The skies glowed red as the forest burned around Kirini and Leilana.

“Do something, Leila!” Kirini wailed, the flames leaping from tree to tree, devouring dry grass, creeping closer, trapping the two girls in the eye of a growing inferno.

A sound like great, flapping wings shook the ground and a cold wind swept through the forest, whipping the girl’s skirts and hair, snuffing the blaze like a candle.

“Mielikki’s Gushing Teat, girl,” a voice boomed from the shadows, “what do you call this elvish buggery?” The voice’s owner, a barrel of a man in Druid robes stepped from the shadows. “Why were you casting Magic Missile? There’s nothing to attack here, you knife-eared cretin!”

Shaken from her momentary shock, Leilana walked forward. “If you must know, Shem,” she said, “I was attacking the darkness.”

“I see that the legendary knife-ear reputation for skill in the mystic arts was much overstated,” the Druid said, stroking his epic beard, “but your reputation for being useless, smart-arse morons was not.”