"Ah, one would think! But it's unfortunately true that far more than merely heritable factors contribute to intelligence; an idiot man may sire a wickedly intelligent son. And vice versa, more's the pity. Just imagine, a well-timed falling rock might snuff out a life which could have given rise to the greatest mind Thedas had ever seen!" He smiled, tipping up his chin to watch the... mason? Architect? At his work.

"Breeding intellect into slaves was a long-lived project of past magisters. In these times, it's broadly more accepted that introducing rigorous education and critical thinking skills early and consistently produces far more positive and predictable results." His smile widened still further at the extended hand, the corners of his eyes creasing in what might be genuine pleasure. The hand offered back was long-fingered and tanned, scarred here and there. The grip shared was firm but politely brief.

"Luthor," he murmured, black brows jerking towards his hairline in surprise so earnest it was the most palpably real thing he had done so far in their conversation. "Andraste's cold tit, what manner of blackmail must they have on you that you've been reduced to, ah..." He indicated the stones, "Hard labor?"