored... boy, and...” The man from the tent started to say, but the boy cut him off.

“I would thank you not to call me 'boy.' I am Blaen, son of Drell.”

The woman nudged the man with her elbow and nodded in my direction. “Is this the blood mage you were talking about?”

“I am not a blood mage.”

“Oh? Do not listen to her lies, she is attempting to influence your mind,” he replied.

“How do we know you are not the blood mage!” The boy, Blaen, interjected.

“What is your obsession with blood mages?” I asked, looking around. All these shemlen are insane.

“What do you know of blood mages, ser? Clearly you are not trained in magic,” said the mage from the tent.

“I could say the same of you,” Blaen shot back.

“Quite, yes. I have no idea what magic could be whatsoever,” the mage deadpanned, shifting his staff in hand.

“I've seen your blood mage,” Eadrek said.

“Oh, yes, come, let us listen to the dwarf.”

“Wait, are you from the circle?” I asked the mage.

“I am.” His first answer not dripping with sarcasm, I think.

“Maybe my first bit of luck to...”

“More importantly, you killed my bear!” Blaen cut me off.

“Is it your bear?” Definitely a Free Marcher of some description, looking at her. Antiva? I'd met a few Dalish from there when the clans met, and this woman had the same look they'd had.

“First of all, why did he let the bear out of its cage?” It was the mage again.

“We wanted to kill it and gain a reward,” Blaen answered.

“By killing your own pet bear?”

“It was not my pet bear.” Suddenly, Blaen looked angry. “I will cut you! I will cut your throat!”

I started to ready my staff, genuinely believing he might try, but the mage seemed nonplussed. “You will do nothing but char trying,” he said flatly.

“Perhaps you'll try.”

The Antivan cut in. “I wonder what your father would think of you wandering around killing travelers.”

The mage looked at her. “We were warned of bandits on the road, were we not?”

“Could we step back a moment to the part where no one's killing anyone?” My voice may have been a little pleading.

“He's threatenin' to cut our throats with his sword,” the Antivan objected.

“Not you, him.” Blaen pointed at the mage.

“I'm with him.”

“He's not a likable fellow.”

“It'd be like me threatenin' to cut Dalish's throat for no reason!” She pointed her sword at me as if she might do just that.

“What did I... Why would...” I started to object, but she kept going right over me.

“It's the same thing, see what I'm sayin'?”

“Because we're mages and they think they can just walk right over us,” the mage offered unhelpfully.

Blaen shouted over the whole babble of voices that followed. “I think the elf was saying something.”

I sighed and tried to get to a vaguely civil conversation. “I am Halani, First to Keeper Dieran of Clan Omosherae. And you are?”

“Enchanter Garrick of the Circle of Ferelden. What do you mean, First? Keeper?”

“The keeper is an elder, of sorts. I am his apprentice."

“Mmm. So you are not part of the circle.”

“Allow me to delay answering that to ask another question. Is she a templar?” I indicated the Antivan.

“Does she wear the templar's armor?”

“I'm a templar now, Garrick?” Her voice was disbelieving.

“Well, she might, but you were... whatever it was you were doing in there.”

“Yes, how dare we actually make camp!” Garrick was back to sarcasm. And not answering the question, I noted.

“Preposterous,” the Antivan concluded.

“And I notice you haven't answered the question.”

“I did by telling you to use common sense. She is not in heavy armor, is she? She is not a templar. She bears no markings.” This was, for Garrick, apparently the height of common sense.

“Yes, well, today I have found that common sense is somewhat... lacking.”

“Common sense runs well with the people of Ferelden. Are you not from these parts?”

“Not exactly.”

“I see. So where do you hail from.”

I blinked. “I already told you.”

“Where exactly do you hail from. You told me a clan; I don't know where the clan is. Or were,” he mused.

“Are you not familiar with the Dalish?”

“I can't say that I am. Just stories of the wars.”

“Well, allow me to enlighten you. We travel.”

“So you're nomads?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting. I've seen elves before, within the circle, and I hear about the alienages within a city, but Dalish? You seem so... different. How do I know you're not just making this up?”

“You really have no idea, do you?”

“I can't say that I do. I've never met anyone who claimed to be Dalish.”

“And you haven't heard the stories?”

“I've heard that long ago men and elves went to war and that men won. With it came the downfall of the elves, and we placed them into alienages. Those who harbor magical talent are brought to the circle, the same as us men.”

I gritted my teeth. “... Largely enough accurate. My people are... survivors who would not... Well.” I gestured at my vallaslin, the mark of Mythal tattooed on my face. “Who refused to accept your Maker and surrender.” We are the Dalish: keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path. We are the last of the Elvhenan, and never again shall we submit. Words every Dalish swore when they received the mark of our gods, and a part of the reason the shemlen hated and feared us so. Eight and a half thousand years of history had shown us the cost of not defending that vow.

“Heretics then. Lovely. Well, I'm sure the templars killed not a few of you.” Garrick chuckled, and I disliked the man even more than I already did. “You've encountered templars, I assume? That's why you asked about them earlier?”

“Yes. Quite.” I didn't hide the chill in my voice.

“Surprised they let you leave. Astonished, in fact. To have an apostate such as yourself slip from their grasp... Ah, they are getting worse.”

“They didn't.” I felt no need to clarify that I'd fled, rather than fought, not to this pompous fool. “What is it these templars of yours are meant to do, anyway?”

“Well, they hunt down rogue mages, apostates, and generally either drag them back to the circle or execute them. As the Chantry teaches us, magic is meant to serve man, not rule over them.”

That was more or less what I'd thought, albeit with more unthinking hatred of magic and less unthinking hatred of elves in general than I'd supposed. I'd mostly been told to avoid templars whenever possible. “So, what is it you're doing outside your circle, then?”

“I've been sent out with, well... I probably shouldn't tell, especially to bandits.” He shook his finger at me. “Clever, though.”

Blaen, meanwhile, had occupied himself with pestering the Antivan woman. “Can I take this as you knowing my father?”

“Indeed, I do. I believe I took refuge with...”

I confess, I was by that point rather more upset with Garrick than I ought have been, so I barely paid it any attention. I caught something about the Antivan having stayed with Blaen's family when he was small, but little else. At length, the conversations finally merged back into one.

“Well, are we going to fight and possibly kill each other, or can I sheathe my weapons?” Blaen sounded utterly unconcerned, as if either alternative were equally appealing. Thankfully, the Antivan answered by sheathing her blade, and Blaen followed suit.

Garrick spoke up again. “So if you're not bandits, and one of you is a Dalish and the other a dwarf... And Sofia, you know this one?” The last was addressed to the Antivan.

“Indeed,” she answered.

“And you were prepared to call him a bandit?”

“He did threaten to slit your throat, and I didn't feel much like chatting at the time,” she replied, nonchalant.

“He was being bothersome,” Blaen complained.

“And someone was being eager for battle, were they not?”

“Well, someone killed the bear I was after.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Well, there goes that ten silver I wanted,” Blaen whined.

“If it's any consolation, your father asked me to pass this on if I encountered you about your travels.” Sofia produced a letter and handed it to Blaen.

I was, at this point, thoroughly baffled by what was going on, but by the activity around me it seemed some agreement had been reached to stay here for the night. Instead of involving myself further in the madness that apparently comprised shemlen interactions, I focused on something I did understand and set to work cleaning and dressing Sofia's wounds. Fortunately for her, they were light for anything caused by a bear, and I decided she needed little more than a poultice and bandages for the moment. Thereafter, I did as I had done before on my journey to Redcliffe and climbed a tree to sleep.

I woke before dawn, which made me the first to rise in the camp. I took the opportunity to at least vaguely clean myself, which made me feel a bit better when compared to a coating of dust and sweat. By the time I had done that and brought back water, the others were stirring. It seemed that some agreement had been made to travel together towards Lothering, which I didn't feel like challenging at that point. Lothering was, at least, towards the tower.

The trip passed awkwardly, and I was thankful when Garrick and Sofia left our company upon reaching the town. After a few minutes, I resolved to try the chantry in Lothering. Leaving my staff with Eadrek, I approached the building. That apparently helped, since neither of the templars outside challenged me, though they did give me odd looks. Inside, a number of humans were busy praying, led by a woman who I assumed was the leader. I chose to wait, not wanting to give offense when I was there to ask for help, which left me standing there awkwardly fidgeting with my skirt. I had a nervous habit of doing that which I hadn't managed to break, unfortunately. Anyway, I was waiting for the better part of an hour before the Chantry woman dismissed the rest. I supposed her song was pretty enough, but it was more than a little uncomfortable for me for obvious reasons. Nonetheless, as the others left, I approached her. She looked surprised to see me, as if she hadn't noticed me standing there. “Oh, ah, hello there.”

“Hello.” I felt I was polite enough, but I really had no idea about how she would expect to be greeted.

“You... You're one of those Dalish? Are you here to convert?” The poor woman looked halfway terrified.

“No...” I blinked. I hadn't expected that question.

“Then what can I do for you?” She actually seemed curious now.

“I am Halani, of Clan Omosherae. I, ah... My keeper sent me on a mission, and I understand that I need to speak to someone in the Chantry for it.” I paused, then decided to take a chance. “I need access to a library; I'm afraid it's a matter of life and death. My keeper suspects your circle may have what I'm looking for?”

“Oh, my. I... I'm not in a position to give you access to the tower. I'm not sure they'd even allow you to do so... Maybe one of the grand clerics could give you access? I could try to write to one and see if there is a way.” This offer made her, in my eyes, the single friendliest and most helpful human I'd yet met. “I take it something... wrong... has happened?”

“Yes. I would... prefer not to speak of it at length.”

“I see. I'm afraid I'll need to know some details, at least enough so I could inform the right people of your intentions.”

I thought for a moment. I would be gambling with lives if I told her, but I might not have another chance. The price of failing was too high not to take the chance. “Then... may we speak in private?” She nodded and led me to a side room, what appeared to be an office. While she took a seat, I reached into my bag and produced the amulet.

After studying it for a moment, she looked up to me. “This is beautiful. What is it?”

“That is the question,” I replied. “My clan... we found it. It seems where it was there is some sort of curse, but we don't know how to undo it. Hence, a matter of life and death.”

“I see.” She produced paper and a quill. “Could you tell me about this curse, what warrants the urgency?” I gave her a brief description of what I'd seen, which she noted down. “That does sound dire. If such a curse were to spread, it would be disastrous.”

I nodded. “We would see that prevented also.”

“I will have this sent to one of the grand clerics and beg for extenuating circumstances on your behalf.” She frowned. “Do you mind if I draw the amulet?” With my permission, she added a sketch to her notes. “I'm sorry there isn't more I can do. I am Mother Ava.”

It was better than I'd expected after my last visit to a chantry. “Thank you. There... is one other thing. Before I came here, I visited the chantry in Redcliffe. I had a confrontation with the templars there, and I was forced to flee the village. I thought it best that you hear it from me first.”

Mother Ava gave me a sympathetic look. “That's unfortunate. I'm sorry you were treated that way.” It sounded genuine. “From what I understand, things have been hard for many templars, and the stress has been getting to them,” she explained. I nodded. “Well, thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will make sure this gets to the proper people and hopefully get you access.”

“Thank you.”

“It is good for the Chantry to strengthen relations with the Dalish.”

“Peace is beneficial to us all,” I hedged.

“Well, is there anything else I can do for you, Halani?”

“Not at this time. You've already done more to help than any other I've met.” I paused. “Among my people, at least, it's customary for someone asking for aid like this to perform a task if it's asked of them. Do you require something of me?”

Ava shook her head. “Nothing that I can think of. Just walk in the Maker's light.”

I chose to not take offense at that; she seemed sincere enough that I didn't think she had meant any. “Very well.” I collected the amulet and tucked it back into my bag. “I am a healer. Should you have need of me...” I shrugged and turned to go. “Thank you.”

When I returned to Eadrek to collect my staff, he looked up at me and grinned. “Care to go bandit hunting?”

“Simply for its own sake, or in search of your lady?”

“No, I intend to follow the trail up to their leader.”

“Capturing one alive is preferable,” interjected Blaen.

I thought about it for a moment. I had made progress with Mother Ava, but this grand cleric of hers might be less inclined to help an elf. And the dwarf had promised to help me if I helped him. “All right, I see no harm in it.”

“Excellent!” Eadrek let go of my staff and looked around. “Now where did those other two go...”

JadedDM
2015-01-26, 01:07 PM
Wow, I can't say I blame Halani for being confused. I'm not a sheltered Dalish elf and I had trouble following that conversation, too. :smallbiggrin:

Curious, but everyone keeps calling Blaen a 'boy.' Are we talking like a young teenager? Or an actual child?

Also, hey, I guess they rebuilt Lothering. That's good. Is that canon? I haven't played Inquisition yet, so I honestly have no idea.

Telasi
2015-01-26, 02:16 PM
Blaen is 16 and acts less mature than that, so definitely a child to Halani (who is 35, for comparison). For the PCs who aren't old enough to be his mother, I think it's mostly that he's still the youngest character and his psychopathic manchild tendencies.

Lothering doesn't show up in Inquisition, to my recollection, so no idea if that's canon. I'd imagine they would rebuild, since the Dalish ending in Origins allows for Anora/Alistair/both to give the southern hinterlands around Ostagar to the Dalish, which in turn implies it's habitable.

As for following the conversation, the rest of the characters are pretty much crazy, trolling the elf, or both. I tried to make it as readable as possible while keeping the actual things said the same, but it was really hard to patch together with everyone talking over each other and changing topics randomly. If you're having trouble following who's saying what, I guess I could start color coding the PCs, but that's about all I've got for clarifying that at the moment.

JadedDM
2015-01-26, 02:50 PM
Oh, no, that's alright. I think the way you wrote it really helped portray Halani's own confusion on what was going on. The reason I had trouble following is that everyone kept talking about stuff without any explanation. Like the stuff about the bear or Blaen's father.

I didn't mean it as a criticism of your writing skill.

Telasi
2015-02-01, 05:06 PM
Update! A bit shorter this time, since I felt a blow by blow account of combat (which happened a few times this session) wasn't terribly interesting. I abstracted it out and hit the highlights, but it's not the focus. Not a great session to be Halani IC, though OOC it was fun. Also, our GM is starting to get frustrated with Garrick and Sofia's players, for reasons that should be obvious.


Chapter 2
In Which Our Heroine Is Not Comfortable With This

“Hail there, travellers!” The bandit actually sounded cheerful as he waved for us to stop.

“Good morrow,” Eadrek replied, similarly nonchalant. “How can we help you today?”

“Well, you see, if you're headed to Denerim, I'm going to need you to empty your pockets.”

“By whose authority?”

“Ours. We own this stretch of road.”

“That so.” Eadrek's voice was flat as he surveyed the half dozen bandits ahead of us. “Afraid you're outnumbered. I'd suggest you leave now.”

I looked at the dwarf as if he'd gone mad, and I was not the only one doing so. He might have, for that matter; there were five of us, if one counted Garrick and Sofia, against six of them. The bandits shared that thought, apparently, since they started laughing. “Apparently you can't count, dwarf,” jeered the leader.

“I'm giving you one chance to leave here unharmed,” growled Eadrek, “and to stop harassing people using the road.”

“Not likely.” The bandit turned to say something to his men, but he never got a chance. Eadrek's axe was out in a flash as he charged the bandits. I leapt aside as a bandit drew has bow in my direction, the arrow whipping past my shoulder rather closer than I was comfortable with. With no real alternative, I dropped the amethyst tipping my staff towards him and focused my power into hurling sparks from it. The miniature lightning bolts connected, throwing the man to the ground in a twitching heap. Alive, I thought. The battle was about that one-sided overall, lasting only a few moments before the bandits broke. At least one escaped, though Sofia had wounded him with her bow as he ran, but Blaen and I had both disabled our opponents alive, while Garrick had killed one and Eadrek had slain two by himself.

This, apparently, incensed Garrick. “Go with the Maker! Return to his side, and may he forgive you of your sins,” cried the mage. A bolt of fire from his staff killed the bandit I'd fought before anyone could stop him.

“Wha... Why... Why would you do that?!” I was as much angry as I was surprised.

“What the hell? He couldn't even fight back,” chimed in Blaen.

“No, he certainly couldn't.” The mage's voice was unrepentant. “And we were... what? Going to take him prisoner and torture him for information? Do you even know what that's like? I will not see a man suffer in such a way. End his misery and send him to the side of the Maker.”

“You idiot!” Eadrek bellowed as he stomped back towards us.

“This coming from the bloodthirsty dwarf whose first reaction was to try and kill as many humans as he could, berating them on the way? None of this had to happen, dwarf. Without your bloodlust...” Garrick sounded genuinely upset.

I removed myself from the argument and started checking on the man Blaen had wounded. He had a gash across his arm, and blood matted his scalp. I tended his wounds as best I could, but thankfully neither of his injuries looked like it would be immediately fatal. Eventually, the argument in the background quieted, and Eadrek stomped over to me. “How's this one coming along?”

“He'll live, I think. I wouldn't swear to anything more, at this point.” I looked up from my work, noting Garrick and Sofia leaving as I did so.

“Excellent,” Eadrek mused, stroking his beard. “We're going to need some information.”

I gave him my best stern look.

“Ah, don't look at me that way. I'm not as bloodthirsty as the circle mage claims I am, but I will do whatever's necessary to assure the safety of my Lady Aeducan. They've got to have a fort to fall back to, that seems a good place to start.”

Like it or not, I might need the dwarf's help to save my family. I stood aside.


***

“Good afternoon,” Eadrek growled to our prisoner.

“****e,” came the groggy response.

“Try not to move too quickly. That was quite a blow to the head,” I cautioned the man.

“And if you want to avoid more of those in the future, I suggest you give us the information that we're looking for.”

“Nng... Well, you see, my favorite color is blue...”

Eadrek grabbed the man by his collar and jerked him up. “Tell me where the fort is! I'm not going to ask you nicely again.”

“Eadrek, stop!” I interjected, but the dwarf ignored me.

“It... it's not even an actual fort, it's just an abandoned house. We hang out in the basement,” the bandit's voice was pleading.

“Where! Is it! I don't care what it actually is!”

“It's down the road a bit, off to the side by a dirt path.”

“Thank you. You've been more than kind.” Eadrek dropped him, less than gently. I managed to catch him before he hit his head again, barely.

“How many of you are there,” Blaen asked. No response; Eadrek had done his head no kindness throwing him down like that. I could see that more treatment like this would likely kill him in his condition, so I reached out for my power and put my hand to his forehead. A pale green light washed over him, knitting his wounds shut as it advanced. It wasn't much, but I hoped it would help.

“Thanks, that actually feels better,” he said to me, then muttered under his breath. “Mages and their weird ****.”

Blaen repeated his question.

“Forces, forces? It's mostly just the guys, I mean, my boss got tangled up with some weird Vint lady...”

“'Vint lady?'” asked Eadrek. “The hell is that?”

“Tevinter,” I supplied. “Surely you've heard of Tevinter?”

“Only that it's a human place.”

“They're ruled by mages. Blood mages, I think?”

“That doesn't sound very appealing.”

“Eh, she pays really, really well,” said the bandit. Both of us blinked and gave him funny looks.

“What does she look like?” I tried to get the conversation back on topic.

“Haven't seen her. All I know is coin's been flowing with our group since she started hanging out with boss.”

“Did you see any dwarves in your fort?” Eadrek asked. A shrug. “Am I to take that as a 'no?'”

“Am I allowed to go home, or are you going to just kill me? 'Cause I'm starting to get, y'know... Not that I mind the knife-ear putting her lovely hands all over me, but...” I very quickly made sure my hands were removed, not terribly liking that train of thought.

Eadrek looked from me to Blaen. “Well, I don't care if I have to go through two hundred of these bastards to get to the Lady Aeducan. Neither of you are scouts, I take it?” I shook my head in answer. “Well, in light of that... Blaen, you're gonna come with me. We really have only one option here; we're gonna hit 'em hard, and we're gonna hit 'em fast. Halani, you give as much support as you can.”

“I don't think that's wise,” I objected.

“I don't care if it's wise. I have to find the Lady Aeducan,” Eadrek growled threateningly.

I turned back to the bandit. “What's the name of your boss?”

“We just call him Darkwater.”

“Darkwater? Does that mean something to you surfacers?” Eadrek again.

“No,” I answered.

“He's just drunk a lot,” said the bandit.

“Ah, I see,” Eadrek chuckled. “We just call those a duster.”

“Anything else you think might be helpful in this... enterprise... not ending in a bloodbath one way or the other?” I was skeptical, but it was worth a try.

“Turn back, go to Lothering?” The bandit's answer was halfhearted.

“Sorry to say, Halani, there's only one way this is going to end.” A self-fulfilling prophecy, I thought dourly as Eadrek continued. “I guess two, but call me an optimist.”

“We could always try to speak to them,” suggested Blaen.

“After they tried to rob us and we drove them off? I highly doubt it,” Eadrek dismissed the idea.

“We've gotten our revenge for them attempting to rob us. We could always try to speak with them. Reason with them,” Blaen persisted.

“They seem like a reasonable bunch? I gave them a perfectly reasonable request. Didn't take it then, why would they take the next?”

“I'm simply suggesting another course of action.”

“So... May I go now?” asked the bandit.

I sighed and dug in my bag. “Here, take these. Once a day, make a tea, drink it, and find yourself something better to do with your life.”

“And make sure you're in clear view of the outhouse at all times,” Eadrek mocked. I found myself wishing I didn't need the dwarf. Still, neither of the others cut him down as I helped him to his feet and sent him back down the road to Lothering. Small victories.


***

“What do you think, Halani?” Blaen asked.

“What more do we possibly need to know? Our enemy is over there, we need to go conquer them.” Eadrek pointed his axe towards the burnt remnants of a house that served as the bandits' “fort.”

“We need to know what we're dealing with,” Blaen calmly answered.

“And how do you suggest we get this information? We don't have anyone who can do any reconnaissance.”

“We may not have a scout, but that doesn't mean we can't look,” I suggested.

“From a distance, of course,” added Blaen.

“I suppose that's true,” the dwarf conceded. “We can try that first. You Dalish like the forest, don't you?”

I didn't deign to answer, but I probably was the best choice, being neither bulky nor weighed down by armor. With a sigh, I slipped left, circling around the clearing for a better view. A handful of bandits – I counted four – sat in the ruins. After watching them for a moment, I continued around the edge. Nothing new was immediately obvious, and I was just preparing to make my way back when I happened to look again at the tree next to me. On closer inspection, part of the trunk near the base had been replaced by a painted panel. It was well done; I hadn't noticed it at a distance, even with my good vision. I glanced back towards the guards; they seemed to be playing cards more than they were keeping lookout. I pulled opened the panel. The tree, it seemed, was hollow, with a trapdoor set in the bottom. I crouched down and gingerly lifted the trapdoor. A narrow, steep flight of steps led down into a dim passage; beyond that, I couldn't tell. I hesitated, then ducked into the hollow and inched down far enough to see inside. That was a mistake.

“Hey, did the boss send for another whore?”

“He does like them pretty elf girls.”

I cringed. The speakers were a group of five rough-looking men, I assumed more bandits, drinking at a makeshift table. The passage ended in what looked like a storeroom only a few feet from the bottom of the stairs, and they'd spotted me as soon as I had entered. “Well, I do need to speak with your boss,” I hedged, weighing my options. Now they were alert, and the nearest was only just out of reach. Running was sure to draw chase, and if I weren't caught trying to get out of the trapdoor, the guards above would most likely cut me off. Even if Blaen and Eadrek could fight nine men and would even bother trying to save me, the bandits would have had plenty of time to kill me either way. If I stood my ground, there was a chance I could bluff my way through, or that they would let their guard down enough that I could escape. Then again, they might... I crushed that line of thought before all the ways this could end badly stole my courage, steeled myself, and did not run.

“You sure you wouldn't want more interesting company, darlin'?” This from the nearest of the bandits.

“I'm sure I would, but I've yet to find any here,” I tried my best to look haughty, or at least not terrified.

“Aww, now don't be that way,” the speaker continued despite his friends' laughter. “Come down and have a drink. Mostly piss-water, but it ain't that bad.”

I refused the cup thrust at me. “No, thank you.” This apparently was an invitation to the shemlen, as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me into his lap.

“Ah, the boss always has really pretty ones.” My attempts to disentangle myself did no good; he wrapped one arm tightly around my waist while the other started lifting my skirt. I shifted the tip of my staff towards his face in response.

“Sorry, but you're starting to become an inconvenience at this point. You're delaying my business,” I said, not having to try hard to add a chill to my tone. “Would you maybe care to reconsider your position?”

“But I like this position,” he leered. He tried to swat the staff out of line, and I braced to keep it steady. “Don't be that way, we just want to have a little bit of fun.”

“Hmm. In that case...” I put on what I hoped was an icy smile and shifted the tip of my staff to point at his eye. “What kind of fun to you think I care for?” I let the implied threat hang.

It worked, sort of. I was released anyway, but the man seemed more amused than anything “All right, all right.” I quickly stepped out of reach again, leaving my staff angled vaguely towards the group.

“If the little knife-ear wants to play mage, let her pretend,” another muttered.

I struggled to appear calm. “Good, you're learning.”

“Ah, she's one of those types,” the mutterer laughed.

“So, what is your name, then? Or did you just want me to call you 'mistress'?” The handsy one actually winked at me.

“I suppose that will do for now,” I said, trying to look imperious. Not exactly easy, given I was off balance already and the smallest one in the room. “I believe you were giving me directions?” I contnued quickly to cut off the flurry of crude remarks that followed. “To your boss.”

“So, who hired you to come by, anyway, mistress?”

“An acquaintance of master Darkwater,” I replied vaguely.

“With the staff, probably that Vint lady,” suggested the mutterer.

“Ah, so you do know her.” It was a chance, at least, so I took it.

“I've seen her once,” acknowledged the handsy one. He took a deep drink, and most of the others did likewise.

“I see she made an impression, from that reaction.”

“Creepy, is what she is.”

“And now you begin to understand why I'm here.”

“More creepy mage, ugh... magicness. I'm not one for more religious preaching, but I get why the Chantry ties up their mages.” Not an innuendo, for a change. That was progress.

“Yes, well, you all do seem to be a little squeamish about such things.”

“Well, if you're not one of the ladies, what did she send you here for?” They were starting to take on a more serious demeanour.

“To check on progress, of course.”

“Isn't that what those other mages are here for?”

“Just so. I was waylaid on the road from Redcliffe.”

He looked skeptical. “You don't seem as crazy as the other ones.”

“Well, maybe that just makes me the friendly sort. Or maybe I just hide it better.” I smiled, and I saw some genuine fear start to show on their faces. “I'm sure you've heard how most elves fair in Tevinter.”

“You her personal pet?” The handsy one, who I took for the leader, asked, seriously.

“Well, you're certainly not my type,” I non-answered. They seemed to take it as an affirmation, and the leader looked deeply unsettled by the idea. Probably regretting his behavior.

“Look, you want us to go get one of your colleagues?”

“Certainly, but as amusing as it would be to have that discussion in here, I think the atmosphere would be rather more... sanguine... than you'd appreciate.” I smiled. They might not have understood the wordplay, but they certainly understood the tone. “That being the case, I suppose I'll wait outside, shall I? Don't answer that; run along now.” I waved towards the door behind him in a shooing gesture, then made my way back up the stairs.

On the surface, I urgently waved Eadrek and Blaen to circle around to me, then sagged against the side of the tree. What I'd just done had been rash and more than a little foolish. I'd been very lucky or very blessed to be able to escape alive, never mind learn what I had. I breathed a quiet prayer to Mythal, to be safe.


***

The hooded man emerged from the hollow tree, a bandit on his heels. I held my power closely, staff in hand and as ready for battle as I could be. Eadrek and Blaen crouched in the bushes nearby, waiting to spring on the mage.

“Fool! She is not...” The rest of his sentence was lost as I unleashed the spell I'd been holding. Both men were hurled to the ground amidst the sound of thunder, struck by the burst of energy I'd unleashed between them. Eadrek hacked down the bandit as he struggled to stand, while Blaen yanked a bag over the mage's head and looped a rope around his wrists. I turned, ears still ringing, to meet the guards charging in from the ruined house. A bolt from my staff collapsed one, and then Eadrek was among them, the dwarf's axe cutting down two before Blaen finished the last one.

Eadrek paused only a moment before charging down the stairs, the boy on his heels. I trailed them, but the narrow passage left me no room to add to the battle below without risk of striking my allies. The two warriors were in among the bandits who'd accosted me earlier, one of them already dead on the floor. Blaen struck down another, but his blow took him far enough from Eadrek's back to leave the dwarf open. I wasn't the only one who saw the opportunity; the muttering bandit slipped into the gap and stabbed into the dwarf's back with his sword. Eadrek roared, blood pouring from the deep wound, but he spun and swept his axe through the man's gut as I leapt forward to heal the dwarf. The force of the blow carried the man's body into me, throwing me to the stone and soaking me in blood. I managed to struggle halfway out from under the dead weight to complete my spell, but that was the extent of my contribution to the battle. By the time I struggled to my feet, four of the five were dead, and their leader had fled.

Eadrek's wound was not fatal, and with my spell, he didn't seem unduly bothered by it. The dwarf nodded a brusque thanks, and then pressed deeper into the fort...

JadedDM
2015-02-03, 04:16 PM
Wow, so Garrick and Sofia just took off? Good bluff job, by the way.

By the way, I wanted to ask, but what level is Hanali and what spells does she know?

Telasi
2015-02-03, 04:37 PM
Yes, they did. Again. They tried at the end of last session while I was busy in the Chantry, and they ran the exact opposite direction of the plot in the first session, too. Hence the GM frustration.

Halani's stats
Name: Halani, First of Clan Omosherae
Background: Apostate (Elf)
Class: Mage
Level: 2

Communication: 1
Constitution: -1
Cunning: 1 (Natural Lore +2)
Dexterity: 2
Magic: 4 (Spirit +2)
Perception: 2
Strength: 0
Willpower: 2

HP: 25
MP: 26
Def: 12

TALENTS
------------------------
Novice Lore

SPELLS
------------------------
Heal
Mind Blast
Levitate
Arcane Bolt


Those of us who participated in the bandit fort just leveled at the end of last session, so Arcane Bolt is new, as is the Spirit focus for my Magic. It's basically a 100% combat effectiveness buff :smalltongue:.

As for bluffing, thank you :smallsmile:. I had a bit of an OOC derp moment that made that necessary, but it worked out more or less okay.

Greymane
2015-02-04, 04:09 AM
Yes, they did. Again. They tried at the end of last session while I was busy in the Chantry, and they ran the exact opposite direction of the plot in the first session, too. Hence the GM frustration.

Man. That is the worst. Why are those two even playing if they're doing everything in their power to not follow the plot? And I thought your first encounter with them was crazy enough. Are they two buddies who aren't that interested in RPGs and are just going fully against the grain as a means of attention and self-amusement?

Other than that, it's a fine read. Dragon Age (Origins, anyhow, can't speak for Inquisition because I haven't played it), has always been centered on characters and their individual motivations and trials. I think you're going through that beautifully.

Questions!

Is the GM using a pre-made module, or using his own plot?

How is the system, mechanically, so far? I've wanted to give this game a shot but I was unsure I wanted to spend the money on it when I could spend it on, say, 5e instead or something.

Why were the templars so willing to let an apostate wander away from them? It's like, their job to grab rogue mages. Admittedly, I'm not sure how they'd treat dalish mages. I just assumed they wouldn't care to make a distinction.

JadedDM
2015-02-04, 05:00 AM
You can actually download a set of 'quick rules (http://freeronin.com/dragon_age_rpg/DragonAgeRPGQuickstartGuide.pdf)' for Dragon Age that are completely free. They don't have all the mechanics in it (including leveling up and all of the spells and talents), but there is just enough to play a short adventure (included in the pdf) to give you an idea of how the game works. I'm running it at the moment, trying the game out myself, in fact.

If you have the time, you can also watch the episodes Tabletop (with Wil Wheaton) did on the game. There are two episodes, both are about half an hour long. Here's the first (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y-61i3R5y9Y), here's the second (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=He4xdGizuww).

As for the Dalish mages, that's always been a grey area for the Chantry. Templars know about the Keepers and their Firsts, but largely leave them alone rather than upset the already tenuous human/elf relations, so long as they behave themselves.

Telasi
2015-02-04, 05:00 PM
Man. That is the worst. Why are those two even playing if they're doing everything in their power to not follow the plot? And I thought your first encounter with them was crazy enough. Are they two buddies who aren't that interested in RPGs and are just going fully against the grain as a means of attention and self-amusement?I don't know them well at all; Garrick's player is an acquaintance of the GM who got brought in to fill out the group because he knows Dragon Age, and Sofia's player is only here because they're sort of a couple. My impressions of them have not been positive thus far, but apparently they behave better in other games, so I'm trying to give them the benefit of the doubt. Operating theory is that Garrick is trying to get to Denerim and steal his phylactery.


Other than that, it's a fine read. Dragon Age (Origins, anyhow, can't speak for Inquisition because I haven't played it), has always been centered on characters and their individual motivations and trials. I think you're going through that beautifully. Thank you. :smallsmile: And Inquisition is awesome, and still has lots of character-oriented fun.


Questions!

Is the GM using a pre-made module, or using his own plot? She has her own plot. Don't know any details besides what's in the blog and what I've gathered from other people's intro sessions, so there's not much to say.


How is the system, mechanically, so far? I've wanted to give this game a shot but I was unsure I wanted to spend the money on it when I could spend it on, say, 5e instead or something. Honestly? It needs work. Weapon damage (excepting greatswords and similar) is way too low for the amount of defense armor provides and the amount of HP non-mages have; combat is a bit of a slog as a result, barring luck to get high-value stunts (basically critting) that boost damage. It feels a lot more like a D&D 4e game without the nifty powers (another complaint, that) than a Dragon Age game. Also, there is no real customization in chargen; it's rolled stats straight down (with one swap of any two rolls), then pick a background that gives you some random stuff and whichever class you have the stats for, take your pre-selected gear, and go. I'm actually really disappointed, since I've played other Green Ronin games that were good, but this system feels like the bastard of D&D 1e and 4e with Dragon Age flavor slapped on top. I would still recommend it over what I've seen of D&D 5e, however.

Good points of the system are that it's simple; the only things you'll need to look up regularly are the stunt tables. The stunt mechanic is interesting and makes combat a little more fun sometimes.


apostate[/I] wander away from them? It's like, their job to grab rogue mages. Admittedly, I'm not sure how they'd treat dalish mages. I just assumed they wouldn't care to make a distinction.

As for the Dalish mages, that's always been a grey area for the Chantry. Templars know about the Keepers and their Firsts, but largely leave them alone rather than upset the already tenuous human/elf relations, so long as they behave themselves.What JadedDM said is correct. It's just not worth risking pissing off the Dalish to get a handful of the best-trained and guarded apostates in the world under Chantry control. The Dalish have had centuries of experience keeping their mages from wrecking things, which also helps.

For what it's worth, though, I didn't want to deal with the Chantry in the first place to avoid confrontations with the templars, and I've been VERY circumspect about using magic anywhere near civilization in order to make sure they have absolutely no reason to start yelling apostate. They have, however, been a pain in my ass when they do come up. I sort of glossed over it because I didn't know IC, but we actually missed a subplot in Redcliffe entirely because I (and thus Eadrek and Blaen after involving themselves) got run out of town for even tangentially letting on I was an apostate.

Telasi
2015-02-22, 01:30 AM
Finally, I'm back. We've had no session the last few weeks for missing players, but we finally had one this week anyway. Eadrek's player was still missing, but the GM finally decided to autopilot him so we could play.


Chapter 3
In Which Things Get Worse

Eadrek's steel boot smashed open the next door, revealing a spartan room. A pair of hooded figures wielding staves turned from speaking with the handsy bandit from before, who bolted for a flight of stairs down as soon as he saw us. Nobody had a chance for words; Eadrek bellowed and charged at the mages, axe raised. The mages reacted quickly, hurling fire from their staves at the charging dwarf, but it didn't matter. I managed to snap off a spell of my own, but then the dwarf was upon them, Blaen not far behind. It was over a moment later.

The stairs ended at a doorway, the door itself hanging ajar in the bandit's wake. Blaen, faster than Eadrek and less cautious than I, pushed through it without pausing. It opened on a large chamber, a heavy stone table at its center and a quartet of stone pillars holding up the high ceiling. Two more mages stood at the table, accompanied by a huge man in armor, a heavy axe slung across his back. More shapes flitted about in the gloom, and I shuddered as I realized what they were. Shades. I started to warn Blaen and Eadrek, but it was too late.

“Surrender!” Blaen's shout echoed in the room.

“If that means you're yielding to us, of course,” the big man replied. He stalked around the edge of the table, settling his helmet over his head and grasping his axe.

“I'd really rather not. I was hoping you'd surrender to me,” Blaen shot back. Eadrek settled himself beside the boy, between the pillar and the doorway. Neither seemed ready to back down, and the big bandit grinned as he stalked forward.

A shade loomed out of the dimness, swiping a spectral claw at Blaen. The boy stumbled, biting back a scream, and the bandit lord took the opening to charge Eadrek, exploiting his better reach to land a smashing blow on the dwarf's pauldron. The dwarf returned the swipe, low, but the impact threw his aim off. I was dimly aware of a spell discharging in the background, but my attention was focused on the demon attacking Blaen. I leveled my staff and concentrated. The spirit shrieked, a piercing, unnatural sound, as my bolt of pure power lanced through it, but another and another crowded in to take its place. Eadrek clashed with the bandit lord again and reeled away, a ragged hole torn through his mail and into the flesh beneath. I leapt in as he fell, turning what should have been a mortal wound into a vicious gash, and he managed to roll aside from the bandit lord's finishing blow as I scrambled back to my feet. More shades resolved themselves around us, pressing in from all sides as we put our backs to the door. The bandit we'd followed here lunged at Blaen, striking sparks from the boy's shield with his sword. I spotted the mage in the gloom just a moment too late; a bolt of fire struck the left side of my body. I screamed, staggering back through the door from the force of the blast. For a moment, everything resolved into terrible clarity. The bandit swung at Blaen again, his blade being deflected off the boy's shield... and then he buried his dagger into the boy's arm. Shades pressed in on Eadrek as he struggled to fend off the giant bandit, pulling at the dwarf. The wound on my side burned, underscoring the creeping despair settling over me.

I turned and ran.


***

Behind me, the shades gibbered and moaned as I scrambled up the steps. I turned quickly down the corridor I thought led to the surface, trying to hold back panic as I ran. Left, then right through the next door, then up again... Heavy footsteps shattered my train of thought. A knot of armored humans emerged cautiously from a door ahead... the same one I needed to go through. The woman in the lead shouted as she saw me, and the others fanned out across the hallway ahead of me.

“Throw down the staff, mage,” the woman took a careful step closer, her sword poised. Behind me, the shades lurked closer, their presence adding threat to the words. I glanced from the knot of grim-faced bandits ahead to the horde of demons behind, desperate for a way out, any way, but none appeared. My mad rush had cracked the burnt skin on my flank, and I could feel a thin trickle of blood oozing down my hip. Stone pressed into my back; I realized I had backed into the wall without meaning to. The bandits closed in around me, weapons ready. I took as deep a breath as I dared with my wound in a vain attempt to steady myself, thought of my children, and released my staff.

The bandit was none too gentle as she spun me into the wall, pulling my arms behind me. After a moment, I felt a cord wrap around my wrists and pull tight, biting into my skin sharply. A hand gripped my hair, pulling me away from the wall and my head back. Another shoved a rag into my mouth, and then the woman holding me shoved me to my knees. A musty-smelling bag shut off my sight, and then something hit the back of my head.


***

I woke slumped over, hard stone pressing against my stomach. I tried to rise, nearly panicking, but my arms were bound to something in front of me, so all I managed to do was make the pain in my stomach and side worse.

“The sacrifice is awake,” a bored man's voice said. That chilled me, for I knew that at least some of the mages here practiced blood magic.

“No, no, she's more valuable alive,” interrupted a woman's voice. A small hand settled on my back, and I felt the speaker perch on the table's edge next to my hip. “Isn't that right, my pet?” The latter, I was sure, was directed at me. The hand on my back traced upwards for a moment, then pulled the bag from my head. I struggled to blink away the tears blinding me. My captor was a small woman, dark-haired and fair-skinned, dressed in the robes of a Tevinter magister. As I turned to see her, she leaned down and kissed me lightly on the cheek. “After all, I do have you to thank for bringing my Key to me.” Her finger traced the edge of something looped around her neck, glinting green and gold in the dim light. The amulet. “For that, and because I am amused by the little story you told my servants, I will grant you a boon. This,” she produced an athame, “is the worst you have to fear while in my keeping.” One of the other mages slipped a basin beneath my arms, and she set the tip of the knife against my wrist. “Count yourself fortunate.”


***

After she was done with me, I was thrown in a dank room with a handful of other prisoners. Eadrek and Blaen, by some miracle, were there, injured but alive. I couldn't face them, even look at them, not after what I'd done. It hurt more, I think, that she was true to her word; I had to sit, bound as I was, and watch while the bandits came, see the others be beaten and dragged away for their blood to be taken and gods know what else. Some never returned: a boy named Caudry on the second day, and a woman called Iyanna on the sixth. I was taken twice more; as a mage, my blood was better, they said. I barely cared. As far as I could see, I had already failed the moment I lost my freedom, and the amulet with it. My people – my own family – would die as surely as if I had killed them because I was a damn fool. Fen'Harel was surely somewhere close, laughing at me. Oh, yes, you found someone who knows about the amulet, and merely at the price of any chance of saving them. Well done. I cursed myself for a coward, cursed fate's cruelty for choosing me, cursed the damn dwarf who'd persuaded me to do this, cursed impotently at anything I could think of to blame for this. I wept and begged my captor, just as I wept and prayed to any gods I could name. It did no good. In the end, I had no more tears to shed, and I couldn't summon any more self-pity. That was when I remembered what I was, and I truly understood what my ancestors had meant when they swore the Oath. Not just what I was, but who I was. I wasn't the first elf to be beaten, and maybe I couldn't undo that I had been, but I didn't have to let myself be broken. By the gods, I was a mage, I was First, and my personal demons were all too literal sometimes. I'd carried Arafen through the Blight, and counted it little cost next to my son. I had seen my husband and my sister off to Denerim to answer the Warden's call, and seen only one come home. I, Halani, had known struggle and loss and pain before, and it had never broken me. Maybe I was a healer and not good at fighting, but that didn't mean I had to be weak. So long as I lived, I could try to finish my task. I just needed a chance. There had been talk of moving the last time they'd taken my blood, maybe that would be it...

JadedDM
2015-02-22, 04:48 PM
"We are the Dalish: keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path. We are the last of the Elvhenan, and never again shall we submit!"

Glad to see this game is still going. I was worried there a bit that maybe it fell apart.

Out of curiosity, just how many shades were there? Anyway, hopefully Halani can get free and visit some Velanna style justice on these shemlans!

Telasi
2015-02-22, 08:47 PM
"We are the Dalish: keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path. We are the last of the Elvhenan, and never again shall we submit!"

Glad to see this game is still going. I was worried there a bit that maybe it fell apart.

Out of curiosity, just how many shades were there? Anyway, hopefully Halani can get free and visit some Velanna style justice on these shemlans!

That was the idea in my head, yuppers. Figured personal reasons were better long term, though.

I wasn't sure it hadn't fallen apart myself for a couple of weeks. I'm looking forward to seeing how we get out.

There were six actual shades we saw at various points, but it was really just one that did anything. The fight was a completely one-sided affair that was really just embarrassing for us due to bad dice and good luck for the enemies. I dramaticized a bit to make us look less like chumps, since I have explicitly been given dramatic license.