Strange dips his head in acknowledgment, and works on correcting the name. It is slow, and methodical, each letter taking so much longer to write in his careful, wobbly, childlike scrawl. But the focus on getting this one right — FERRANT — gives Gela a few moments to swallow, and breathe, and for both of them to hopefully reassemble some of that composure.

On the one hand, he has no idea what to do with this or how he can help,

on the other hand, he can’t imagine what it took to come here today, and so he must do something.

“I can do some research,” he offers. “Try to understand more about how such a curse works in Thedas, and… how one might manage it, or control it, or banish it.”