“Not unless you count Templars as people.” That… Wasn’t quite as much of a joke as it should have been. Not that Ellis needed to know that. A skip and a beat passed before she tacked on, “I say only in jest. There are some good Templars. Not the ones that tried to kill me and every mage in my city, though. They can rot.” Much better.

With his approval, Hawke retreated far back enough in the cave to retrieve her sharpened stick. It was no proper staff, not nearly long or sturdy enough and lacking any adornments, but it would do. Wouldn’t make her feel any less silly going through the motions, unfortunately. She jabbed an accusatory finger in Ellis’s direction, getting a feel for the balance and weight of the stick with her other hand. “You’re not allowed to laugh. It looks much more impressive with actual magic, I promise.”