“Ooh, what a shame. I’d tell you to get better friends, but ‘massive prick’ describes more of mine than I care to count, Maker bless them. … And me, too, depending on who you ask. Speaking of, pro-tip: If you ever find a book called Tale of the Champion? Don’t read it.” The less people who know her life story in the arena, the better. Hawke makes a terrible enough impression on her own.

“My magic doesn’t do much for disappearing acts. It tends to be flashy. In your face. Burning, or freezing, or…” Or boiling people’s blood in their veins, which she manages to refrain from adding out loud. Even if he’s not from Thedas, the stigma she’s come to associate with blood magic is enough to keep her mouth shut. A rare occurrence. “Or healing, and even that has glowy bits.”