RPG on the Portal.

He spoke: "Stop... don't kill me!"
-And why is that? Why did you attack?
-I was ordered to...
-By whom?
- It doesn't matter... I was told that you are an accomplice of demons, that you didn't come to us for no reason...
But something about the Dancer's words didn't sit right with you... As if he were reciting a prepared speech or someone was controlling his mind... Exactly!! Why didn't it occur to me immediately! But only a very skilled mage could do this... and there were none nearby... But perhaps this is connected to the missing censer? The priest told you that the censer has unusual properties known to few... And if an evil wizard were to seize it, it could be very, very dangerous.
So that's why the priest said only an outsider could have stolen the censer... he simply didn't know! A mage controlled the Dancer's mind—he did all the dirty work...
But now the task grew more complicated—the mage had to be found. You had a lead—a strange amulet hung around the Dancer's neck: a hydra enclosed in a six-pointed star.
So, take action!

What a predicament, I thought. And may Uragsh tear me apart across all of Shio, for I still need to somehow hide the traces of my crime—after all, I broke into someone else's house, and in principle, the elf I defeated could easily tell the guards about it, framing it as if I wanted to rob him... But this part is easy to solve. Dancers—whether of death or blades—are literally obsessed with honor, especially Gilraen, the most famous among them, and therefore they never break their word. "But," I immediately corrected myself, "his mind seems to be under control?" What else can I do, I countered. And besides, perhaps he is only controlled while wearing the amulet (very uncharacteristic for wood elves!), or perhaps the sense of honor sits so deep within him that he cannot violate it, even while under control...
And then it hit me again. The elf should be taken to the priest—I got the impression that he can be trusted—and I should ask the priest to use the magic of Elrath to lift the evil spell. I can also ask him about the amulet, or better yet, visit the local library—if there is one here, of course, which is unlikely.
Additionally, I needed to go to the magistrate the very next day to find out who is searching for the missing censer and what is already known.
-Get up, - I said to my former enemy. He complied, rising with difficulty—it's hard to stand up without leaning on your hands, and his hands were quite seriously wounded. I took a rope lying nearby and tied his hands—even wounded, a dancer is very dangerous—and just in case, I gagged him: it wouldn't do for him to start calling for help when we step outside! After that, I bandaged our wounds, explaining along the way that I was now taking him to a place where he would be helped, and that he would be better off—and here I looked at him as expressively as I could, then at my sword—behaving quietly. He only nodded silently, for he already had a gag in his mouth.
Having finished the unpleasant work, I took a step back and looked critically at the creature standing before me. An elf of medium height, barefoot and bare-chested, with hands tied behind his back and wrapped in gradually reddening pieces of cloth (I tore one of the robes in the wardrobe for bandages), and a gag in his mouth. I involuntarily chuckled—it all looked so ridiculous—and, telling myself that he would look somewhat strange and overly provocative on the street in this state, I took another hooded cloak from the wardrobe and threw it over him. Now he could easily pass for a weary traveler.
I took his blades—I'll sell them later—and several jars from the shelves—they seemed like decent things, alchemists love such nasties. Also, in the pocket of the robe I tore for bandages, I found—just lucky—a purse with 12 coppers and 3 silvers...
Stuffing all this gear into my bag, removing the amulet from my prisoner's neck and putting it in my pocket, I nudged the elf with his wounded arm and we headed toward the church...
(the sword was already in its scabbard, the right hand gripped a walking staff, and a dagger was hidden in its sleeve, ready to jump into the palm and enter the fray at any moment...)