Chapter Text
A dwarven woman stands on Seheron’s docks, her long, thick braid unravelling in the chill wind, cheeks ruddy under her casteless brand. On her back are two blades: a longsword and a greatsword, its blade longer than she is tall and its haft jutting far above her head.
This doesn’t escape notice.
A great horned Qunari stalks up to her, eyes alight with fury. She bows calmly in greeting, speaking clear, quick Qunlat and Common Tongue.
“Kithshokost. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun. I am a Grey Warden. I bring the Arishok the Asala of Sten of the Beresaad.”