"Well, that's an amazing coincidence. My destination is also flexible if it means you can get protection on the way there."

There are better protectors, when it comes to talking demons out of skin-peeling, but none of them are here. And she can't be more than—well, it's hard to tell, dwarven women are all a bit baby-faced, but he would guess low. If only to avoid offending anyone. Baby-faced and powerful shin-kickers. He knows.

He holds up a wait one moment finger and steps around the slain Templar to inspect an equally slain mage, this time just with the toe of his boot, until he locates something jangly in the robes. Coin purse. He retrieves it with a little more careful respect and less commentary now he knows someone's watching.

"Redcliffe it is," he says while he straightens back up. Redcliffe it was anyway, too, but perhaps not so directly, or so during-the-daylight. It's a difficult village for a Warden to visit unnoticed. He wouldn't even try, if he didn't want to look in on Connor. But it's all right. "Have you got people there? Or a name, while I'm being nosy."