The year was 9:41 the second day of Verimensis in the Dragon Age, the smell of the First Day...
Dragon Age: The Call of the Inquisition
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The Tale of the Inqusitor, by Varric Tethras.
Doomed Wombat
Let's go Darling!
- Location
- Dancing on wires!
The year was 9:41 the second day of Verimensis in the Dragon Age, the smell of the First Day celebrations dying away as the people of Haven return themselves to the grim and sober realities of their situation.
For months' people have come from across Thedas, weary Clerics with their entourages, grim Templars, paranoid mages, the representatives off all nations great and small. All turn and look towards the high point, the last hope for a continent that has been embroiled in war, some mundane and more recently supernatural.
The Grand Conclave of the Divine, called by Divine Justinia to bring an end to the madness that had sized the Mages and Templars. For weeks now bitter arguing had held the pinnacle, the hatred they held towards one another over riding common sense and reason, only the charisma of the Divine keeping them from one another's throats.
All are tired and weary, now only holding out hope of rumours that the Left Hand of the Divine had truly brought a witness, a companion of the Champion, to end this strife, to settle what had happened in the city of Kirkwall, the origin of the turmoil.
Of course, to that one cloistered in the Singing Maiden Tavern nursing a tankard of Ferelden Ale, these rumours were just that. Rumours.
No to that one they were of a different kind, for more were drawn to the conclave than the grand, the righteous and the important, nooo, there were others.
But, still people payed them little mind, as those were mercenaries, gawkers and merchants, but in that tavern sat on a small bench, cloak clasped firmly around their shoulders trying to warm their ass by the fire, was
[X] A Minor Human noble, the symbol of House Trevelan on his belt. Come to aid their family in the proceedings.
[X] An Elf, long of ear with Vallaslin marking them from Clan Lavellen, sent to spy, to see what effects the decisions made here would have on the Clans and the Keepers.
[X] A surface Dwarf, and a member of House Cadesh sent by the Carta to spy on the proceedings out of irritation of how it affected the Lyrium trade.
[X] A Vashoth, a rare breed. A rare breed of Qunari one who was never part of the Qun, and part of the famous mercenary group the Valo-kas hired to keep the peace at the Conclave.
But, even they couldn't delay the inevitable. Rising from their seat and downing the last of their bitter, they walked from the warmth of the Tavern into the pitiless snow, walking up towards the towering mass of the Conclave, passing through the checkpoints with their identification until they reached the centre of it all.
Moving through the postern gate, they told me at first, they saw nothing wrong, but soon little warning signs started popping up. The servants were not as numerous, fewer clerics were arguing the closer they came to their destination. As it someone had sent them away.
They said the doors to Divine Justinia's quarters were shut, but through the wood they could hear the moaning of a woman in pain.
Bracing themselves and calling out to alert anyone nearby, they readied their
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down their foes
[X] Great Axe to obliterate the attackers with extreme prejudice
[X] A staff crackling with Fire to burn them to cinders*
[X] A staff snapping with frost, to freeze and restrain them*
[X] A pair of daggers to maximise their speed.
[X] A longbow to eliminate the attackers from afar.
Dwarfs cannot pick the mage classes, they do not dream*
And burst through the door, to a sight out of a nightmare.
The Divine was suspended above the floor, by tendrils of magic the colour of blood, connected to dull faced men and women dressed in the colours of the Grey Wardens, the Divine struggling and moaning in clear agony as the Inquisitor moved forwards.
"Now is the hour of our victory."
A voice, ethereal and echoing, not truly there, speaking in archaic tongues, emanated from a massive, twisted, hooded figure moving towards the Divine, an orb that seemed to whisper, clutched tight in its talon like hands
"Why are you doing this, you of all people." Spoke the struggling Divine in desperation to the Grey Wardens, who stood heedless of the Inquisitor moving towards them.
"Keep the sacrifice still."
And with that single dismissive and board utterance, it held out its hand the Orb it clutched in a loose grip, as it lit up with green lightning, a nimbus of power erupting forward, as all things seemed to run out of tune.
"SOMEONE HELP ME." And with the last of her strength the Divine of the Chantry broke free, for a single instant and struck the Orb from its hand. Was it luck? Fate? The will of the Maker, or merely chance that lead to this event?
Whatever it was the consequences of it have reverberated throughout Thedas as the Orb, enriched with the ritual it had so recently competed rushed towards the hand of the Inquisitor Anchoring itself there, as pain beyond endurance erupted throughout their frame.
"NOOOOOOO" With a roar of rage and longing the creature charged the brave Inquisitor who stood stunned by pain, could not resist, but before the purple flames manifested by the creature could reach him.
E̖̗̹v̛̪̞͕͓̺̟̲è̬̖ŕ͚y̦̱̖̝͜t̰̼̦̣̬̫͙h̝̤ͅi͇̮̠͜n̨̘g̴̥̤.̡̣̤̟͖̲̯͓
̷̹̦
̻̼̙͟B̠̺̰̱͍͉̭e̪̙̥͉̺̦̖c͍̰͎a̶̤̦͕̦̟̤m̀e͚̙̖̝…̭̼̯
̭͞
͏͖͕̟̜͔W̼̝̲̪̹̥͕͟h̳͕̲̥̬i̘͙̺͍͞t̛͚̩̹̫̼̻e̯͓͓.͓̺̯̬͔͔
̜̣̦͠ͅ
Soon enough they came too, in a dark, place, yet filled with strange and disturbing lights. All around was a constant chorus of crashing blades, sublime music and even animals.
As the Inquisitor looked down upon
[X] Himself
[X] Herself
Fighting back a wave of exhaustion, before looking around this place of madness they saw high above/below, a shining light, a door of some kind and off in the distance.
Massive beyond all scope, blacker than a void of stars, a city hanging in gloom.
"Ohhh, where… where am I."
The Divine, wounded, old, but strong and stubborn she lay at the Inquisitor's feet bleeding on the ground.
Carrying her, they could save her life, but she would weigh down the Inquisitor.
So, in that moment the Inquisitor decided.
[X] To carry her
[X] Put her out of her misery
[X] Leave her
Their decision made, they swung them self over the ledge and began crawling finally upwards, as the constant cacophony around them changed, the sound of a billion chittering, clicks made itself know, as fear gripped the Inquisitor's heart, hardened, but not immune.
Clambering in terror now and rushing towards the gate through which the Inquisitor could see the outside. They felt a pain in their foot, but kept on running, even when a new voice came, one that they could not hear because of their terror they kept on running until at last. They collapsed outside, to the surprised shouts of the men and women readying their blades.
Thus, began the Tale of the Inquisitor.
Let's see how it ends?
I am weak ain't I.
Well I've always wanted to do this, might as well see if I can focus on it.
There might be another section before we get to the bulk of the game (CKii) with missions.
For months' people have come from across Thedas, weary Clerics with their entourages, grim Templars, paranoid mages, the representatives off all nations great and small. All turn and look towards the high point, the last hope for a continent that has been embroiled in war, some mundane and more recently supernatural.
The Grand Conclave of the Divine, called by Divine Justinia to bring an end to the madness that had sized the Mages and Templars. For weeks now bitter arguing had held the pinnacle, the hatred they held towards one another over riding common sense and reason, only the charisma of the Divine keeping them from one another's throats.
All are tired and weary, now only holding out hope of rumours that the Left Hand of the Divine had truly brought a witness, a companion of the Champion, to end this strife, to settle what had happened in the city of Kirkwall, the origin of the turmoil.
Of course, to that one cloistered in the Singing Maiden Tavern nursing a tankard of Ferelden Ale, these rumours were just that. Rumours.
No to that one they were of a different kind, for more were drawn to the conclave than the grand, the righteous and the important, nooo, there were others.
But, still people payed them little mind, as those were mercenaries, gawkers and merchants, but in that tavern sat on a small bench, cloak clasped firmly around their shoulders trying to warm their ass by the fire, was
[X] A Minor Human noble, the symbol of House Trevelan on his belt. Come to aid their family in the proceedings.
[X] An Elf, long of ear with Vallaslin marking them from Clan Lavellen, sent to spy, to see what effects the decisions made here would have on the Clans and the Keepers.
[X] A surface Dwarf, and a member of House Cadesh sent by the Carta to spy on the proceedings out of irritation of how it affected the Lyrium trade.
[X] A Vashoth, a rare breed. A rare breed of Qunari one who was never part of the Qun, and part of the famous mercenary group the Valo-kas hired to keep the peace at the Conclave.
But, even they couldn't delay the inevitable. Rising from their seat and downing the last of their bitter, they walked from the warmth of the Tavern into the pitiless snow, walking up towards the towering mass of the Conclave, passing through the checkpoints with their identification until they reached the centre of it all.
Moving through the postern gate, they told me at first, they saw nothing wrong, but soon little warning signs started popping up. The servants were not as numerous, fewer clerics were arguing the closer they came to their destination. As it someone had sent them away.
They said the doors to Divine Justinia's quarters were shut, but through the wood they could hear the moaning of a woman in pain.
Bracing themselves and calling out to alert anyone nearby, they readied their
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down their foes
[X] Great Axe to obliterate the attackers with extreme prejudice
[X] A staff crackling with Fire to burn them to cinders*
[X] A staff snapping with frost, to freeze and restrain them*
[X] A pair of daggers to maximise their speed.
[X] A longbow to eliminate the attackers from afar.
Dwarfs cannot pick the mage classes, they do not dream*
And burst through the door, to a sight out of a nightmare.
The Divine was suspended above the floor, by tendrils of magic the colour of blood, connected to dull faced men and women dressed in the colours of the Grey Wardens, the Divine struggling and moaning in clear agony as the Inquisitor moved forwards.
"Now is the hour of our victory."
A voice, ethereal and echoing, not truly there, speaking in archaic tongues, emanated from a massive, twisted, hooded figure moving towards the Divine, an orb that seemed to whisper, clutched tight in its talon like hands
"Why are you doing this, you of all people." Spoke the struggling Divine in desperation to the Grey Wardens, who stood heedless of the Inquisitor moving towards them.
"Keep the sacrifice still."
And with that single dismissive and board utterance, it held out its hand the Orb it clutched in a loose grip, as it lit up with green lightning, a nimbus of power erupting forward, as all things seemed to run out of tune.
"SOMEONE HELP ME." And with the last of her strength the Divine of the Chantry broke free, for a single instant and struck the Orb from its hand. Was it luck? Fate? The will of the Maker, or merely chance that lead to this event?
Whatever it was the consequences of it have reverberated throughout Thedas as the Orb, enriched with the ritual it had so recently competed rushed towards the hand of the Inquisitor Anchoring itself there, as pain beyond endurance erupted throughout their frame.
"NOOOOOOO" With a roar of rage and longing the creature charged the brave Inquisitor who stood stunned by pain, could not resist, but before the purple flames manifested by the creature could reach him.
E̖̗̹v̛̪̞͕͓̺̟̲è̬̖ŕ͚y̦̱̖̝͜t̰̼̦̣̬̫͙h̝̤ͅi͇̮̠͜n̨̘g̴̥̤.̡̣̤̟͖̲̯͓
̷̹̦
̻̼̙͟B̠̺̰̱͍͉̭e̪̙̥͉̺̦̖c͍̰͎a̶̤̦͕̦̟̤m̀e͚̙̖̝…̭̼̯
̭͞
͏͖͕̟̜͔W̼̝̲̪̹̥͕͟h̳͕̲̥̬i̘͙̺͍͞t̛͚̩̹̫̼̻e̯͓͓.͓̺̯̬͔͔
̜̣̦͠ͅ
Soon enough they came too, in a dark, place, yet filled with strange and disturbing lights. All around was a constant chorus of crashing blades, sublime music and even animals.
As the Inquisitor looked down upon
[X] Himself
[X] Herself
Fighting back a wave of exhaustion, before looking around this place of madness they saw high above/below, a shining light, a door of some kind and off in the distance.
Massive beyond all scope, blacker than a void of stars, a city hanging in gloom.
"Ohhh, where… where am I."
The Divine, wounded, old, but strong and stubborn she lay at the Inquisitor's feet bleeding on the ground.
Carrying her, they could save her life, but she would weigh down the Inquisitor.
So, in that moment the Inquisitor decided.
[X] To carry her
[X] Put her out of her misery
[X] Leave her
Their decision made, they swung them self over the ledge and began crawling finally upwards, as the constant cacophony around them changed, the sound of a billion chittering, clicks made itself know, as fear gripped the Inquisitor's heart, hardened, but not immune.
Clambering in terror now and rushing towards the gate through which the Inquisitor could see the outside. They felt a pain in their foot, but kept on running, even when a new voice came, one that they could not hear because of their terror they kept on running until at last. They collapsed outside, to the surprised shouts of the men and women readying their blades.
Thus, began the Tale of the Inquisitor.
Let's see how it ends?
I am weak ain't I.
Well I've always wanted to do this, might as well see if I can focus on it.
There might be another section before we get to the bulk of the game (CKii) with missions.
Last edited:
Rules
Doomed Wombat
Let's go Darling!
- Location
- Dancing on wires!
Rules
The Inquisition
Doomed Wombat
Let's go Darling!
- Location
- Dancing on wires!
The Inquisition
Current assets: N/A
Current status: N/A
Current Relations
-Chantry
-Orlais
-Ferelden
-Tivinter
-Antiva
-Nevarra
-Templars
-Rogue Mages
-Circle Mages
Current assets: N/A
Current status: N/A
Current Relations
-Chantry
-Orlais
-Ferelden
-Tivinter
-Antiva
-Nevarra
-Templars
-Rogue Mages
-Circle Mages
Last edited:
Characters
Doomed Wombat
Let's go Darling!
- Location
- Dancing on wires!
Characters
Inquisitor Arlen Trevelyan
Martial: 12+2=14: A skilled commander of men naturally, but you were never trained for the position, you were intended to be a templar, and thus your ability to command beyond your natural charisma is limited.
Diplomacy: 10+4+(4)=14 (18): You are an easy speaker, but you fear often too many people are inclined to agree with you because of appearance.
Intrigue: 9: There are plots around you, but you've never been one to involve yourself or interest yourself with them.
Stewardship: 11: You can manage your own finances passably.
Learning: 9+2=11: You can read, write and do basic maths, much more than many nobles in the free marches.
Will Power: 13+3=16: Say what you will the Templars know how to stiffen a will. It helped that you pitted your will against theirs and found it beaten, but stronger for it.
Piety: 6-2-2=2: You are not pious, a minority in your family usually so subjected to religious sermons, but it is the case, the words your family lapped up simply slid off you like water off a duck and all the beatings of the templar's could not change that.
Combat: 13+3+3+(3)+2+(2)=21 (23) (25): Your natural skill has been tempered and refined extensively through training, both by your family's tutors and then by the harsh treatment of the Templars. With your preferred sword and shield in hand you seem more like a whirlwind of bashing and cutting.
Traits
Stunningly Handsome: White golden hair, fine skin, eyes like sapphires, and easy smiles. You've charmed many a man and woman with your appearance alone. +4 diplomacy, +4 more with some women and men.
War born: You were told that you were born on the battle field when your mother was forced to give birth in a birth during a bandit attack. Whether this was the Maker indicating something you do not know, but it left a definite mark upon you. +3 combat, +2 martial.
Curious: From your earliest days, you have always been looking for new things and new knowledge even when the chantry said not too. While the library of your parents was small you devoured it all. +2 learning easier to earn new traits -2 piety.
Blood lust: When you fight it's like an animal tries to rip itself to the surface. You've found yourself covered in gore surrounded by death. +3 combat -2 piety roll for madness in combat.
Failed Templar: A failure in that you were not "pious" or "controlled" enough for those grim gentlemen, not that you did not have the skills. You simply could not follow the teachings of Andraste and so was thrown from the order. +2 combat, +2 against mages, +3 will power.
Sword and Board Expert: A simple humble fighting style, not as grand as those with great weapons or flashy as mages, but you'd trust your shield to see you through any attack and your sword to eviscerate those that come close. + 3 combat when using a sword and shield, +10 to block rolls +10 to riposte rolls.
Ah Arlen Trevelan, called the bright spark of the family, to be sacrificed upon the altar of the Templars and chantry, an expert fighter in excess of his age, handsome and most importantly pious beyond measure.
That was what mother and father wished for at any rate. Instead you were everything they wanted, more so in fact in the first two criteria, but in the third you were a complete failure. The words of Andraste and the Maker made no impact upon you, only learning the chant of Light out of force and bitterly.
Even the mighty Templars could not break your will and force you to submit to Andraste, instead casting you from their order in despair.
Instead of being banished from the family as you thought it seemed you still had some use to them or maybe they just had some hope for you still, as several months later you were told do go the Grand Conclave.
As if the Divine herself could make you Andrastian.
Martial: 12+2=14: A skilled commander of men naturally, but you were never trained for the position, you were intended to be a templar, and thus your ability to command beyond your natural charisma is limited.
Diplomacy: 10+4+(4)=14 (18): You are an easy speaker, but you fear often too many people are inclined to agree with you because of appearance.
Intrigue: 9: There are plots around you, but you've never been one to involve yourself or interest yourself with them.
Stewardship: 11: You can manage your own finances passably.
Learning: 9+2=11: You can read, write and do basic maths, much more than many nobles in the free marches.
Will Power: 13+3=16: Say what you will the Templars know how to stiffen a will. It helped that you pitted your will against theirs and found it beaten, but stronger for it.
Piety: 6-2-2=2: You are not pious, a minority in your family usually so subjected to religious sermons, but it is the case, the words your family lapped up simply slid off you like water off a duck and all the beatings of the templar's could not change that.
Combat: 13+3+3+(3)+2+(2)=21 (23) (25): Your natural skill has been tempered and refined extensively through training, both by your family's tutors and then by the harsh treatment of the Templars. With your preferred sword and shield in hand you seem more like a whirlwind of bashing and cutting.
Traits
Stunningly Handsome: White golden hair, fine skin, eyes like sapphires, and easy smiles. You've charmed many a man and woman with your appearance alone. +4 diplomacy, +4 more with some women and men.
War born: You were told that you were born on the battle field when your mother was forced to give birth in a birth during a bandit attack. Whether this was the Maker indicating something you do not know, but it left a definite mark upon you. +3 combat, +2 martial.
Curious: From your earliest days, you have always been looking for new things and new knowledge even when the chantry said not too. While the library of your parents was small you devoured it all. +2 learning easier to earn new traits -2 piety.
Blood lust: When you fight it's like an animal tries to rip itself to the surface. You've found yourself covered in gore surrounded by death. +3 combat -2 piety roll for madness in combat.
Failed Templar: A failure in that you were not "pious" or "controlled" enough for those grim gentlemen, not that you did not have the skills. You simply could not follow the teachings of Andraste and so was thrown from the order. +2 combat, +2 against mages, +3 will power.
Sword and Board Expert: A simple humble fighting style, not as grand as those with great weapons or flashy as mages, but you'd trust your shield to see you through any attack and your sword to eviscerate those that come close. + 3 combat when using a sword and shield, +10 to block rolls +10 to riposte rolls.
Ah Arlen Trevelan, called the bright spark of the family, to be sacrificed upon the altar of the Templars and chantry, an expert fighter in excess of his age, handsome and most importantly pious beyond measure.
That was what mother and father wished for at any rate. Instead you were everything they wanted, more so in fact in the first two criteria, but in the third you were a complete failure. The words of Andraste and the Maker made no impact upon you, only learning the chant of Light out of force and bitterly.
Even the mighty Templars could not break your will and force you to submit to Andraste, instead casting you from their order in despair.
Instead of being banished from the family as you thought it seemed you still had some use to them or maybe they just had some hope for you still, as several months later you were told do go the Grand Conclave.
As if the Divine herself could make you Andrastian.
Last edited:
- Location
- England
[X] A minor human Noble, the symbol of House Trevelyan on his belt. Come to aid their family in the proceedings.
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down Her foes.
[X] Himself.
[X] Carry her.
This seems promising, and already I am excited for future updates. Ahh, that "stumbled on a new quest" feeling never gets old.
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down Her foes.
[X] Himself.
[X] Carry her.
This seems promising, and already I am excited for future updates. Ahh, that "stumbled on a new quest" feeling never gets old.
Last edited:
Doomed Wombat
Let's go Darling!
- Location
- Dancing on wires!
- Location
- England
Don't worry, quickly noticed and fixed. I is tired
. But yeah, this seems interesting so far, and could go magnificent places, so I'm rootin' for ya. 
- Location
- Tel'aran'rhiod
[X] A Minor Human noble, the symbol of House Trevelan on his belt. Come to aid their family in the proceedings.
[X] A staff crackling with Fire to burn them to cinders*
[X] Himself
[X] Leave her
[X] A staff crackling with Fire to burn them to cinders*
[X] Himself
[X] Leave her
- Location
- Third planet from the star named Sol
- Pronouns
- He/They
[X] An Elf, long of ear with Vallaslin marking them from Clan Lavellen, sent to spy, to see what effects the decisions made here would have on the Clans and the Keepers.
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down their foes
[X] Herself
[X] To carry her
Solas route is a go.
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down their foes
[X] Herself
[X] To carry her
Solas route is a go.
- Location
- nz
[X] A minor human Noble, the symbol of House Trevelyan on his belt. Come to aid their family in the proceedings.
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down Her foes.
[X] Himself.
[X] Carry her.
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down Her foes.
[X] Himself.
[X] Carry her.
Theaxofwar
Definitely not a Bunny Cat in disguise.
- Location
- Standing right behind you
Well this was unexpected. 
- Location
- Third planet from the star named Sol
- Pronouns
- He/They
Come on guys, humans are boring. Let's be an elf!
- Location
- England
I might be ok with elves, but SOLAS?! The reason any of this happened in the first place? Uh-uh. No way no how. Besides, its nice to go vanilla sometimes. Makes you appreciate the more out-there choices available later on.
Doomed Wombat
Let's go Darling!
- Location
- Dancing on wires!
Probably, should have said this earlier, but questions, I'll answer if I think they should be answered.
Sry, bit tired as well.
Sry, bit tired as well
.Lookie at the tagsI might be ok with elves, but SOLAS?! The reason any of this happened in the first place? Uh-uh. No way no how. Besides, its nice to go vanilla sometimes. Makes you appreciate the more out-there choices available later on.
- Location
- England
Lookie at the tags
My point still stands....Solas has ruined elf characters in Inquisition for me. The Git.
- Location
- Diamond City
[X] An Elf, long of ear with Vallaslin marking them from Clan Lavellen, sent to spy, to see what effects the decisions made here would have on the Clans and the Keepers.
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down their foes
[X] Herself
[X] To carry her
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down their foes
[X] Herself
[X] To carry her
- Location
- Third planet from the star named Sol
- Pronouns
- He/They
Solas is still a ways away, and there are other romances you convince others to go too. Besides, the elf master race should rule the world!I might be ok with elves, but SOLAS?! The reason any of this happened in the first place? Uh-uh. No way no how. Besides, its nice to go vanilla sometimes. Makes you appreciate the more out-there choices available later on.
keenscythe
No longer NEET
- Location
- WA, USA
[X] A minor human Noble, the symbol of House Trevelyan on his belt. Come to aid their family in the proceedings.
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down Her foes.
[X] Himself.
[X] Carry her.
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down Her foes.
[X] Himself.
[X] Carry her.
Kelirapc
The Bright in your Night
- Location
- Kali-Forni
[X] A Vashoth, a rare breed. A rare breed of Qunari one who was never part of the Qun, and part of the famous mercenary group the Valo-kas hired to keep the peace at the Conclave.
[X] A staff snapping with frost, to freeze and restrain them*
[X] Herself
[X] To carry her
[X] A staff snapping with frost, to freeze and restrain them*
[X] Herself
[X] To carry her
DeepWaters
No one will be the wiser.
- Location
- Land of Spiders and Shipping Charts
[X] An Elf, long of ear with Vallaslin marking them from Clan Lavellen, sent to spy, to see what effects the decisions made here would have on the Clans and the Keepers.
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down their foes
[X] Herself
[X] To carry her
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down their foes
[X] Herself
[X] To carry her
- Location
- United States of America
[X] A minor human Noble, the symbol of House Trevelyan on his belt. Come to aid their family in the proceedings.
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down Her foes.
[X] Himself.
[X] Carry her
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down Her foes.
[X] Himself.
[X] Carry her
- Location
- Hollister
[X] A minor human Noble, the symbol of House Trevelyan on his belt. Come to aid their family in the proceedings.
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down Her foes.
[X] Himself.
[X] Carry her.
[X] Sword and Shield, to defend the Divine and cut down Her foes.
[X] Himself.
[X] Carry her.