"Lacking a Templar, you are the expert, Tyrus." Erin didn't like their prisoner one bit, and him not just being a mage but a rogue one at that, made her ideas about containment very limited, beyond outright killing him. "Maybe we should gag him for the night, so he can't cast any curses." She suggested from absolute ignorance.

The firewood closet in Ginny's home has about a dozen pieces of split wood stacked in a crib end formation. There are small gaps near the roof for airflow, but not large enough for a person to slip through (unless Fenwithe is practiced in shapeshifting magic - and he's shown no aptitude in that specialty, in Tyrus' mind).

The group clears the closet of firewood and installs the apostate within, and the men of the homestead take turns guarding him overnight. Fenwithe doesn't make a fuss, and is actually found still dozing when they're ready to depart in the morning.

The women of the homestead say that Erinn the she-elf is too weak to travel, and will likely need several days more before she's well enough to do anything but rest. They promise to look after her while the others are gone. Nolan decides to accompany the heroes, especially since they're travelling overland; he knows a few trails that will shave off a bit of time here and there, and a good spot to camp along the way.

So, with Nolan, Garreth, Mairet, and a Fenwithe-laden cart in tow, they head for Lothering. The group arrives in the village as the sun begins to touch the western horizon; the arrival of such a large party garners some interest, and soon the knowledge that they have a prisoner in tow spreads throughout the village like a wildfire. Who the prisoner is doesn't matter much, but that their own Erin, Fost, Wendoll, and that strange Tevinter mage fellow have apprehended a "ne'er-do-weller." It seems like half the village - the mayor included - is accompanying them and cheering them on by the time they reach the Chantry steps.

Of course, the commotion draws the attention of the clerics, and Ser Ragnall and Reverend Mother Ilannea greet them at the door.

"What a procession you bring us this eve; one would think the Divine herself was visiting," the reverend mother declares, her tone neutral, though the twinkle in her eye seems to indicate the crowd behind the heroes is at least a bit amusing. Then, with more authority in her voice, she asks, "Did you find the culprit Ser Andra was seeking?"

The burly warrior waved good-bye to the villagers not really expecting to see them again any time soon, if at all.

Fost was somewhat startled by the welcome.
He had been a mercenary for most of his life and as such coins were all the thanks he had come to rate as meaningful. Reputation, fame even, were slippery things, hard to gain, easy to lose. And you could not eat and drink it either. Not that you could eat coins but with those you could buy the things you graved for. Indeed, or so he had always thought, you could also buy reputation.

Soon, however, he found himself grinning and enjoying the attention, nodding and clasping hands with those he came to see as the people of his home. For indeed, Lothering had become more home than the tiny hut in which he had been raised.

Still grinning but sobering up fairly quickly at the sight of the Church representatives.
"We did.", pointing at the bound apostate.
"His victim was too weak to join us. Possession, if I have understood everything right. You might want to check on her in a week or so. She is called Erinn, a female elf. Besotted with this apostate she willingly accepted the foul work but we deemed her innocent."
He hestitated.
"I have to admit that I would rather have killed the foul mage myself. In that I failed my raising. I was convinced to bring him to the Church's justice and the ward of the Templars."

Tyrus was smiling broadly when he finally left these farmers and the whole business behind him. Yearning for a nice soft bed and some good food and drinks, he walked near the front as they made their way to Lothering.
Contrary to his behavior on the way back, Tyrus falls back behind Fost, seemingly trying to stay out of sight which, to be honest, was a rather challenging thing to do with the crowds surrounding them and the wagon. He made his way to the revered mother and Ser Ragnall. "The mage is in the wagon, I wasn't sure what the punishment is for practicing magic without the circle's permission but I thought it best to deliver him here." He leans a little closer as not to alarm the townsfolk "I believe there was a desire demon working through the girl. She's still back on the farm and needs time to recover from her ordeal. I'd advice to send someone as soon as possible." He steps back and looks around "Is Ser Andra here? How is she?"

Erin for one was a victim of the contagious excitement of the gathering crowd, it wasn't every day that the folks of your hometown greeted you as some kind of hero. She was very much content, basking and participating in the cheering, at least until they came to the presence of the Revered Mother. She was very much happy and pumped but still having been raised well enough to show a modicum of respect and serenity to her position and status. With Fost and Tyrus having said all that needed to be said, Erin limited herself to nodding, particularly when the inquiry about Ser Andra's wellbeing was made.

"The she-elf is not a mage, then?" Ser Ragnall wonders.

Nolan steps forward. "She is no mage. Erinn was a servant in Fenwithe's household; her father was a warrior by trade, and she had received some training in that regard by him, I'm told," he says. "Only when the demon took her did she appear to have access to magic, and hasn't woken since the demon was destroyed."

The reverend mother nods to the responses, then extends her arms. "We will place no more burdens on the she-elf named Erinn, unless she begins to exhibit signs of arcane prowess," she decrees. Ser Ragnall nods his assent, though it's impossible to tell from his demeanor as to whether he agrees with it or not. The reverend mother then addresses Nolan directly, "Young man, I take it that you are able and willing to speak as to the circumstances that led to the encounter with these, my agents in this matter?"

"I am and I will, Reverend Mother."

"Very well, we will see to that in the morning. Ser Ragnall, please take charge of your prisoner," she adds. Turning to the others, she continues, "Now, as to your question, Master Tyrus, our beloved Ser Andra is in her bed, recuperating; and she is well, thanks in no small part to your efforts. She has expressed an eagerness to thank you in person upon your return.

"But, I'm sure you are due for a hot meal and a comfortable bed, so leave that 'til morning."

The whole village celebrates that evening in and around Dane's Refuge (and how much each of you participate is up to you. Garreth and Mairet stay up for quite a while, but Nolan is beat and seems inclined to retire earlier.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:31, Wed 18 Oct 2023.

Thanking the revered mother, Tyrus waits until he's more or less alone with his three companions: "Well, I;m glad this is over. I had a little more excitement than I bargained for and I've to commend you on your battle prowess. Without the three of you I wouldn't have come far." Turning to Erin he asks: "Is there a learned person in Lothering? Someone that would have books about its surrounding area and its history?"

I just noticed, we're not getting paid for this, perhaps someone in Lothering will offer free lodgings and some food? Kind Evil GM, are we getting XP for completing the quest?
This message was last edited by the player at 01:57, Wed 04 Oct 2023.

Fost offered his assistance in the handling of Fenwithe to Ser Ragnall since the other resident templar was obviously still recovering from her dramatic rescue at the cursed tree.

The warrior was still unsettled by the whole affair. So many demons that had passed through some gate of sorts to menace the region. He did wonder what Fancy's plans had been in the long run. Did a desire demon plan anything at all or just live at its own whims? For that matter, what had been Fenwithe's ultimate agenda? It did look like his only focus had been to be together with the unholy creature.

Fost decided that he would address these uncomfortable thoughts to Ser Ragnall. What could be done to really get down to ending the threat. Was it truly over? What would happen to Fenwithe? Not that he expected to be introduced to templar procedures but he felt compelled to at least ask.

Later Fost joined the celebration. He did make sure, insisted vehemently in fact, that it was not to be a celebration of the four companions (and don't dorget Wendoll's trust canine) bit should instead be rejoicing the fact of a safer region because the situation had been dealt with. Even so, he could not help but enjoy telling of their roles in it.
Luckily his physique allowed him to drink and eat a lot without becoming too much of an embarrassment.

Ser Ragnall gratefully accepts the warrior's assistance and provides some insight on Fost's uncomfortable thoughts.

- Powerful desire demons do have a sense of determination. They can think, plan, and execute their plans. He doesn't believe all desire demons have that ability, as some may just be the manifestation of that raw emotion, and he'd have to defer to Fade experts in the Circle as to what elevates raw desire into an aware, thinking demon. That this demon took a name - Fantasy - reflects that it had that self-awareness; that made it very dangerous.

- As to Fantasy's plans, however, Fenwithe may be able to speak to that; or, perhaps, the she-elf may retain some memory of it. That said, Ser Ragnall is a bit fuzzy on the subject of possession, and he's only seen what possession does to a mage (i.e., abomination); when Fantasy was in charge, he has no idea if Erinn was even aware of what was going on. Again, he thinks the Circle mages would have greater insight.

- Regarding the passing of demons into the world, there are places everywhere where the Veil between the waking world and the Fade is easier to penetrate; at least, that's how it was explained to him. Areas of great emotion, like a battlefield or the site of a massacre - because all demons and spirits are manifestations of emotion - draws spirits to it. Stronger ones may be able to push their way through, and that's how demons get in. They don't last long without possessing a living thing, and he was told that "once living things" are the same to demons...which is how you get those horrible corpses the party dealt with when rescuing Ser Andra.

- Fenwithe, he says, will be taken by him to Kinloch Hold and the Ferelden Circle. There, the First Enchanter and Templar Knight-Commander will determine his fate. It's likely he'll be executed for his crimes, but it's possible he'll be made tranquil instead; Ser Ragnall says Tranquil unnerve him, and believes death is a more merciful punishment. (Fost would have heard of Tranquility; it's a rite that strips an out-of-control mage of emotion and severs their connection to magic. Tranquil are believed protected from being possessed, but no longer experience emotion.)

- He explains that, as a Templar, he's able to suppress magic and drain mages of their mana reserves; he'd prefer to have Ser Andra with him, but he might have to make the trip alone if she's still not well enough to go with him. It's a bit of a trek.

Fost listened gravely to the templar's explanations and could not help but wonder if he might learn more at Kinloch Hold.
Without much thought put into it he blurted his offer to accompany Ragnall to the Ferelden Circle.

"I'd be glad for the company - especially competent company," Ser Ragnall responds. "I'll make the arrangements with Reverend Mother in the morning."

At the celebration Fost curbed his thirst for alcoholic beverages and told his friends about his offer to the templar.
"Truth be told, I think I got carried away quite some.", he said with a chuckle. "I was very willing indeed to just kill Fenwithe if you recall. Now I am willing to bring him even further along a possibly dangerous road ahead."
"Perhaps you care to join me?"

Tyrus, who was still nursing his first drink, lowers his mug. "Carried away? Where are they going to bring him?"

"Well, yes. I was asking him a couple of questions that were nagging me in the back of my mind, sort of. Much about how the templars go forth in identifying, finding and fighting people like Fenwithe."
"How does one learn whether a mage is sane", he nodded to Tyrus, "or is scheming madness."
"When you had your knock-out that day I was wondering about your awakening, wondering wether you were ... hurt... beyond mere unconsciousness. And how would they even know that if they do not know the person in question? Among ourselves we would have been able to determine if you had gone insane. Some change in behaviour. Question is: how do you know that it's serious. Nolan and Erinn had the indications but failed to realize the severity."
"Ser Ragnall mentioned Kinloch Hold.", Fost finally answered the question.

Tyrus listens, his brows furrow when mentioning his little mishap. "Indeed, Fereldens are known for their distrust in magic." He takes a much larger gulp from his drink "Not like every farmer and their moms are running around with daggers, swords and bows." It's clearly a bit of a touchy subject. "Because we can trust everyone that carries a weapon of some kind." He decides to ignore Fost's last remark and instead looks down into his cup.

Fost chuckled at the comparison.
"It's the difference of knowing whether something bad is going to happen."
"If the farmer draws that sword from its sheeth you know he will use it."
"Most people have no idea when a mage is going to let loose some awful magic."
"Plus, you know what to expect from a sword: cuts and thrusts and blood spilling."
"With magic you could end up being burned or frozen and you would not have any idea what is going to happen. It might just be a tiny flame to lit a pipe or a roaring fireball destroying a whole building."
"It's the uncertainty that we don't like."

Placing his hand on his face he inhales deeply before replying. "It would be nice if magic were always invisible but it needs movement, intonation and concentration. Only because most people fail to recognize this doesn't mean it isn't visible." He seems to calm down a little, looking down at his cup "It's true that there are bad mages... something we've seen not too long ago. It's true that there's potential for great damage. A single mage can cause great harm. Though as you should never draw your sword, a mage should never start casting a spell in presence of others." Looking away he seems to remember something from long ago.
"I remember my time in Asariel, no Magister would dare to cast a spell in another Magister's presents. Casting spells is seen the same as drawing a blade. It doesn't matter if you're trying to heal a cut or to freeze your opponent."

The evening's revelry extends well into the night, bolstered by a sense of relief that has blanketed the village. Having had news of Ser Andra's experiences, the people of Lothering had become concerned about apostates summoning demons left and right; even some of the families in the outlying farms abandoned their homes and took refuge in the village for a couple of days.

The next morning, the party is back at the chantry, where the reverend mother pays them their 150sp each, as agreed to nearly a week ago.

"Because you went further than your mandate, found and stopped the apostate, and returned him alive to face judgment by the Circle," she says, "I wish to reward you with these gifts of the Chantry."

They are surprised to find Ser Andra come out from another room, carrying the first of four items; Ser Ragnall and a young sister carry three other items between them.

- To Fost she gives a veridium longsword that was once wielded by a great and pious warrior of the Steel Age. The blade is named "Streathern's Edge" in his honor.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Treat the weapon the same as a Longsword, but reduce Minimum Required Strength by 1 and you gain the benefit of +1 Tier in the Weapon & Shield Style talent (the blade is perfectly weighted for use with a shield), meaning you can use the Journeyman benefit as a Novice, or the Master benefit as a Journeyman; note that veridium is a special type of metallic element in Thedas

---

- To Erin she gives a suit of drakeskin heavy leather, worn by Sophia Brewster, who fought in the rebellion against Orlais.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Treat the armor as Heavy Leather, but reduce the Armor Penalty by 1

---

- To Tyrus she gives a yew war staff wielded by her great uncle Hobarth, who died defending his family against Orlesian mercenaries. She says he was the last mage of her line. The staff is thicker than his own and capped with a blown-glass-like blue crystal that is framed by six branches that meet at the tip.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Treat the the weapon the same as a Quarterstaff, but receive a +1 to hit with Arcane Lance

---

- To Wendoll she gives a yew longbow that was donated to Lothering chantry by a Dalish warrior who was infirmed here for a time in the last Age.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Treat the weapon the same as a Longbow, but reduce Minimum Required Strength by 1 and increase Short and Long ranges by 10% and 25%, respectively.

---

Ser Andra presents each hero their gift, expressing her heartfelt gratitude for rescuing her as she does so.

Ser Ragnall then asks the reverend mother if the quartet could aide him in escorting Fenwithe to Kinloch Hold, since Ser Andra needs more time to heal. She agrees, and offers them each 6sp per day (which is more than four times the daily rate for mercenary help), plus supplies for the journey.

Tyrus, having drank little the night before, felt perfectly fine and allowed himself to smile with pride. Instead of bowing in deference like the slaves back home he simply nods his head as he'd seen his Magister doing many a times, keeping his eyes on the reverend mother.
Accepting the staff with both hands he runs his hand over the shaft up to the blue globe but stopping before touching it. "I thank you for your generousity. It is a mighty present indeed. I  am glad I was able to capture this criminal." He listens to Ser Ragnall's suggestion and the reverend mother's offer "Kinloch Hold? Isn't this where the Circle of magic is here in Ferelden? What are your plans with this mage?"

Yay! Money and goodies! Did we get enough XP to level up?

Fost was quite awed by the gift, though he probably had never heard of its original owner.
Regardless, even without unsheathing it he noticed the quality and the weight.
Only when Ser Andra nodded at his obvious anticipation to draw it did he does just that and slowly, carefully made a couple of slashes and mock parries.
He whistled in appreciation and said his heartfelt thanks vowing to himself to be worthy of it.

---

rolled 11 using 3d6+1 with the AGE System with rolls of {6}, 3, 1.  CUN, Streathern knowledge

"For me?" Erin said as she hugged and squeezed the sister that her the armor. "Thank you so much!" Only her good upbringing binding her excitement enough not to torment the reverend mother or the ailing Ser Andra in a similar fashion. "I'm just glad you are alive. Imagine that, Orlais beware!"

Hearing about their new assignment, Erin nudged at Fost. "I would have never guessed working for the local watch, even at such a big town, would be so much excitement. It's a life of adventure at Lothering, wouldn't you three say?."

Tyrus turns to Erin "Big town? I guess for Ferelden it is a large town indeed. While I personally have never set foot into Minrathous, I've seen it from the distance. Stone spires rising up above the lowly houses of those less fortunate. Mansions and towers as large as Ferelden towns. My own Magister's abode was a lot smaller than those. Still those with time on their hands could take a stroll in her gardens for half a day without having seen all of it." 

We can move on with the scene, just roleplaying a little.

"That sounds more like a fortress or palace than a town to me." Erin wasn't too well traveled, only the maker knew how she imagined the places Tyrus described. "Towns are supposed to have houses, families, farms, a chantry, a market... Not just... Gardens and towers."

Fost chortled at Tyrus description, clearly not believing a word.
"Surely you are exaggerating my friend. Even if these mansions were as large as you imply, there's no way there are so many people anywhere! Imagine all the food and drink requirements! No fields could feed so many people."
He did not mock his friend, though, but simply did not even imagine this could be true. Fost had been raised at the edge of the mountains to the west, less densly populated than the region around Lothering.

Turning to Erin he smiles "There are houses and markets enough. There's even supposed to be the largest chantry in all of Tevinter. It's just that the rich and powerful are the same in Minrathous. Not like in other places where many a useless son or daughter inherits all but wouldn't be able to defend it against a rabid dog."
Hearing Fost's statement he laughs quietly "Perhaps! Isn't this with most grand cities and towns? Of course I can only attest to what I've seen. Minrathous is larger than anything I've seen in Ferelden. Farms and fields span the area before its mighty walls and fields of brown and green being toiled by farmers." He shakes his head "I'd not want to live there though. Too many people and too many ambitious mages."