So... You Live Here?

Daciana tilted her head, studying him. When I think Ferelden... I think about death. Watching creatures driven mad by a song, and people driven to insanity by threats. Her voice is careful, thoughtful. And when that's not happening, these people are hunting mine. Like sport. Brown eyes fix on his.

Chasind childern used to fear the Great Mother, Flemeth. Now... strangers. She murmured, letting her gaze drift aside from Alistair. But I suppose people can change. And learn. But not the nobles. They're living their lives where they, what did you say, toy with other people's lives? She raised her eyebrows at him.

The shaman shrugged, First night you got here, you smelled like death. But that's fading, day after day. Except it wouldn't entirely fade; but she wasn't aware of that just yet. And you're kinda dense.