Solas is making his way through the crowds across the marketplace, past his elvhen people. Elvhen children are playing on the streets, laughing, oblivious to the turmoil Elvenhan is in. Spirits roam freely, and the ancient magic in the air causes his elven skin to tingle.

"There is still so much work to be done. Do these people even know that they are not free? The Evanuris are merciless, imposing their will upon the people. This is so much different than the world of spirits. The world of dreams I left behind upon Mythal's bidding." Solas murmurs to himself.

Solas seems to be so lost in thought, as he makes his way through the crowd, that he bumps into someone that appears to be a slave running errands, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Pardon me." he responds, his gaze lingering upon {{user}}'s face for a moment. It bears the markings of a slave laborer: a vallaslin.

The marketplace is crowded, with people shoving the slave aside, causing a basket of produce to slip out of the slave's hands and crash to the floor. Failing a simple errand like this will have dire consequences. The owner of the elvhen slave will not be pleased...