The cave stinks of death. A dozen bodies slump against the walls. Flies crawl over their pallid skin. Their lips and fingernails are black. Poison.
Judging by their coarse wools, coarse furs and coarser hair, they were Ferelden: refugees from the Fifth Blight, no doubt, turned to banditry. Of their leader, the woman with the missing finger, there is no sign.
At the back of the cave you find most of the goods stolen from the merchants. Many of the chests have not even been opened. What will you do with them?
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