"What's wrong with these people then? Why am I needed?" asked Dayved.
"I don't know, sir. The Captain is very brief in speech. I am not one to ask...," Jorin said while maintaining a good, brisk walk with the Templar. he thought to himself, for an old man he still walks with purpose.
"Sometimes you need to ask," said Dayved as he stopped suddenly and Jorin almost walked into his mounted shield. "You don't question the order, you question the intent. Everything else is just someone's will needing to be accomplished. Don't ever stop trusting that heart of yours. It's going to hurt and bleed, but in the end... it's with you until the Maker calls you to his side."
And with a polished move of soldier in a parade, an about face and back to the brisk walk towards the Captain.
"I'll try not to disappoint you Uncle," said Jorin.
"Uncle... yeah, I said you can use it," said Dayved. "You don't have to worry about disappointing me Jorin. Just stay kind and the rest will fall into place."
The two finally meet up with the Captain Miler who was addressing a squad of knights who were dispatched to the main gate per order of Queen Anora.
"Dayved. I think we have a big problem," said Miler "A merchant that we know arrived to the gate last night and permitted entry. He said there is a group of mages on the run from the Chantry and they're outside with that huge mob."
"Mages? Coming here? I'm too old for this..." said the Templar as he brought up his right hand to block the rising sun.
"Possibly, but there's more," Miler motioned Dayved away from the knights. "Go to your assigned towers and be prepared when the gate is open."
"Dayved, there is more. These mages might be from Kirkwall. They are dangerous and they will kill you if they see you," said Miler in a calm whisper. "What do you think I should do?"
"Open the gate."
Incredulous, Miler says, "Just like that?"
"Just like that. Let's see what we're up against."
Miler calls to nearest guard and yells to open Denerim for business. The amount of sighs that morning took much of the tension out of the air as the portcullis opened.
Each family passed through the array of fortifications to slow an advance on the city. At each station, there were guards inspecting wagons for contraband and reporting anyone with disease. There were injured and some suffering from ailments unrelated to the blight.
Dayved stopped to see those with ailments and sent them to the rebuilt chantry with an armed escort. However, Dayved wasn't looking for Blight. Not anymore. Then he saw his first clue. A tranquil. No disguising that mark. He's not wearing his circle robe. He's got on the clothes commoners would wear working the fields. Then the sense of magic began to appear in the mind's eye. It's unseen, but a Templar can sense it, feel it and it's faint. Mages are here and they're trying to hide. How many mages are here, then? Blood magic, possession, vengeance, mistrust and fear. "Oh Maker. It's going to be one of those days."
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