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The Dalish Curse: A Dragon Age Adventure

[div class="container"] [div class="characterImage"] [div class="characterName humanName"] SITHIG [/div] [div class="characterTitle humanTitle"] AVVAR MERCENARY [/div] [div class="tagsContainer" style="display: none;"]
Health: 34/34
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“Well, I can try to stand again.” he said, and began to do so. He stumbled a few times, and his knees were shaking like nobody’s business, but he was upright. It was a start. Sithig stayed on the lookout with Kata, though his vision was too blurry to make anything specific out.
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Jason


Jason met Brenn's eyes easily “We are all bred to die” voice toneless as he holds out 11 silver through the bars “some lives simply end faster than others”

Taking a step back he crossed his arms focusing instead on Eshra as she spoke, brows furrowing in confusion; he had been so sure it was the Blight wolves. What more could possibly be coming?

“There was more at the farm,” Jason muttered partly to himself as Brenn walked away “Someone had written in Dalish on the wall, nothing I could read, unfortunately, but it would seem someone is going to great lengths to prove your clan are murders”

He took a step forward looking at her critically as she swayed arms dropping from an aborted attempt to steady her.

“You do not look in shape to be doing anything, but I cannot stop you. I will come and I have people with me I believe may be willing to help as well”
 
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Blacksmith
Master Coalan.jpg

Much of the village could be viewed in secret from the foliage the forest provided; where Kata and Sithig found themselves now was not too far away diagonally from the jailhouse, hidden behind the home of one of the locals. In front of the jailhouse door, Brenn could be seen, his arms crossed as he spoke with a passionate middle-aged man wearing a dirty blacksmith's apron. The man gesticulated wildly as he spoke with the guardsman, but Brenn remained unmoved, simply shaking his head and shooing the man away. The man stood for a moment staring at Brenn silently before returning from wherever he had come.

KATA & SITHIG ROLL FOR PERCEPTION
/r 3d6+PER+Focus #**HEARING**


Eshara's eyelids fluttered in confusion at the mention of 'Dalish writing,' practically ignoring everything else that had been said.

"Writing? In Elvhen?" He had already said he had been unable to decipher it, and even among the Dalish few were allowed the privilege of learning to read and write the language, but as an assistant to the clan's Hahren, she had learned some. Her grip tightened on the bars as she felt another wave of heat come over her. It was probably nothing, but if it was she had to know. "Dirth ma, can you remember it? Did you copy it- or, could you take me to see it? If it is a message from someone in my clan it is vital!"

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[div class="container"] [div class="characterImage"] [div class="characterName humanName"] SITHIG [/div] [div class="characterTitle humanTitle"] AVVAR MERCENARY [/div] [div class="tagsContainer" style="display: none;"]
Health: 34/34
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Oh, there were a couple people talking. He couldn’t quite see who they were, but they sure were talking. Sithig’s ears were ringing far too loudly to make out any words. In fact, if it weren’t for him hearing a “the” in there a couple times, he wouldn’t be sure they were even speaking the trade tongue. Looked like they were arguing, though.
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Jason


"I wrote it down and smeared it off would be foolish to leave a note in the blood of a corpse" Jason pauses before reaching for the map "I do hope your trust in Brenn is correctly placed"

Rolling out the map for her to see but not quite touch had him suddenly thankful for the bars between them. He wasn't about to hand the thing over just because they found her hurt at the barn, although it did put something in her favor. Jason liked to tend to the side of caution and avoidance when available.

"I hope it means more to you than it does to me"
 
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The Dalish elf's brows furrowed at the mention of her trust in Brenn, but she said nothing, more interested in the chalk wording crudely scrawled onto a map of some sort. She stared for a moment, her lips moving as she internally sounded out the word. "My-Mythal...Mytha-oh," she blanched suddenly. "It's him," her voice wavered, "Mythallen, the so-called 'Child of Vengence,' who leads the darkspawn that have been attacking my people..."

Brenn entered with a deep sigh, once again locking the door behind him. It only took him a moment to notice the look on the troubled elf's face. "Eshara? Is everything alright?" He took a moment to shoot a glare at Jason before helping Eshara back to her chair, but Eshara herself seemed almost as though in some sort of trance, lost in some perturbing memory.

"Our band visited this village just two weeks ago, during their the Harvest Festival," she began softly. "We were welcomed, as we usually were on the years our travels coincide with the festival, but there was trouble... The locals had too much to drink, and there was a confrontation between them and some of our younger men. Harsh words were exchanged, and Harralan, one of our hunters, the Keeper's son, attacked the big blacksmith."

"Coalan," Brenn nodded, offering Eshara a small handkerchief to wipe the tears that were beginning to form in the corner of her eyes. She took it with barely an acknowledgment.

"The village's warden, Brenn's father, separated them before it could get out of hand, but still the damage was done... we were no longer welcome here and we moved on as soon as the festival ended. Harralan was angry at our treatment, but our elders assigned him the duty of scouting as we made our way through the Brecilian Forest, to give him time to cool off— he's always been a bit hot-headed." She dabbed the handkerchief to her eyes slightly. "As you know, he was the first to disappear; he simply didn’t return from his scouting one night. Then other scouts and hunters began to go missing, as did the ones sent to look for them... The elders decided we should go back, but by then it was too late. Three days after Harralan disappeared, before we could reach the edge of the forest, they attacked our camp: darkspawn emerging from the trees in the dead of night. My people were taken. Those who fought were beaten or killed," her voice broke and Brenn put a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she continued to tell her tale.

"I was captured along with the rest, taken to an ancient ruin in a rift valley deep in the forest, off the trails. The master of the darkspawn is a creature, an abomination! He calls himself Mythallen, Child of Vengeance... I was brought before him, and then to his chambers, but I managed to escape. The darkspawn pursued me, accompanied by a pack of strange beasts. I was wounded but managed to avoid them, hiding among the trees and gullies in the forest for more than a day, always moving, never resting for long," she took a deep breath, as though just recalling the memory had her lungs pained from hours of running. "I stumbled upon the farm where you found me and managed to conceal myself in the hayloft. I heard some of the farmers coming… The darkspawn must have followed me and attacked. I remember their terrible screams… Then, nothing until you found me. When I saw you, I thought you were Harralan... I thought—" her words broke off into soft weeping.

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