Dear Sir/Madam

Please go to hell. You know why the contract failed, however, seeing as your memories have the same power as a bucket of horseshit, I shall endeavour to enlighten you.

As you are no doubt aware, the Comte Marcelain’s party was in honour of his son’s and daughter’s engagement to the Dulucine twins. Now, this party was a masque ball, so I decided to slip in as musician, of which there was an inordinate amount. As you are no doubt aware I have a flare for theatrics, so I decided to wear a white costume and black cloak, with a white mask with green tear tracks and horns. Such an outlandish costume brought me instantaneous attention from everyone, and it was further increased by my silverite longsword and black lute.

Now, the Lady Juliette Marcelain, the daughter, is a hopeless romantic as are most of her friends. As I performed in the corner, I heard them all gossiping and arguing over who I was, what I looked like, and my skill as a lover. One caught my eye in particular; Lucy, her elven chambermaid. No sooner had one musician finished the ballad of the White Doe, then Juliette had decided that the mysterious “Horned Man” should be the next to perform. I stood and played a ballad from my Fereldan hometown, The Grey Knight, a story of a Templar who volunteers to join the Grey Wardens to be with his mage warden love. Suffice it to say that the Lady and most of the party were taken with me by this time. I played to this and three hours later Juliette had invited me to sit with her and her cronies. I still wore my mask, which irked the Lady Bitch no end.

At last I played a game with them; the one to guess my name, race and nationality, would see my face and only her. The Orlesian whore decided she would be the only one to see my face. I knew that it would be better to seduce her to get closer to the Comte, but I was drawn to Lucy.

Everyone guessed and guessed, and I refused them all until Lucy spoke; “Torvald, Fereldan, human.” Everyone laughed at her and the whore hit her round the head, spitting at her and insulting her. So I stood and walked over to her and pulled of my mask. I heard the gasps and whispers from the others as I stood with my back to the whore. The bitch gave Lucy leave to speak with me and with a bow I left her.

Shortly afterwards Lucy and I were alone in a corner and conversing deeply. She is a most wonderful woman, eighteen years old with red hair and pale skin with eyes like jade. She is very intelligent with a wonderful sense of humour. Eight hours into the party (it lasted about sixteen, but that is unimportant), she and I were in bed. It has always amazed me how much skill a virgin Orlesian woman has.

But I have digressed. After satisfying each other several times in a row, I accidently let slip who I was and my duty there. She panicked and begged me not to kill the Comte, promising the most outlandish things to me if I would leave her father alone and spare him. Well you can guess my surprise at the knowledge that she was the bastard of the Comte.

I knew the cost of failure, but to be honest I didn’t care. So I decided to let him go. We went back to bed for a while. Then along came Jon DeLancour. You know, the fellow you sent after me to make sure I did the job. Well as you can guess we were disturbed by screaming and cursing from upstairs in her father’s room. I grabbed a pair of trousers and my sword and ran upstairs.

Well I’m sure Jon told you what happened next. By the way how is he eating? You know, without the majority of jaw?

Lucy and I are now happily married in Val Royeaux. With a cadre of trained guards.

If I so much as hear a whisper of assassins or mercenaries I will hunt you down and water the earth with your blood. You know the truth now, and I leave what happens next up to you.

Signed, Torvald Dorne

(The Dragon Warden)