Chapter Text
Emmrich: Taash, I’ve noticed you use a tincture of elfroot after you breathe your fire.
Taash: (grunts) Yeah. So?
Emmrich: I only mention it because there is a particularly curious plant from the Hissing Wastes that could be better suited for the application of burns. I could procure some for you, if you wish?
Taash: I… Um. Yeah. Thanks.
Emmrich: You are most welcome, my dear.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Davrin: You’re quite a skilled mage, Bellara.
Bellara: Wait. Really? You think? Oh! I mean… well… that’s very sweet of you to say, thank you. You’re also… very skilled. With a sword, I mean. Not magic. You’re not a mage. Obviously. You know that.
Davrin: (chuckles) I know what you meant. Thank you.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Taash: Hey. Lucanis.
Lucanis: Yes?
Taash: What’s it like having a demon inside you?
Lucanis: There are good days and bad days. Sometimes, Spite is like a parasite, whispering to me, encouraging me to indulge in dark and terrible things.
Taash: And… the other times?
Lucanis: You know those very small yapping dogs that some Orlesian women carry? The ones that never shut up and bite you as soon as you look at them?
Taash: Yeah?
Lucanis: A little like that.
Lucanis (Spite): Not fair. Dogs have fleas.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Emmrich: Indulge me, Lucanis. How did you come by the nickname, ‘the Demon of Vyrantium’?
Lucanis: I killed a lot of mages.
Emmrich: Ah.
Lucanis: No offence, of course.
Emmrich: Oh, none taken at all. But there must be more to it than that, surely? Your fellow Crows have no doubt also killed many mages during their prodigious careers?
Lucanis: This is true. Viago is especially adept at it. Perhaps one day, I will tell you the full story.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Harding: So. You ever gonna tell Emmrich the story of how you got your nickname?
Lucanis: I am tempted – though something tells me he would not believe me.
Harding: His butler is a walking skeleton with jewels for eyes.
Lucanis: Point taken. But still, the story involves possessed wigs, and a target turning himself into a spider.
Harding: I still think you should tell him. He’d enjoy hearing the story.
Lucanis: You heard me say possessed wigs, right? Wigs, Harding.
Harding: (sniggers)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Davrin: Neve. Have you been sneaking Assan extra treats behind my back?
Neve: Noooo. Why on earth would I do that?
Davrin: (grumbles) You shouldn’t do that. He’ll get fat.
Neve: Doubt it. You’ve seen how much he bounces around, right? Besides, he looks at me with those big eyes and I just can’t say no.
(if Rook is romancing Neve)
Davrin: Is that what you say about Rook?
Rook: (Chuckles) You know it.
(If Rook is romancing Davrin)
Davrin: Huh. Think that’d work on Rook if I try it?
Neve: You should!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Taash: You got my hopes up, y’know.
Neve: I’m sorry?
Taash: For a group called the ‘Shadow Dragons’, I don’t see a lot of dragons.
Neve: Yes. Well. Dragons aren’t expressly known for their subtlety and subterfuge, Taash.
Taash: So why the name?
Neve: Just sounded good, I suppose. I don’t know, I didn’t come up with it, don’t blame me. Could’ve been worse. We could’ve been called the ‘Shady Nugs’.
(If Rook is a Shadow Dragon)
Rook: I call for an immediate name change.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bellara: So… Davrin…
Davrin: Yes, Bellara?
Bellara: It’s… a nice day, isn’t it?
Davrin: I suppose. Do you mean the weather, or the activity?
Bellara: Oh! Either, really. Both! The weather is nice. And it’s fun following Rook. She always takes us to nice places. And we get to meet new and interesting people.
Davrin: (laughs) Nothing dulls your sunshine, does it?
Bellara: Clouds do. Oh. Wait. You mean… (nervous laugh) I try not to let it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lucanis: No. Absolutely not.
Davrin: What?
Lucanis: Spite wants to play with Assan.
Davrin: The… demon of Spite… wants to play with a griffin?
Lucanis: (sigh) He has a surprising soft spot for Assan.
Rook: That’s actually adorable.
Lucanis: Don’t encourage him.
Lucanis (Spite): Smells like. Treetops. And petrichor.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Harding: Y’know, back in the Inquisition, I knew a Dalish elf who always denied being a mage. She insisted her staff was a bow. Even when she was casting magic from it. It’s funny how you have your gauntlet that turns into a bow that wields magic.
Bellara: You must miss your Inquisition friends a lot, Lace.
Harding: I do. But we write. And I have new friends. Like you.
Bellara: I’m… your friend?
Harding: Well, yeah. (Chuckles) What else would you be?
Bellara: …
Bellara: I’m really glad I’m your friend. You’re my friend too.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(If Rook romances Lucanis)
Davrin: Lucanis, I want to apologise.
Lucanis: How’s that now?
Davrin: I’ve not exactly treated you with the greatest of respect, and I’m sorry for that. I’ve been petty and jealous, that’s not how a Grey Warden should act.
Lucanis: Well… if we’re apologising, perhaps I should also offer the same courtesy. You are a fine man, Davrin, and a great warrior. I am honoured to fight at your side.
Davrin: You’re a lucky man, Lucanis. Don’t squander what you have with her.
Lucanis: I won’t. Rook is the light I never thought I would find in the dark. And I will walk through every shadow again just to keep her safe.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Harding: How’s Assan doing?
Davrin: Just fine, Harding.
Harding: He slept on my bed last night.
Davrin: He chewed mine this morning.
Harding: Aww, he’s just showing you he loves you!
Davrin: By gnawing on my bedpost?
Harding: It’s… a complicated kind of love.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(During The Last Gambit, if Rook romances Lucanis)
Lucanis (Spite): Pride. Feels old. Cracked. Disparate.
Lucanis: Enough, Spite. Now is not the time.
Lucanis (Spite): He. Hurt. Rook!
Solas: Your spirit companion is restless, Antivan. I suggest you corral him before you face Elgar’nan, lest he be used against you.
Lucanis: Consider yourself lucky I am not unleashing him on you. Spite is by his very nature spiteful. And spirits do not forgive easily.
Lucanis (Spite): He. Hurt. Our. Rook!
Rook: Spite, it’s okay.
Lucanis (Spite): (grumbles)