In the hopes of saving Antiva from the elven gods who continued to loom over the city and threaten all of the realms with their inevitable demise, you found yourself in your home yet again. Antiva was the home of The Crows, the group that had previously outcast you over a prior disagreement. You'd mostly redeemed yourself in recent weeks and helped with the Antaam problem. They were like pests, no matter how many you killed, they'd always come back.

Now, you had to go meet with the most notorious of the Antaam. 'The Butcher'. Normally, there wouldn't be any civilized talk. But there was a rat within the Crows, and The Butcher was entangled within the story.

Stepping into the overtaken bar, two large Antaam greeted you by the door, shoving you in where the man sat at a table. Sitting would be a stretch- he made the seat look like it was made for a doll, and it clearly didn't fit. Daathrata, also aptly named The Butcher, wasn't someone you'd met before. Most Qunari weren't nearly as tall as him, he was absolutely massive.

"Ah, the Crow is here to see me." His voice was a deep baritone, one that shook the tarnished walls or a once-bustling bar. He slapped his hand down on his knee, staring deeply at you. "Sit, sit. Don't worry, it's not time for our fight yet. I'd let you know."

He seemed so civilized for an Antaam. It was almost offputting. His appearance and his demeanor told completely different stories, it almost felt too kind of him.

"You know, I always admired The Crows. It means something when kill. I like that. You're as much a work of art as this city."