The Two Thrones

Landon's letters home 2 and 3

Dear Mother,

I hope you are well. I am writing from lake Calenhed at the moment. We found our Malificar in the catacombs. He was… not what I expected. I will say no more about it. After we captured him he instructed Leanne on how to save the Bann though he insisted arl Eamon was beyond help. Bann Tegon ordered us to the circle of magi. Upon arriveing there I was initially refused entry. By the time I was able to enter I had to search for my companions. It was horrible mother. You know how mages can become possessed? I think that happened to most of the mages there. After our escape through the sacrifice of a very noble mage my companions informed me that or next stop is Amaranthine. I will write to you from there.

Love Landon

Dear Mother,

I miss you and the others dearly. Please let them know that. I have just returned from the woods near Highever. A ship’s captain (One who apparently knows of and had a great respect for father.) agreed to take us to Orlasis, our next destination, if we helped her earn a boon from Lord Howe. It seems he had the entire Cousland clan murdered. His son was a better man than he though and saved one of them. After a difficult journey through the woods we discovered an abandoned keep and Elissa Cousland morning the lose of her lover. She had slain a number of Packston dogs that Howe had sent to kill the two of them.

After getting her safely out of the woods and sending her to Redcliffe we returned to Amaranthine. We depart soon so I may not be able to write for some time. I miss you Mother. Make sure Kelsie and Rylan are keeping up with their studies. Please Pray for me.

Love Landon

Soetheby's Chronicle - 2
Charged by the King, Part 2

This group of people I have just met is an odd bunch. An Elven Circle Mage, a somewhat questionable man who dislikes mages, and a tough looking reserved man, accompanied by a black crow. I am unsure of how they came together, though I do now know why. But I will get to that in time.

I followed them up to the main chamber as they discussed their own affairs. After a short conversation with one of the head mages, which I tuned out, I found myself in what passes for a library in the tower. As I began searching for data I had no hope of finding, I began to hear the bird talk. Of course, since the man next to me didn’t respond, I assumed I was imagining things. Though in hindsight, I wonder why I felt the need to converse with said bird. I never really understood magic much, which is why I tend to leave it out of my novels.

Alerting me to the fact that I was indeed hearing an actual bird talk, my new acquaintance began conversing with me himself. As of this writing, he is getting on my nerves. He calls himself Dinaim, and he apparently enjoys mocking my name. After a few minutes of attempting to educate him a little, an effort far too massive for one man, we noticed the Templar who guards the basement walk past. Dinaim stood and put on an exaggerated drunken display as we snuck off to the basement to procure my manuscripts, and whatever it was that they were searching for.

Once in the basement I received a shock, the statue down there could talk. Despite having just been in a conversation with a bird, I was still afraid. I was beginning to realize just how extensive the powers of magic were. The statue was most helpful, to both myself and my new companions, and it helped me locate an ancient Avvari manuscript that may be of great use to me… should I survive long enough to have it translated. It also seemed to know a lot about the mission I had just become tangled in. But as it explained what it knew, something began shimmering into existence in front of us.

A vision of a mage and a Templar conversing appeared before us. I’m not sure what they were discussing, but it involved a vial of blood, and ended with the mage stabbing the Templar. I still don’t understand it completely, but the Elf next to me looked as if she might faint. We quickly rushed back up the stairs and, against my better judgment, to the main room. Despite years of writing, honing my craft, I can not begin to accurately describe the horror that awaited us in that room. Blood everywhere, dead bodies littering the floor. It took everything I had to keep from vomiting at the sight of it all.

Dinaim and myself drew our weapons, certain that we were going to be attacked by someone. And that’s when I witnessed a horror even greater than the dead bodies. The bodies reanimated and began shambling toward us, intent on killing. I can’t say I lived up to my claims of being bold just then. Faced with something I had never imagined could be possible, I faltered. Before I could regain my wits Dinaim had swung around to bury his sword in the back of the nearest corpse and the Elf, who I now know as Leanne, was shouting at us to retreat up the stairs.

Now I have extensive knowledge of military tactics and can tell you that it was the best plan any of us could have come up with in that situation. So I worked my way up the stairs, trying desperately not to have my life choked away by the undead. Miraculously, we managed to get up the stairs and close the door behind us. We took quite a beating as we struggled to keep them closed, but a well timed return of my third new companion was enough to allow me time to find something to bar the door with. He had not joined us on the initial trip so we had no idea he was upstairs with us until we had managed to close the door.

Once the door was closed we took a few seconds to properly bandage our wounds. As I applied a mild salve to my throbbing neck, I noticed that the Templar, whom Leanne had been attempting to save, was gone. I never found out what happened to him. In little time at all, the head mage came rushing down the stairs, barely clinging to consciousness. She was badly hurt but managed, with Leanne’s help, to enact a paralyzing spell to hold the demons as we escaped. We barely escaped with our lives.

I suppose one day I’ll look into the fate of the tower, but at the time all I cared about was staying alive. Once we were safe with the surviving Templars I realized something. Or I agreed with the Knight-Captain’s remark to be accurate. How was it that we, a mangy group of nobodies, had survived such an onslaught. Now I still don’t entirely trust my new companions, and I admit I grew up looking down on the Elves, so I was naturally suspicious of them when the subject was approached. But I have since realized that if they had indeed set the entire incident up, then there was nothing I could do about it. So I have taken their word that they were uninvolved. As of this writing, we have made it to an inn hoping to rest and allow our injuries to heal fully. I end this page in the hopes that the nightmares I know will haunt my sleep do not send me over the edge.

Soetheby's Chronicle - 1
Charged by the King

Being that these may be the last words I ever write, I feel it prudent to start at the beginning. My name is Soetheby. I have been writing for as long as I can remember, despite my father’s wishes. He wanted me to join the military and become a proper man. It’s not that he has an issue with writers, so to speak, it’s more of an issue with his son being a writer. He always felt that his heir should be strong and bold. I guess he got his wish anyway. I’m by no means a strong man, but I do fancy myself bold. The years that I trained to hone my fighting skills taught me to stand up to even the toughest obstacles.

It was during these years, trying to be the man my father wanted, that I met a man who was very proficient with all manner of ranged weapons. He called himself a freelancer, though I suspect that was code for assassin. I watched him practice for hours one day, oblivious to the world. Eventually I asked him how long it had taken him to master his chosen weapons. He just chuckled and handed me his bow. He explained that with the right teacher one could master any weapon in a matter of weeks.

And so I traveled with him, learning how to shoot a bow properly and how to throw a knife with deadly precision. I followed him for nearly a year as he searched for work he deemed “respectable”. When he finally found work, he demanded that we part ways. I went home after that and began writing again, using my experiences as inspiration for my novels. But I have to say, I owe that man my life. While he never directly saved me from anything, his teachings kept from dying more times than I can count.

Recently I have hit a patch of writer’s block and begun adventuring in an effort to gain some more inspiration. While I have lost many of my throwing knives over the months since I started, they have all hit their mark. All manner of creatures and men have attacked me for one reason or another, but my knives have usually been enough to at least scare them away. They are also very fun to hunt with.

But all of that is in the past, and I’m finding it difficult to focus on the past as of late. A few weeks ago I began having strange dreams of a woman cloaked in the feathers of a crow, telling me to go to the circle… and wait for an opportunity to present itself. As odd as that sounds, it fit nicely into my plans to reasearch Kinloch Hold. So I made my way there in hopes of finding that which I sought; ancient manuscripts detailing the building of the tower. It was there, as I was trying to convince a rather gruff Knight-Commander to allow me access to the basement, that I ran into the group I am currently traveling with.

It was a strange group to be sure, but they seemed harmless enough at first, so I remained civil as I tried to think of an alternate plan into the basement. And it was then that the true adventure began. An adventure that is becoming more dangerous as the hours pass. But I have promised to see it through to the end, so I have begun chronicling my travels in an effort to keep sane throughout the duration… We’ll see how that goes.

Leanne's Journal Log #1

Journal Log #1

While everyone is having many drinks in the bar, Lede sneaks away to an empty room to write the events that have occurred so far and her thoughts..

I have cheated death on more occasions then I can to count in the last several weeks. While I have enjoyed my time outside of the tower, I find that the world is much harsher and less idealistic than I previously had known from reading the books in the tower. From Ostagar to Lothering to Redcliffe, the road we traveled was dangerous with bandits and darkspawn, however my companions have stood by me thus far and I am fortunate to have such company.

Landon, a warrior of Ferelden is an honorable man of great stature, far taller than I; his skills with any weapon are impressive to say the least. The spiders of the Redcliffe dungeons are a testament to that skill.

Diniam is a very strange fellow much more interested in drink, women, and coin than darkspawn at times. However he reminds me not to take things too seriously and occasionally shows great insight in midst of his rampant conversation.

Flemeth, an obviously very powerful apostate, has not shown herself to us, though I doubt her current personality is any different in any form in which she chooses. She has a hidden agenda; I can only hope we are on the beneficial side of such a goal.

The events of the tower have shaken my resolve and my willpower, to have lived on at the sacrifice of another is not something one takes lightly. I can only hope Mistress Wynne took out as many demons as she could have in her final moments. Soon after, we embarked towards the port city of Amaranthine.

Amaranthine, the air is fresh and the ocean beautiful, it is my only hope that here we can find quick and safe passage to Orlais. I hear the Orlesians make some of the finest luxury items that can be found anywhere. However, the most interesting thing I have heard of late is the presence of Dalish in the forests near Amaranthine. I have recovered an elvish tome from the archives of the Circle of Magi. It is my hope I can exchange this information to the Dalish keeper in exchange for him teaching me the language of the Elves; it would allow me to greatly expand on my research. I am hoping to request of them the legendary material of the Dalish, the Ironbark, in order to create a superior wand.

My companions travel here to find a man who has ran off madly in love with a woman. It is an oddity for me to go after such a fiscal pair, but if it will get us to Orlais, I am more than willing to do my part. We must get to the Empress soon.

Landon's Letter Home - 1

Note: I think this is a really awesome way to kind of refresh all of our memories about the game, and since Mark’s been kind enough to provide it, I’ll put it up here for all to see. All credit goes to him for these ‘Letter’ posts.

Dear Mother,

I hope this letter finds you well. As you’ve probably guessed when you got this letter I managed to survive Ostagar, though it was a near thing. I’m afraid I cannot return home yet though and I’ll explain why. In the aftermath I came across two other survivors, Dinaim, a noble-born who also hails from Denerim, and Leanne, a mage of the circle and an elf to boot, I mentioned in my last letter that some of the circle mages were elves didn’t I? We came across, or all things, the king himself in his final moments and he tasked us with delivering a trinket to a Ser Vann.

We found this knight just as he was defeated by a Qunari Giant. We were able to talk the Qunari down however though he deceived us into thinking he was a hunter of darkspawn when in reality he was a common murderer. I can scarcely forgive myself for allowing him to walk away though luckily he was brought to justice. Ser Vann then sent us to Redcliffe.

On the way we came across an odd Dwarf by the name of Restyk and an even stranger man by the name of Garren. Upon arriveing we were sent into the Tunnels to find a Malficar. Several members of our roup were greatly wounded however and we had to return empty handed. We will return to the tunnels in the morn.

I am greatly concerned mother. I joined the Kings Army to fight Darkspawn but since Ostagar I have killed more fellow humans than in all my years as a guard and seen horrors I can not imagine. Please let everyone know I am well and tell Rosana to keep an eye on our younger siblings. I will write again as soon as I am able.



Session 1

Our heroes are charged by the dying King Cailan to deliver a locket to his knight, Ser Vann, in Lothering. On the outskirts of Lothering, or heroes find a farm that has been the scene of a brutal murder. Following tracks leading away from the house leads them to a small clearing in the woods, where Ser Vann is fighting a Qunari Warrior.

The party reasons with the qunari, and ar told by Ser Vann to take the locket to Arl Eamon in Redcliffe…

An Unknowable Tale...

Our heroes arrive at Ostagar, ready for the glory of the coming battle…


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