She flashes him a sharp grin at that, and the somber demeanour is shed, shaken off like drops of water. She slaps his shoulder once, with possibly more strength than a mage should have (but then, Marian's a wild one, an aposthate, unbound by Circles).
"Now you speak my language. Lead the way, Inquisitor."
Nothing like drowning all the worries of the day at the bottom of a tankard of ale. She has been travelling alone for weeks now, in her journey here, and Andraste help her but she really could do with a rowdy tavern.
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"Now you speak my language. Lead the way, Inquisitor."
Nothing like drowning all the worries of the day at the bottom of a tankard of ale. She has been travelling alone for weeks now, in her journey here, and Andraste help her but she really could do with a rowdy tavern.