[Slavery is a point of contention in his world, although outlawed everywhere but the Imperium. Even where it's banned, slave trafficking thrives. He's accustomed to it even if he isn't tolerant. Her blatant display of disgust is... not what he expects. The corner of his mouth lifts before he can hide the flicker of amusement. Dry and empty humor over a dark topic he hates, but still there nonetheless. He approves.

Speaking of Kirkwall only reminds him of all that went wrong, but he doesn't shy away from it. If anything, it's an omen to this place they've now found themselves.]

There was... an explosion, after years of conflict that could have been avoided. My companions and I were forced to flee, or else be captured and possibly killed for our insubordination.

Whatever magic fuels these artifacts-- [Fenris brandishes the bracelet he's wearing, black corded leather with the silver face of an animal.] --it spoke about what's happening here. A struggle between the humans who rule and hold power, and the goblins who pray to their god, Ydite. I suppose that in a way Kirkwall was similar.

[Different, too. Mages and templars are not goblins and humans. Ydite is not Andraste. He shakes his head.]

I didn't give you my name. It is Fenris. Have you met anyone familiar to you? Another from your home, Atlantis.