"When I think about all the money it took to make the statues, and we're talking workers even if they weren't paid for it properly because let's face it, you don't pay them properly you just pay one person with some grand vision. Then the materials for the statues. The materials to make those into the finished product. Then the equipment? It's a good con."

Saying nothing of the lyrium, the armour, the vestments, the wine, the candles, a thousand other things that add up when he sees them in their red garments (dye isn't cheap but it's cheaper than lyrium if everyone's hard-up in some crackdown and you're trying to fob off a desperate Templar) asking for coin from folk who don't have it? Well, isn't Andraste watching? Andraste the slave? Who freed the slaves? Who marched alongside the elves they forget about?

He can picture her handling a corpse easier than her in repose.

"Come off it, Templars can read, there's no other way to memorise the Chant without your tongues falling off. And I'm not in it." He's never read the substance of the book, maybe he is. "They're filth. Utter filth. Very accurate in their depictions of Avvar life." (They're not, that was on purpose and she's something of a laughing stock for it.)