Blackwall/Dialogue

Blackwall's dialogue contains a list of conversations he has with his companions.

Combat comments
During Battle
 * One less to worry about!
 * Done and done!
 * Down you go!
 * (Low Health) I'm not backing down!

Fallen Companions
 * (Inquisitor) No!
 * (Inquisitor) You're not giving up this fight!
 * (Varric) Varric! Why'd you have to taunt them like that?
 * (Sera) I told that girl to stay out of the way!
 * (Sera) Sera!
 * (Dorian) Dorian!
 * (Cassandra) Cassandra!
 * (Cole) Cole!
 * (Vivienne) Madame Vivienne!
 * (Iron Bull) Bull!
 * (Solas) Solas! I told you to stand back!
 * (Solas) Solas!

Location comments

 * (Crestwood) [near the lake] Does that rift mean water is pouring into the Fade right now?
 * (Emerald Graves) It's sad to see Corypheus corrupting a place like this.
 * (Emprise du Lion) [near Red Lyrium] Feels warmer around the crystals.
 * (if in party) Varric: It'd rather be cold than touch that stuff.
 * (Exalted Plains) I wonder if the elves will ever find a home.
 * (The Fallow Mire) Well, this is all very pleasant.

Blackwall and Cassandra
Alternate version of above dialogue (post-Revelations)
 * Blackwall: You had a brother?
 * Cassandra: I did. I still miss him sometimes.
 * Blackwall: I had a sister. A younger sister. She died when I was very little.
 * Cassandra: I'm sorry.
 * Blackwall: I often think about what she'd be like now, had she lived.
 * Cassandra: Much like her brother, I would expect.
 * Blackwall: Maker, I wouldn't wish that on her. All this hair?

─────── ───────
 * Blackwall: You had a brother?
 * Cassandra: Yes, not that it concerns you.
 * Blackwall: I had a sister. A younger sister. She died when I was very little.
 * Cassandra: Is that a true fact, or another fabrication?
 * Blackwall: I have no more reason to lie, Cassandra. I often wonder what she’d be like now, had she lived.
 * Cassandra: If you even think of saying she’d be like me, I will hit you.
 * Blackwall: Hitting is better than quiet rage?
 * Cassandra: (Chuckles) Ahem.
 * Blackwall: Could you be a little more gentle the next time we spar, Cassandra?
 * Cassandra: Why? You can take it.
 * Blackwall: Yes, but I'd rather not.
 * Cassandra: (Laughs.) I did not realize you were made of glass.
 * Blackwall: Bruised glass, thank you.
 * Blackwall: I notice you seem to focus yourself before battle, Cassandra.
 * Cassandra: I still my mind and focus my thoughts on the Maker.
 * Cassandra: I ask for His guidance. I ask to be reforged into an instrument of His will.
 * Cassandra: What about you? How do you center yourself?
 * Blackwall: I tell myself, "It's them or you. And if it's you, be damn sure to take the bastards with you."
 * Cassandra: Well, that's...
 * Blackwall: Crude, yes, but it works.

─────── ─────── ─────── ─────── ───────
 * Blackwall: Cassandra.
 * Cassandra: Seeker Cassandra, if you must address me.
 * Blackwall: Seeker Cassandra--
 * Cassandra: But I would rather you not address me at all.
 * Blackwall: What happened to "It's never too late to become more than what you are"?
 * Cassandra: A man who truly aspired to be righteous would not lie.
 * Cassandra: He would earn respect, not steal the respect due another.
 * Cassandra: That whetstone you lent me - it produces a remarkable edge.
 * Blackwall: Celestine Black, they call it. It's the only stone I'll use on my blades.
 * Blackwall: You know what? Keep it. I'll find another.
 * Cassandra: That won't be necessary.
 * Blackwall: Of course.
 * Blackwall: So...
 * Cassandra: What is it?
 * Blackwall: Nothing. Just enjoying the comfortable silence.
 * Blackwall: I miss our sparring matches Cass̶an- Seeker Cassandra.
 * Blackwall: You were a worthy opponent.
 * Cassandra: I have other duties.
 * Cassandra: Why not ask Iron Bull? He is always willing to hit something.
 * Blackwall: I don’t much fancy a concussion.
 * Blackwall: So you were the Right Hand of the Divine, and Leliana the Left?
 * Cassandra: Yes, and if you joke about the Right Hand not knowing what the Left is doing, I will punch you.
 * Blackwall: Me? No, I would never make such a terrible joke.
 * Blackwall: They say your family almost drove the dragons to extinction.
 * Blackwall: A shame. Majestic beasts.
 * Cassandra: Majestic? Say that after you see a pile of dragon shit bigger than your house.

Blackwall and Cole

 * Blackwall: Hey, Cole! Say something interesting.
 * Cole: Something interesting.


 * Blackwall: Yes, I deserved that one.


 * Cole: So many masks.
 * Blackwall: At the ball? It's Orlesian culture, get used to it.
 * Cole: Not at the ball. Here.
 * Cole: Mockingbird, mockingbird, quiet and still, what do you see from the top of that hill? Can you see up? Can you see down?
 * Blackwall: Wait.
 * Cole: Can you see the dead things all about town?
 * Blackwall: How do you know that song?
 * Cole: It just came to me. Everyone says everyone knows it. The children knew it.

─────── ─────── ─────── ─────── ─────── ───────
 * Cole: How do you get the hair on your face?
 * Blackwall: Look, ask Varric. He seems to have adopted you.
 * Cole: He doesn't have hair on his face. Is it a mask?
 * Blackwall: No it's a beard. Look, if you were any other lad your age I'd tell that one day you'll probably grow one too, except I don't know if spirits that become boys get beards.
 * Cole: I could try.
 * Blackwall: Right. You go do that then. Good luck. Have fun.
 * Cole: We played by the fire so she would be warm. No, it's summer, Liddy.
 * Blackwall: This thing you do? Maybe you should stop doing it.
 * Cole: Got her a flower but they'd taken her. Left it on her bed. Next eight on the sill.
 * Cole: Tourney sands. A garden seat. Five to Chantry altars. One to a child with her hair. The sea? Too many to count.
 * Cole: And thirty-six. Tossed off the battlements today.
 * Blackwall: Go bother Solas.
 * Cole: You have many feelings.
 * Cole: I'm sorry she died.
 * Blackwall: Why are you here? Do you even understand what's happening in the world?
 * Cole: I heal the helpless, give hope where there is hurt.
 * Blackwall: But you've killed before.
 * Cole: Yes. Before I knew what I was.
 * Blackwall: Why should we believe you can help now?
 * Cole: It hurts too much, I can't be me, have to be someone who never killed.
 * Cole: Help enough and I'm different, I'm not me. Believe it to become it.
 * Blackwall: Maker's balls.
 * Cole: We can change, if we want it enough.
 * Blackwall: I hear you found the templar that hurt you.
 * Cole: Yes. I tried to kill him. I thought it would fix it, fix me.
 * Blackwall: Did it?
 * Cole: No. But I'm more real now. I'll remember.
 * Blackwall: Good. Remembering is the only way you learn.
 * Cole: It hurts.
 * Blackwall: It does.
 * Cole: I'm sorry you have to stay. It wouldn't work for them. You were trying to fix it. It isn't your fault.
 * Blackwall: What isn't my fault?
 * Cole: They wanted Blackwall, not Rainier. That's why they're angry.
 * Blackwall: Angry...really? I thought I was just imagining all the frowning faces. Care to tear into me as well, now that you know?
 * Cole: No.
 * Blackwall: You who heal the helpless... you're not angry about what I was hiding?
 * Cole: You never hid from me. Mockingbird, mockingbird... too many voices in the carriage. Maker, they're young. If I tell my men to stop, they'll know it was all a lie. Cold. Trapped. Heart hammering like axes on a carriage door.
 * Blackwall: Stop... please.
 * Blackwall: Cole. If you know what I am...what I'd done... why didn't you tell the others?
 * Cole: Everyone hides dead things. Everyone pretends. You wanted to fix it.
 * Blackwall: I'm a murderer.
 * Cole: You don't want to be. You made a new you. You ARE Blackwall. You killed Rainier.
 * Blackwall: If only that were possible.
 * Cole: You would stand between Rainier and the carriage. But you can't. It doesn't work like that. So you carry the bodies to remember.
 * Blackwall: I suppose I do.
 * Blackwall: This Templar who hurt you... you made him forget?
 * Cole: Yes. He knows he left the Templars, but I'm not there. He just knows they made him someone he didn't want to be.
 * Blackwall: Why did you do that? You shouldn't have taken that from him.
 * Cole: Why?
 * Blackwall: Taking away a bad memory is one thing. Taking away guilt is another. Without that guilt, it's as though he never killed you.
 * Cole: Isn't the world better that way?
 * Blackwall: I... don't know.
 * Cole: I understand. Making the Templar forget what he did to me is like making you forget Rainier.
 * Blackwall: I... yes. Perhaps.
 * Cole: My pain was his pain. It made the amulet not work. We both had to let it go.
 * Blackwall: But now he doesn't remember what he did.
 * Cole: Isn't me not hurting more important than him being punished?
 * Blackwall: (Sighs.) We are a pair, you and I. The victim and the murderer. If it helps you, lad, then I am glad you forgave him.
 * Cole: You think that if you forget, you'll become like that again. But you're not him. You have other things to carry. You can put the bodies down.
 * Blackwall: Thank you.
 * Blackwall: You know, Cole, you're not so bad, but I'll never get used to the things that come out of your mouth.
 * Cole: There was once a man who had bees coming out of his mouth.
 * Blackwall: A perfect example.

Blackwall and Dorian

 * Dorian: A Grey Warden Recruiter. That sounds interesting.
 * Blackwall: It's not easy finding people willing to shoulder such a terrible responsibility.
 * Dorian: Here I thought you poked around prisons, hunting for murderers desperate to escape the noose.
 * Blackwall: That's what you think of the Wardens?
 * Dorian: It's not such a terrible thing. Some of my best friends are murderers.
 * Blackwall: They are men and women, atoning for what they've done by giving of themselves. They fight for people like you. People in silks and velvets. Who talk... and judge.
 * Dorian: Who's judging now?
 * Blackwall: I know your kind.


 * Dorian: What do you know of "my kind", Blackwall?
 * Blackwall: I know that what comes out of your mouth is the same drivel that comes out of theirs.
 * Dorian: It might sound that way to someone who's been clubbed on the head too often.
 * Blackwall: Careful I don't club you on the head.
 * Dorian: That's what I'd expect from your kind.


 * Blackwall: Dorian, I can't believe you drank that swill at the tavern.
 * Dorian: I can't believe they served that swill at the tavern. What is Skyhold coming to?
 * Blackwall: Then why did you drink it?
 * Dorian: I couldn't stop. With every sip, it was, "It can't be that bad, can it?"
 * Dorian: Before I knew it, I was analyzing the nuances of its flavor, observing its effect on my nausea.
 * Dorian: I was in a catatonic trance, fueled by the stench of disgusting dwarven ale.
 * Blackwall: Or you're a drunkard with terrible taste.
 * Dorian: There is that.


 * Blackwall: How do you get your hair to do that, Dorian? With magic?
 * Dorian: With proper hygiene and grooming. Maybe all three of you should get acquainted.


 * Dorian: I've often wondered what the average man thinks about mage freedom.
 * Blackwall: If you really cared, you could ask.
 * Blackwall: Oh, but wait. That would involve talking to a dirty commoner like me.
 * Dorian: True. So much for that.
 * Blackwall: I would prefer you stop referring to me as “that hairy lummox”
 * Dorian: Now when did I do that?
 * Blackwall: The tavern, the smithee, the servants, you said it to the gate guards as we left Skyhold.


 * Dorian: Hmm. That does sound like me.


 * Dorian: You caught the eye of a young woman in that last village, Blackwall.
 * Blackwall: I'm sure you're mistaken.
 * Dorian: You're right. She was undoubtedly looking at me.


 * Blackwall: Corypheus. One of yours, isn't he?
 * Dorian: One of mine? Like a pet? Like a giant darkspawn hamster with aspirations of godhood?
 * Dorian: "Dorian, why can't you look after your little friends? Corypheus peed on the carpet again!"
 * Dorian: In this analogy, the carpet is Haven.
 * Blackwall: Is he or is he not a Tevinter Magister?
 * Dorian: Meaning "the source of everything bad and evil in the world?" They are the same, yes?
 * Blackwall: Certainly feels that way at times.

(If the Inquisitor romanced Blackwall)
 * Blackwall: I understand you were asking about me and the Inquisitor at Skyhold, Dorian.
 * Dorian: Only verifying certain rumors, big man. You understand.
 * Blackwall: I'm not certain I do. Why the interest?
 * Dorian: Academic? Future generations will want to know.
 * Blackwall: LEAVE. IT. BE.

(If the Inquisitor chose to seek the mages' help to close the Breach)

Blackwall and Iron Bull

 * Iron Bull: Something's funny about you.
 * Blackwall: Oh?
 * Iron Bull: Yeah. You talk about Grey Wardens and honor and sacrifice and griffons, but you're still not convinced.
 * Blackwall: Not convinced?
 * Iron Bull: Yes, you know what I mean.
 * Blackwall: And you know this because?
 * Iron Bull: I'm a people person.


 * Iron Bull: You know one thing I miss about Par Vollen? Bananas.
 * Iron Bull: They're bigger. Less squishy. And bendier.
 * Blackwall: You're talking about the fruit, right?
 * Blackwall: Please, tell me you're talking about the fruit.


 * Iron Bull: You're good with that sword!
 * Blackwall: Thanks.
 * Iron Bull: I see all that time on your own has given you a firm grip.


 * Iron Bull: Blackwall.
 * Blackwall: Iron Bull.
 * Iron Bull: We could fight crime.
 * Blackwall: Isn't that exactly what we're doing, right this minute, more or less?
 * Iron Bull: Oh, uh... yeah.


 * Blackwall: Have you considered incorporating Headbutts into your fighting style?
 * Iron Bull: Oh, yes, tried it a few times. No luck.
 * Blackwall: Too easy for enemies to defend against?
 * Iron Bull: A little. I'm big enough that I've gotta lean down to make it work on most people. You see it coming.
 * Iron Bull: Did it once with a charge, though; got a vint on each horn.
 * Blackwall: Nicely done.
 * Iron Bull: Yes, except for the part where they were both hanging from my head yelling for the rest of the fight.
 * Blackwall: Ah, point taken. So to speak.


 * Blackwall: You sacrificed your own men.
 * Iron Bull: I'm Qunari. We don't flinch from duty.
 * Blackwall: Your men trusted you. You betrayed that trust when you left them to die.
 * Iron Bull: No.
 * Blackwall: No?
 * Iron Bull: Two key differences between you and me, Rainier.
 * Iron Bull: First, I didn't kill a wagon full of kids.
 * Iron Bull: My men were holding a position to secure an objective. I mourn their loss and honor their sacrifice.
 * Iron Bull: And second, I'm proud of who I am. I hope that's not a problem for you.
 * Blackwall: Not unless you ask me to hold a hill, Qunari.

(This part only happens if the conversation occurs after Blackwall's personal quest. Otherwise, it goes straight to "I'd rather fight for a cause.")
 * Iron Bull: You could have been one of the Chargers, Blackwall. You’ve got the stature, the attitude.
 * Blackwall: And you'd be my boss.
 * Iron Bull: Hey, I’m a great boss. I’m a firm believer in “No-Pants Fridays”.
 * Blackwall: And a mercenary. I'm done with that part of my life.
 * Iron Bull: Why? Because you're better now? Because there's something wrong with working for gold?
 * Iron Bull: Think about my guys. They're honest with themselves.
 * Iron Bull: You could have learned that lesson.
 * Blackwall: I’d rather fight for a cause.
 * Iron Bull: Hey, “No-Pants Fridays” is a cause.


 * Iron Bull: Now, isn't this better? Getting the burden of that lie off your chest?
 * Blackwall: And exchanging it for the burden of everyone hating me?
 * Blackwall: Yes, so much better.
 * Iron Bull: Hey, I don’t hate you. You and me? We’re good.
 * Iron Bull: Now that you know who you are, you can stop doubting yourself and start hitting crap again.
 * Blackwall: Why don't we hit a few bottles first, eh?


 * Iron Bull: I used to think it was just me who thought that you humans all look alike.
 * Blackwall: And now?
 * Iron Bull: Clearly, you guys can't tell each other apart either.
 * Iron Bull: How the crap did you live as some other guy for all those years?
 * Blackwall: I grew a beard.
 * Iron Bull: (Laughs.) Really? Puts some hair on your face and no one can tell who you are anymore?
 * Iron Bull: That's some disguise, big guy.
 * Blackwall: And I didn't talk to anyone for months at the time.
 * Iron Bull: Alright. That probably helped.


 * Iron Bull: Hey Blackwall. What would your ideal blade be forged from?
 * Blackwall: Well, many famous Warden blades were made from Silverite. It seems to work well on Darkspawn.
 * Blackwall: And you? Clearly a man who enjoys a good blade. Bloodstone, perhaps?
 * Iron Bull: Nah, Bloodstone's great at holding an edge, but that sharpness leads to brittle.
 * Iron Bull: You may not have noticed, but I'm not a finesse fighter. I guess I'd go with Dawnstone.
 * Blackwall: Dawnstone? That's even more brittle than Bloodstone.
 * Iron Bull: Yes. Really damn pretty, though.
 * Blackwall: It's pink.
 * Iron Bull: It's PRETTY.


 * Iron Bull: Hey Furrows.
 * Blackwall: What? Me?
 * Iron Bull: Yes. Furrows between the eyes. Moping. Lost in your own issues.
 * Blackwall: Can't a man think without being judged for it?
 * Iron Bull: I'm not judging. I was gonna say you're pretty good at it.
 * Iron Bull: I can't pull that off.
 * Blackwall: A tragedy, for sure.
 * Iron Bull: And I mean, if you're going to brood, you might as well reap the benefits.
 * Blackwall: What benefits?
 * Iron Bull: The ladies.
 * Blackwall: (Sighs.)

Blackwall and Sera
─────── ─────── ─────── ─────── ───────
 * Blackwall: That breach is hard to look away from sometimes.
 * Sera: Why? You know what it looks like.
 * Blackwall: No. No it doesn't.
 * Sera: You knoooow.
 * Sera: Look at you, all serious. What do Wardens do when there’s no Blight, anyway?
 * Blackwall: Whatever it takes to keep the world safe.
 * Sera: Like join Inquisitions.
 * Blackwall: If that’s what’s necessary. Hey, you’re here too.
 * Sera: (Laughs.) The Inquisition can’t be all broody beards like you and Cassandra.
 * Blackwall: She doesn’t have the hair for it.
 * Sera: Oh, I’d bet she does. Places.
 * Cassandra: That's enough!
 * Sera: Kneeew it!
 * Sera: The kitchen wouldn't give me cakes because Josie, oh so prim, was sending them to allies.
 * Blackwall: Why cakes when you can give them a two-fingered salute and a box full of dog shit.
 * Sera: (Laughs.)
 * Blackwall: You know I hate the aristocracy as much as you do. I hate that they sit in palaces, sipping wine while people starve outside their gates. I hate that good soldiers die in senseless wars over who gets the fancy chair.
 * Blackwall: Still, it's better to have the nobility on your side than not. They're dogs, all of them, and even the primped and powered ones have teeth.
 * Sera: (Laughs.) "Box of dog shit." That's a good one.
 * Sera: Beardy!
 * Blackwall: Fuzzhead.
 * Sera: (Laughs.) G
 * Sera: So, I've been thinking--No jokes, the lot of you--I thought Josie was kissing ass, getting right up in there. But she's actually been fooling nobs all along. Good, too.
 * Blackwall: Milady's adept at her special brand of warfare.
 * Sera: All smiles and pleases, like giving us their stuff does them a favor twice over. And they love her for it! Best idea ever. I'll have to steal that one.
 * Blackwall: Yes, Sera, you go right on ahead.
 * Sera: Still on about milady Josie and her tricky tongue. Here's how I'll do it too.

─────── ───────
 * Sera: I find a nob right and I seduce him.
 * Blackwall: You'll what? I worry where this might be going.
 * Sera:  Wait, not done yet.
 * Sera: He thinks he's being seduced, but when it's time for slap and tickle, I jump up and say "I like your wife better!" (Laughs.)
 * Blackwall: And the goal would be?
 * Sera: He thinks he's in charge, but he isn't! I am!
 * Blackwall: I don't know what to say.
 * Sera: Then I'll punch him, to make sure he gets it!
 * Blackwall: Oh Sera... I do love you.
 * Sera: Hey, do you think they'll have pie when we get back? I could use a pie. Or three.
 * Blackwall: That's... a lot of pie for one person.
 * Sera: You'd understand if you've ever been hungry. In your bones hungry.
 * Blackwall: Hey. When this is all done, if you ever need my help for anything, you just ask. Alright?
 * Sera: Knew it! I knew you could be one of us!
 * Blackwall: Us? That... Red Jenny thing-- I... I didn't mean--
 * Sera: It will be brilliant, right? You can flip some tables, show some nobles your arse, or something--
 * Blackwall: No one needs to see my arse.

──────
 * Sera: I knooow!

(If the Inquisitor romanced Blackwall) ───────
 * Sera: (Teases.) I know what you diiid...! You two, in the loft.
 * Blackwall: Uh, h-how did you--?
 * Sera: Just do. 'Cause I know things.
 * Blackwall: (Whispers.) Could we not speak so loudly about these things that you know?
 * Sera: Too late for that. You're the one scaring horses, getting hay up your nooks. Crannies.
 * Blackwall: (Sighs.)

(If Blackwall and the Inquisitor breakup) ─────── ─────── ─────── ─────── ─────── ─────── ─────── ─────── ───────
 * Sera: It's rough, innit, Blackwall? But they come and go.
 * Blackwall: Sera, don't.
 * Sera: Right, right...you're set on being sad forever. But then the sun freakin' comes up.
 * Blackwall: Yes, well, it's not that easy.
 * Sera: Didn't say it was. I implied I didn't care. Uh-huh, that's right. Implied.
 * Blackwall: (laughs)
 * Sera: You better laugh. I had to ask Solas for that one.
 * Sera: So you gonna squeeze up to her or not?
 * Blackwall: What? Squeeze up to who?
 * Sera: Lady Josie. I've seen you doing that knightly stuff.
 * Blackwall: Maker, Sera. No, stay out of it.
 * Sera: You're all shy. What, you think you can't treat her right?
 * Blackwall: No, it's not--
 * Sera: I'll show you. I just need a peach, a ripe one, 'cause if you do it right...ripe, down there.
 * Blackwall: Please, no peaches, ripe or otherwise.
 * Sera: Well I can't teach you bananas. That would be like showing you swords. Oh, remember: do not use it like a sword.
 * Blackwall: How do I make this stop?
 * Blackwall: Did you know that in Ostwick they hold races with greased cheese. They butter up a cheese about the size of a small wagon wheel and see how far they can run with it.
 * Sera: That sounds daft as anything.
 * Blackwall: It's culture.
 * Sera: Well culture can get in my mouth.
 * Sera: Do all Grey Wardens have beards?
 * Blackwall: No, just me. I stole all the beards... and all the power held within.
 * Blackwall: There can be only one.
 * Sera: Not really!
 * Sera: I once saw the Empress' arse.
 * Blackwall: Congratulations!
 * Sera: Well, I didn't. I drew it and someone said it was a good likeness.
 * Sera: That's a story about trust.
 * Sera: I like you, you don't talk about elfy stuff.
 * Blackwall: Like you know what you're talking about.
 * Sera: Right. Well... Pppbbthh! (Laughs.)
 * Sera: Always knew you were up to something.
 * Blackwall: Sorry.
 * Sera: For what? Trying? Better than most ever do.
 * Sera: I don't get it. If you want to change, just change. Why this fake warden rubbish?
 * Blackwall: For one, people wanted me dead. Being someone else kept me breathing.
 * Blackwall: And then, knowing that people thought I was good, made it easier.
 * Sera: (Laughs.) You needed them to think you could, so you could think you could!
 * Sera: (Laughs.) You're smart, but you're sort of stupid.
 * Sera: You didn't always have a beard.
 * Blackwall: I didn't emerge from my mother with a hairy face, no.
 * Sera: I saw a sketch of Todd Reynard. No beard.
 * Blackwall: Warden Blackwall had a beard.
 * Sera: Ohhhh. That explains everything.
 * Blackwall: You should learn to watch your back.
 * Sera: Well, you need to... your arse!
 * Sera: No, your mom's arse!
 * Blackwall: (Sighs.) Great. I'm glad we understand each other.

Blackwall and Solas

 * Blackwall: Elfroot. Do elves just call it "root?"
 * Solas: No, we have another name for it.
 * Blackwall: Well, that's no fun.
 * Solas: You spend too much time with Sera.


 * Blackwall: Sera and I were just talking about you. We need you to settle a question for us.
 * Solas: (Sighs.) Sera's involved? So this question will be offensive.
 * Blackwall: Yes, probably. Sorry.
 * Blackwall: You make friends with spirits in the Fade. So... um, are there any that are more than just friends?
 * Blackwall: If you know what I mean.
 * Solas: Oh, for ... really?
 * Blackwall: Look, it's a natural thing to be curious about!
 * Solas: For a twelve year old!
 * Blackwall: It's a simple yes or no question!
 * Solas: Nothing about the Fade or spirits is simple, especially not that.
 * Blackwall: Aha! So you do have experience in these matters!
 * Solas: I did not say that.
 * Blackwall: Don't panic. It'll be our little secret.
 * Solas: Ass.
 * Blackwall: (Laughs.) Now who's twelve?


 * Solas: You have seen a great deal of battle.
 * Blackwall: We all have.
 * Solas: Not all, not like you. You live and breathe war. You understand it. It is home to you.
 * Blackwall: What's that supposed to mean?
 * Solas: We have both seen terrible things. We have watched death and destruction render that which we love unrecognizable.
 * Solas: It is calming to see something familiar in another.


 * Blackwall: Those red templars... how could any soldier let that happen to them?
 * Solas: They were templars.
 * Blackwall: I suppose you might look down upon them, as a mage.
 * Solas: It is not looking down upon them to recognize what they are.
 * Solas: Some, like Ser Barris, are thoughtful soldiers doing what they believe is right.
 * Solas: The rest? Younger sons, petty criminals, thugs, bullies, orphans...
 * Solas: Either they are accustomed to a life without choices, to following even the worst orders...
 * Solas: Or they have learned to enjoy causing pain, to leap at any chance to swing a sword harder.


 * Blackwall: What happened at Redcliffe, have you ever seen its like, Solas?
 * Solas: The distortion of time? I have seen magic accomplish many things, but ... no, that is new.
 * Blackwall: Magic has little place in a war between men.
 * Solas: Many mages are brutes, seeing nothing more than a larger ball of fire.
 * Solas: But those with imagination, those who use war to push the limits of the possible ...
 * Blackwall: I wish the Chantry could better enforce restrictions against its use.
 * Solas: Such rules never hold. Any who want victory will find some reason their cause merits exception.
 * Solas: The best we can do is ensure the world still stands when this fight ends.
 * Blackwall: I am sorry about your... friend. Losing someone is difficult.
 * Solas: Thank you. The death itself was less painful than what came before.
 * Solas: Seeing a good spirit twisted, its nature defiled.
 * Solas: Those mages knew nothing of my friend. Worse, they did not care.
 * Blackwall: I didn't know.
 * Solas: Nor will you, until you've seen ignorance snatch away all that you love.
 * Solas: Pray such a day never finds you.


 * Solas: The Wardens see themselves as the world's defense against the Blight, do they not?
 * Blackwall: Yes... why do you sound so skeptical? Doesn't everyone know this?
 * Solas: When an Archdemon rises, they slay it. What will they do when all the Archdemons are slain? Without Archdemons, there can be no Blights, is that the reasoning?
 * Blackwall: Right. Where are you going with this?
 * Solas: Nowhere. I hope they are correct.

─────── ───────
 * Solas: I heard you in the training yard this morning.
 * Blackwall: Oh. (Sighs.) I was running new recruits through some drills. Should I be quieter next time?
 * Solas: No, no... It's fine. Children don't learn unless you shout at them.
 * Solas: I will remember this. When it is over.
 * Blackwall: This? This war? The Inquisition?
 * Solas: The people. How you fought against the tide. It is... courageous.

(If the Inquisitor romanced Blackwall)
 * Solas: So, you and the Inquisitor are together.
 * Blackwall: Yes. Is that a problem?
 * Solas: Far from it. People should seize any chance for a moment's respite in times such as these. I am glad you have allowed yourself some happiness.
 * Blackwall: I expected you to think I should keep punishing myself.
 * Solas: I would be concerned if you forgot your past, but that seems unlikely. Beyond that, guilt is a distraction, one we can ill afford.
 * Blackwall: What of you, then? Have you found someone to share "a moment's respite"?
 * Solas: I find my peace elsewhere.

Blackwall and Varric
─────── ───────
 * Varric: Let's talk about your dark and troubled past.
 * Blackwall: Excuse me?
 * Varric: You have one, of course. Someone dear to you? Someone you failed to save?
 * Varric: Or a grave error in judgement, causing too many deaths? I've known a couple people like that.
 * Varric: Ooh, maybe betrayal! That's always good.
 * Blackwall: No.
 * Varric: You've got to give me something.
 * Blackwall: No, I don't. This conversation is over.
 * Varric: (Sighs.) Touchy.
 * Blackwall: I once met a dwarf who made the best home-brewed ale.
 * Varric: I once met a Grey Warden who got possessed by a spirit and then blew up a Chantry and killed a hundred people.
 * Varric: What makes people think you want to hear what others of your kind have done, anyway?
 * Varric: You remind me of someone. Pious bastard, wore blinding white armor, told me my shots veered left.

─────── ─────── ─────── ─────── ─────── ───────
 * Blackwall: I can see how that describes me perfectly.
 * Varric: It's just ... all that niceness. He was just so ... nice.
 * Blackwall: Nice. Right. I take it you didn't like this person.
 * Varric: Sebastian would have taken that as a compliment.
 * Varric: So it was just you, alone in the vast wilderness?
 * Blackwall: What are you on about?
 * Varric: The Lone Wanderer, searching the world. What's he trying to find? Love? Absolution?
 * Blackwall: Try, 'Someone with a strong arm and stronger will to fight darkspawn.'
 * Varric: Yes, but what does that represent?
 * Blackwall: Wanting to kill more darkspawn.
 * Varric: You're just like Sebastian.
 * Varric: Maybe I've been too hard on you.
 * Blackwall: Oh, so you don't think I'm dreadful now?
 * Varric: Actually, I thought you were boring before. Completely different. We're all dreadful.
 * Varric: Every one of us, fundamentally flawed in a hundred different ways.
 * Varric: That's why we're here, isn't it? Take all the risks, so the good people stay home where it's safe.
 * Varric: Cassandra's still not speaking to you?
 * Blackwall: I don't know. It'll take time to earn back her trust, if I ever do.
 * Varric: Well, she does hate it when people lie to her. At least she didn't stab you in the book.
 * Blackwall: Don't you mean "the back"?
 * Varric: No, I mean the book. Definitely the book.
 * Blackwall: I've got one for you, Varric. Best tavern name you've ever seen.
 * Blackwall: I'm torn between, "The Bed and Bucket" and "The Bottom of the Barrel."
 * Varric: Oooh! That is a tough one. I think I have to go with "The Neighbor's House", for sheer balls.
 * Blackwall: This guard captain from Kirkwall that you're friends with...
 * Varric: She's stronger than you.
 * Blackwall: Right. Just checking.
 * Varric: Got a name for the sword?
 * Blackwall: Slasher?
 * Blackwall: Gasher?
 * Blackwall: Pokey?
 * Varric: Eh, go with Pokey, you seem like a Pokey.


 * Blackwall: So is it true that the Knight Commander of Kirkwall became a ... statue?
 * Varric: One hundred percent true. She is still bringing an extra level of horror to the Gallows.
 * Blackwall: You mean they haven't moved her?
 * Varric: Well if they did that, then the children couldn't play who is brave enough to touch Meredith.
 * Blackwall: They don't really do that? Do they?
 * Varric: No... No one is brave enough to touch Meredith...

Blackwall and Vivienne
───────
 * Blackwall: Are you alright, Lady Vivienne?
 * Vivienne: Whatever are you talking about, darling?
 * Blackwall: In our last fight, I saw you take a blow. If I'd been there quicker—
 * Vivienne: Oh, aren't you precious?
 * Blackwall: I appear to have offended.
 * Vivienne: No, dear. You couldn't possibly offend me.
 * Blackwall:You must miss the comforts of your mansion, traveling with us as you do.
 * Vivienne:I miss them. I do not require them. But please, continue to imagine me a pampered lady, if it makes you feel superior.


 * Blackwall: What fault do you find with me, Vivienne? I've tried to be civil.
 * Vivienne: Darling, your civility has so little to do with your faults. I wouldn't let that trouble you.
 * Blackwall: Then what am I doing wrong?
 * Vivienne: Just keep hitting things, my dear. Don't worry your little head about the rest.


 * Blackwall: Would you like a silk handkerchief to wipe the mud off your greaves, lady Vivienne?
 * Vivienne: (Laughs.) It’s just mud! Mud bothers me as much as your clumsy mockery, which is to say, not at all.


 * Vivienne: Will you put your shield down? The light glinting off it pierces my eyes.
 * Blackwall: Says the woman encrusted in crystals.
 * Vivienne: They are fine quality crystals.

(If the Inquisitor romanced Blackwall)
 * Vivienne: Well, you two seem to make each other happy.
 * Blackwall: And? Surely, you're not ending this on a complimentary note.
 * Vivienne: I was just wondering how you imagined your future. The Inquisitor and the-- well, whatever you are now.
 * Blackwall: Ah, I see. You think we're a poor match.
 * Blackwall: Lady Vivienne, that woman there will stand with Thedas' mightiest because of who she is.
 * Blackwall: She may choose whomever she pleases, even an undeserving nobody.
 * Blackwall: Envy her for her ability to love freely, but recognize that envy is what it is.


 * Blackwall: I am sorry for your loss.
 * Vivienne: Thank you.
 * Blackwall: I do mean it, despite our differences.
 * Vivienne: You are very kind, but you needn't concern yourself.


 * Blackwall: Evidently, I offend you just by existing, Vivienne. What is it you want me to do?
 * Vivienne: I'm sure I don't know, darling. Do you imagine I spend all my waking hours worrying about your self-improvement?
 * Blackwall: Look, I wasn't trying to imply that you--
 * Vivienne: My dear Blackwall, there's nothing you can do to make your Order relevant to our present situation.
 * Vivienne: You really must stop assuming everything is about you. It's unbecoming.