The sun was just disappearing over the horizon when the exhausted Templar trotted into the village on horseback, face made blank by the steel helmet issued to all of his rank for that very purpose. His horse was far more energetic than he was, as he had picked it up the village before, having travelled from the Circle on foot before that. He dismounted outside of the Chantry, much to the complaint of his aching legs, and tied the horse's reins to one of the rings embedded in the buildings stone wall. He gave the mare a friendly pat on the flank with a gauntleted hand.
A few local boys gave his deep red skirts a tug in hope of a few coins, but his profession meant he didn't carry money, even for charitable purposes. His first stop was the inhabitants excuse for a tavern- not to drink, but to pass around a description of the mage he was looking for.
It didn't take long before someone hazarded that they'd seen the young man going into the cowshed belonging to a farmer whose name the Templ