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What’s wrong with all them Qunari? Kind of tight-arsed, of late. With the absence of women in their enclave, little wonder. I have no idea what the teachings of the Qun say about sex but I’d be rather surprised if there wasn’t a list of allowed positions, partners and paraphernalia – the Qunari do like to be bossed around in every detail. I asked Fenris as the only expert around but he turned red and mumbled something about nuzzling and hot iron pries, and refused to go into details. I pondered sending Isabela to find out, as it seemed to be a kind of mission she would love to accomplish, but she refused, as well. What’s wrong with you, people? I run every possible errand for you, and you are not willing to do something for me in turn?
The bitch Isabela! She knew all along the Qunari ways and yet she didn’t tell me! Even worse, she snatched that manual the Arishok wanted so badly and ran for good! What am I supposed to do now? There are a few dozens sexually starved Qunari who have just lost their only hope to relieve themselves according to the Qun. If they run amok, I refuse to take responsibility.
Even if I didn’t know better myself, today I’ve seen yet another compelling reason why one shouldn’t consort with demons. Turning Templar novices into abominations is definitely a sign of sick mind and I can’t imagine how it was supposed to work in the long run, what with the abominations’ tendency to be rather touchy when it comes to the physical harm of their earthly shell, but reason is not a feature blood mages are notable for, anyway. However, that horrible complexion must have been a result of some demonic contact (and I sure didn’t know that demons could spread chancre), and if this still isn’t enough, imagine the ugliest lipstick you have ever seen and multiply it by ten. Being a crazy abomination and wearing white lipstick is not just an offence to the Maker but to good taste, as well.
Strange city, strange habits, strange travelling partners… Now, don’t get me wrong: I have no – alright, almost – objections towards Aveline. I can certainly understand that she is not pleased with that mercy blow to her husband – but telling me that she was pissed only weeks later, after we land? The woman does have a communication problem.
Still can’t get out of my mind the encounter with the Templar – abominators. Except for that nice hood I’m wearing (c’mon, one can’t be picky when short of coin, and I sure didn’t tell mother why I insisted on double thorough washing), there was yet another cherry to it: seeing a Templar in his unmentionables, which certainly is a sight few mages lived to tell the tale about. I must say I was rather intrigued – oh, yes, broad shoulders, finely muscled, simply the stuff one would expect in a guy trained for heavy armour. What I didn’t know, though, was that the underwear was a part of the uniform, too. I keep wondering what that tiny Sword of Mercy embroidered down there is supposed to signify?