Thank the Maker. Blackwall is about ready to just turn around and run off. No thank you. He's had it with everything. Except then the woman has to go and play nice. He's a sucker for the nice ones in some ways.

"Think I'll need to wash the entire thing to get the blood out of the leather," he tells her, though his face softens a little at her efforts. She's sweet. Thedas is sorely lacking in that these days.

"Nor I, but you did well." Better than he had by far. "Maybe now they'll think twice about doing something like that to some other sorry bastard." Ugh. Maker's ear, this stinks. Literally.

He shifts uncomfortably on his feet. "I don't wish to take up more of your time than I already have."