"I wasn't that smart," he says quietly. He'd not smiled and let it pass. He'd fought back, struggled, and bore the marks on his body and mind and even heart, to this day. And likely for the whole of his life.

"I didn't bend my neck. I was older than many who are taken, and didn't believe that was the shape things should take. There was... There was one senior enchanter who convinced me to calm down for a time, to pretend, to survive. And then that didn't work." There is an anger that will never die deep in his core for what was taken away. Sometimes, on days where he was absolutely worn down between Justice and Darktown, that had been all that sustained him.

"I tried again, for seven years, in Kirkwall. We both know how that story ended. I envy your strength."

There's a few moments of lingering silence before he looks around the docks. "And in answer to your question, yes. Card games, Wicked Grace especially. It's a Kirkwall favorite. I'm an awful card player."