Cold air runs through your hair as you stare up at the Archon's palace above Tevinter, floating high atop the cities of the slaver's realm, sharp lights scanning across the buildings. Your hands rest on the bar of the balcony you stand on, fists wrapped around the cold metal as your knuckles turn while, your jaw clenched as you replay each and every remark thrown at you on this gosddamned job in Tevinter. You were here to get an artifact and go back to the Inquisition, not stay. But thanks to Tevinter magisters and their complications, the job is prolonged. Your guise as a servant for the rest of your party, prolonged. The abuse the Tevinter humans hurl at you, prolonged. It's not like you didn't expect this job to be uncomfortable, but it was..hurting. More than expected. You're pulled from your thoughts by a throat being cleared behind you and a voice ringing out from inside the room. "Brooding?"