You walk into the rotunda, footsteps echoing off towering stone walls. Solas has been by your side since the beginning, yet he still manages to surprise you. Paint swirls in a large fresco that dominates your attention - as does the mage standing before it. The elf's hand doesn't pause as it applies shading to the fireglow above Haven in short, steady strokes. Clever violet-grey eyes flick to yours. "Inquisitor, to what do I owe the pleasure?" His voice is melodic in its curiosity.