31st year of the Dragon Age, Cloudreach, 3rd Thursday

Maker, what have I gotten myself into?

Not sure how this happened, but we've gathered quite the crew of people to help us. Garrett calls them allies, but I'm going to call them "friends", if nothing else but as a goal, allies are for people like Garrett and Bartrand.

Eugh, sorry, Garrett, didn't mean to liken you to my brother, that was uncalled for.

Anyway, two crazy elves, one adorable as a kitten while drunk on blood magic and the other a brooding grump drunk on anger. Then we have the pirate with the future back problems, a Warden-mage who looks like a jigsaw puzzle and the guardswoman with the granite jaw struggling not to arrest the lot of them.

A capable lot though, I'll give them that.

We've been in more scraps than I'd like. Sure, money doesn't come without some danger, at least not when it's fast money, but I'd hoped we'd be able to earn them relatively bloodlessly. Kirkwall isn't exactly known for that though, so I guess I was kidding myself.

Garrett's proven as capable as my sources said though, maybe more so. Tactical, intelligent, cunning and a bit of a cheapskate, I can see our funds swelling by the day with him at the helm.

Helm? Damn, I've been drinking too much with Isabela, she can really hold her liquor, for a human.

Anyway, we've handled Qunari, blood-mages, templars and too many bandits to count already, it's a wonder the city still has a population worth mentioning. This gold we're making is stained with blood, but luckily, it's not exactly the blood of the innocent. Garrett doesn't seem like the epitome of morals, but he does seem to shy away from preying on the weak. Of course, he'd call that sensible or something such like, with a long-winded explanation why to boot...I think he's a better person than he cares to admit.

Jeez though, with all this fighting it'll only take a stray arrow or unparried blow and I'll be a hero short, or not feel anything at all myself. I really don't like the second option, and I fear that Carver fellow wouldn't be able to lead this group down a well-lit street, never mind to enough gold to save this expedition.

Poor Bartrand, he now knows the fate of it all hinges on Garrett, or rather, he thinks it hinges on me, which he hates even more. I can almost sympathise, it's scary when my bigger brother leads me into all manner of trouble. Still, he made our bed, now he has to lie in it as I straighten the sheets.

Now, I better check up on Merrill, apparently being Dalish doesn't prepare you for surviving in the city, who knew, right? Anyway, she needs to stop hunting the local "wildlife" and get a job, before she scares the hell out of the rest of the alienage.

I'd try to do something similar for Fenris, but I think that ship has sailed already.

Man, I really need to stop with the nautical terms.

Nautical? Maker, save me...

8

8

8

Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for england