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You look at the hat for a moment, watching the darkspawn snatch at it, and then shake your head sadly.

“We can’t save the hat, Ashur,” you say. “There’s just no way.”

He nods, resignation evident on his face. “Stand back,” he says, and you and Tarquin take a few steps away from the edge of the pit. When you’re in the clear, he summons magic to his fingertips and sends it into the pit in a massive, echoing blast that momentarily blinds you, kicking dust high into the air and leaving all three of you coughing.

You open your eyes just in time to see the hat disintegrate along with most of the darkspawn. There’s no denying that it’s an efficient way to solve the problem—nice of the darkspawn to gather so many of their number together in such a convenient place.

“That’ll take care of most of them,” Ashur says, “but we’ll have to handle the rest ourselves.”

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