Gannicus just looks at him, slightly flat, but there is curiosity in the way he looks at him. "In Tevinter, no one would say sorry for a dead gladiator. They scream for it, you know. When someone dies, in arena."

It's hard to tell if Gannicus likes the idea or not; the truth isn't so simple. He loved the glory, the accolades, but he was a slave and everyone he loved had their lives offered up for entertainment. He loved the glory and hated the truth of it, lived and died for the rush of adrenaline, and found anyone who enjoyed it disgusting.