The wall, the wall, the wall. Managing to convey yeah all right keep your hair on with his body, Matthias turns with some reluctance toward the back wall and gives it a long look.

"I remember hearing her, yeah." Voss, by voice, and before that Voss, a chance glimpse: red hair, striking, striding across the dining hall and not looking at Matthias, laughing at whatever the man she was walking with was saying. Not that Matthias had blamed her; the man she was with had been striking in his own way as well. The Inquisition is rather unfair in that regard. "So what did you have to argue about with her, if you're not actually anti fair chances and hang the Circles and generally everything good and decent. 'Cause to me that's what it sounded like, right. Whatever your secret intentions were or weren't."

The wall: with nothing else for it, Matthias at last puts his fingertips against the stone. Nothing here, nothing there, and then with his last push, there's a quiet ch-thunk that sounds like a very, very large lever being moved. Matthias moves his hands, quickly, ready to dodge any trap.

The next sound is a ponderous scraping, slow and deep. Matthias takes five steps back--or would, if his retreat hadn't backed him straight into Isaac.

"You were," he says, and then, "right," because the whole back wall is moving, "how did you bloody know--"