"Disappointment would imply expectation," Solas looks down at Barcus with a natural, rather than assumed arrogance. The difference between a stag and a king: the king is trying act impressive. Solas simply wears it, unbending, "I very much doubt anything about this place will adhere to preconceived notions."

Not the least because he was meant to be done with random esoteric imprisonments, with the interference of outside forces. What was left was to marshal his strength, sharpen his blade, and go forth into that final, terrible end to it all, his duty fulfilled. And afterward? Freedom, at last.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. But then, was that not the story of his life?

"Danger often hides behind an unassuming face. But will you not introduce yourself? You already know a great deal of my circumstances. It's only fair."