I don’t remember what night it was in Qada, but I woke up to a group of people dragging me through the streets. At night. Oh, if Sarenrae could watch! Desna, please hold her hand in the meanwhile.
We were brought to a square with a crowd murmuring. I say we, since when they took the hood from my hewn face I could see myself and four others standing atop a wooden stage.
“These five attempted to kill me, to take my life!” A voice I couldn’t see spoke to rouse the crowd, and they agreed with him. He mentioned how we had tried to kill him, in [his] city.
And so we were exiled to the reaches of Trenventari. They branded each of use with a circular brand on the shoulder, a permanent mark.
“The light as my witness, we are innocent!”
There was no recourse.
That speaker, the one accusing us, approached our group. The crowd chanted his name – Duncan – as he spat in our faces and marched us to a wagon.
Welcome to Erta, I suppose.