He nods when she gets to Templar. It used to be a thing of pride, but with the way things have gone, the Order has come to be regarded lower than mud. At least so it seems to him, and he's one of the reasons it's losing credibility.
Cade angles his head to look at Ruby when she tells her story, still morose but also vaguely horrified-- not because of the killing aspect, but because of the oddness of it, and the idea of consuming human flesh even as an animal. That he cannot say he has done. But then, he's done everything just as himself. He's not sure which is worse.
"...I..." he begins, and winces, "I was with my men, hunting apostates in the Hinterlands. They... they went off. Never respected me, they turned on me. I had...." He swallows hard. "...I found each one and killed them all. They wouldn't stop." Even this he can justify, thanks in part to Zevran. He understands a life or death situation all too well, and anyone who calls himself a soldier must be aware that sometimes he must kill or be killed. But there were other incidents, times when he was more clearly in the wrong. "I... I came to Skyhold. And I.. I haven't... been able to..." He isn't sure where his words are going, so he stops, shakes his head, and tries again. "...I've attacked people. For little things. And I... they've said they forgive me. Twisted Fate, Beleth, and..." River. But River's gone now, without a word of goodbye. Perhaps she didn't forgive him after all. "...but I don't... I don't think anyone does. I don't..." His breath hitches, and he looks at the empty wine bottle, perhaps wishing there were more. He heard that being drunk was supposed to dull the senses and lower the inhibitions, but instead he just feels all that much more aware of himself while simultaneously saying more than he's ever wanted to. "...I lost my rank, and my armor, and... everything. I'm worse than a mad dog, there's nothing to be done for me but this." He nods dully toward the chasm. "As long as I'm here, I have to be supervised. Overseen. By people who can barely stand to look at me." As he speaks, his despair is slowly overtaken by resignation. This is what he has come to understand as truth, and saying it aloud again reminds him of why he's here. If he doesn't do this, they may just kill him anyway. "...I've blown it for the last time," he says, more softly, "Zevran was... trying to help, I walked out on him. He was my last chance." Perhaps he'll just be exiled, and go off to die alone in the mountains. Or perhaps he can just save everyone the inconvenience and solve the problem for them.
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Cade angles his head to look at Ruby when she tells her story, still morose but also vaguely horrified-- not because of the killing aspect, but because of the oddness of it, and the idea of consuming human flesh even as an animal. That he cannot say he has done.
But then, he's done everything just as himself. He's not sure which is worse.
"...I..." he begins, and winces, "I was with my men, hunting apostates in the Hinterlands. They... they went off. Never respected me, they turned on me. I had...." He swallows hard. "...I found each one and killed them all. They wouldn't stop."
Even this he can justify, thanks in part to Zevran. He understands a life or death situation all too well, and anyone who calls himself a soldier must be aware that sometimes he must kill or be killed.
But there were other incidents, times when he was more clearly in the wrong.
"I... I came to Skyhold. And I.. I haven't... been able to..." He isn't sure where his words are going, so he stops, shakes his head, and tries again. "...I've attacked people. For little things. And I... they've said they forgive me. Twisted Fate, Beleth, and..." River. But River's gone now, without a word of goodbye. Perhaps she didn't forgive him after all.
"...but I don't... I don't think anyone does. I don't..." His breath hitches, and he looks at the empty wine bottle, perhaps wishing there were more. He heard that being drunk was supposed to dull the senses and lower the inhibitions, but instead he just feels all that much more aware of himself while simultaneously saying more than he's ever wanted to.
"...I lost my rank, and my armor, and... everything. I'm worse than a mad dog, there's nothing to be done for me but this." He nods dully toward the chasm. "As long as I'm here, I have to be supervised. Overseen. By people who can barely stand to look at me."
As he speaks, his despair is slowly overtaken by resignation. This is what he has come to understand as truth, and saying it aloud again reminds him of why he's here. If he doesn't do this, they may just kill him anyway.
"...I've blown it for the last time," he says, more softly, "Zevran was... trying to help, I walked out on him. He was my last chance." Perhaps he'll just be exiled, and go off to die alone in the mountains. Or perhaps he can just save everyone the inconvenience and solve the problem for them.