“If there is an element that exists to be claimed, it is mine.” He’ll not mention the disaster within the maze; a sore spot for his pride still, and an incident he’d prefer her to own no knowledge of (though perhaps the tale of it would cool her blood considerably— not that Gabranth knows what courses through her mind at the moment).

He shifts the pack across his shoulder as Loghain is drawn away, footsteps steady. The mist is painfully thick, but the air itself free of blood or decay.

“Yet I have long forgotten what it is to mend injury, and I have no knowledge of how to befuddle either hearts or minds.”