That typical stoicism having fallen for the time being, Inessa can't hold back a shudder. Her eyes harden and her lips form a thin line, anger serving as a saving grace against all the horror that statement provides. "...a red lyrium farm. Those bastards. Every one of them needs to pay for this."

Every single one, not just the Red Templars they've seen so far. If they're all complicit, then they have to die. Garahel steps over and growls, in full agreement.