(IC) Dragon Age Pathfinder

[Toxic Mind]

Denerim. The crown jewel of Ferelden. A city of life, of sound, of endless light. But no longer were those lights the lights of a city of trade, but rather the fires of war. It had been a week since the Archdemon was slain. Even now the fires are barely being put out. But today is not a day to mourn the loss of life. For today, the King will deliver his speech, deliver his proclamation to his subjects. It was decided by Queen Anora that in respect of those lost, that a week of mourning would be observed before any celebration would be had.

All of you did your part in the Blight. For Yedis, it was from the Brecillian Forest, with the rest of your clan, coming to fight in Denerim's back alleys, your spells cutting down the fell servants of the Archdemon. For Dali, a dwarven templar, accompanying the remaining mages of the circle, warding your charges from darkspawn in the Market district, your lyrium given powers cutting down a Hurlock Mage. And for Saarebas and Jimbo, it was on the steps of the palace that your earned your honor, Saarebas driving his fists into the flesh of a massive ogre, while Jimbo rained bolts down on its head, finally felling the beast.

It was for these actions, and the actions of your brothers and sisters, that you have been invited to the palace in Denerim to hear the King's speech. It is a resounding hit among the nobles and the commoners and soldiers. Anora's parts are obvious, working with the preservation of the land and the power of Ferelden. But Alistar shines through in his glorifying of the bravery and courage of the common soldiers. He calls to all of you to remain strong, to help him restore Ferelden to what it once was.

And then it is done. There is a party, of course, but for you, the work is just beginning. No matter what the King says, Ferelden is in tatters. Infrastructure is shattered, supply lines cut, and the South of Ferelden still teems with Darkspawn. And one way or another, whether your Captain ordered it, your dreams willed it, or your employer paid you to, that's where you are headed. To the South, to the Wilds. Reports have come in of a powerful magic wielding Hurlock who had gathered together many Darkspawn. Scouts had returned from the area recently with the news, and the Ferelden Army deemed the threat worth investigating. But this is not a problem for a legion of troops, but a small squad, capable of moving quickly and hiding, of exercising judgement beyond the scope of orders. Hence, you.

Which leads you to the gates of Denerim, your gear assembled. The scout captain is waiting for you. "Welcome. I hear you are in charge of cleaning up the Darkspawn in the Wilds. I lost four men to that bastard. He's not stupid like most of the Darkspawn. He's cunning. And he can use magics. If you get a chance, kill him fast."