Solas: A few mages put up a fight trying to defend themselves from renegade templars, and I'm treated with fear and suspicion. Your people try to openly conquer a city, and you're everyone's favorite drinking buddy.
Iron Bull: My people? They're no more my people than blood mages are yours.
Solas: Fair enough. Still, it's not a distinction I expect them to make, given the sweeping generalizations they throw at anyone who can cast a spell. What's your secret?
Iron Bull: I'm charming.





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