It’s been easy enough for Mobius to continually, deliberately steer it that way — it helps that Strange is so very fond of the sound of his own voice — but he’s finally trying to execute that gentle pivot now. “What brings a templar to wash up in Kirkwall and throw his lot in as librarian with a bunch of misfits and mad scientists?”

Strange supposes he can be open about the templar card here; there’s no one else around, or at least no one else with brain function around, and even the building itself is slowly rotting around them, sagging on its foundations. They’ve been rooting around on the ground floor, but he doesn’t fully trust the stairs or the second storey to hold them without the floorboards just giving way.