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Some years ago, a dragon rampaged through the countryside, gorging herself on animals and people. Before long, she nested near the village of Blackmarsh. Fearing she would drag off villagers to feed her young, we sent men to drive the beast away. The men were never seen again.

The new baroness had till then done little for her people. But she emerged from her manor and told us not to worry--she'd been sent from Orlais not just to rule, but to protect. She promised the dragon would be gone by sundown the next day.

She set off in the morning, alone. We were certain she'd gone insane. What chance had one woman against a dragon? At sundown there came a loud clap, like thunder, so great it shook the earth. Then our baroness returned to us, triumphant; of the dragon, there was no sign.

The baroness, no longer aloof, sang and danced with the lowest of us. There were dark whispers that the baroness was a witch, but we did not care. Her magic had saved us, and for that we loved her.

--From the records of the village of Blackmarsh

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