I awoke at six o’clock the next morning. I gathered my things and left the tavern. However, I didn’t get very far without being stopped however.
“That’s him!” I heard a voice say behind me. Turning around, I saw the woman from the tavern the night before, with two Templars on either side of her.
“He’s a blood mage, I swear it! He controlled the minds of some folk who came into the tavern!”
“As I recall,” I began. “Those men would have made off with your valuables if I had not convinced them otherwise.”
“Maybe so,” the Templar said. “But you are still a maleficar. We’ve even received word that you’ve murdered several Templars. You must face justice.”
“Oh how ironic,” I said. “Men who know nothing of justice claiming that they can deliver it. It’s a bit like the proprietor of a brothel advocating chastity.”
Not giving any thought to what I said, the Templars advanced towards me. Drawing my staff, I cast a spell, flinging them twenty feet backwards. My attention was drawn to the woman, whom I just noticed was wearing a Chantry robe.
“Oh, so you’re a sister,” I said. “That explains everything.”
“I beg your pardon!” she said.
“You’re cloistered, meaning you’re not allowed to be satisfied by a man, so you take out your frustration on mages, like myself, in order to try and make yourself feel better about some ridiculous vow.”
“How dare you!” she said. “If the Maker were here, he would strike you down where you stand!” A Chantry stood not far off behind her. I walked past her, focusing my gaze on it. I could hear the Chant coming from inside; more gospel being preached by the heretics. I formed a fireball in my hand, then looked at the woman.
“Here’s what I think of your Maker,” I said to her. I hurled the fireball towards the bell tower of the Chantry. I hit my mark, and the tower exploded, engulfing in flames. People were screaming all around.
Ignoring what was going on around me, I simply walked away from the village, and continued my journey.