Wynne's dialogue contains a list of the conversations that Wynne shares with the other companions, in which they discuss each other's backgrounds, and their reactions to the game's events.

Wynne's remarks[edit | edit source]

  • (added to the party) "Yes."
  • (taken out of the party) "Horsefeathers!"
  • (entering the main market) "I once had my portrait painted by an artist in the square here. It wasn't very good."
  • (entering Gnawed Noble Tavern) "I wonder if they have a good plum wine..."
  • (outside the Wonders of Thedas) "Oh, the 'Wonders of Thedas!' I haven't been here in ages."
  • (inside the Wonders of Thedas) "Hmm, jade, carved and polished into the shape of a large... Oh, I see. Well, that's just... rude."
  • (entering The Pearl) "Touch nothing! I don't think they clean the surfaces in this place very often."
  • (outside Eamon's estate) "I believe Arl Eamon's father had that fountain built. First one in Denerim. Of course, after that all the other nobles had to have one."
  • (Alienage gates) "I've never been in an alienage. Life must be... hard here."
  • (at the vhenadahl tree) "What a gorgeous tree. I wonder how old it is."
  • (entering the Senior Mage Quarters) "Owain's room is near here. I hope he's all right."
  • (in Irving's study) "This is Irving's office. I half-expected to find him here, but... I suppose that's too much to hope for."
  • (entering the Great Hall) "Everyone's gone... or dead. I fear the worst."
  • (seeing the corruption in the Templar Quarters) "T-this cannot continue. We have to stop it..."
  • (being sedated by the Sloth Demon) "Resist. You must resist, else we are all lost."
  • (Confronting the Sloth Demon) "You will not hold us, demon. We found each other in this place and you cannot stand against us."
  • (approaching Cullen) (Gasp) It's a templar! He... he's still alive, I think! We must help him!"
  • (collecting the fourth Apprentice Note) "The tower was here long before the Circle. It was always unlikely that we were the first to bring magic to its halls."
  • (collecting the final Apprentice Note) "Doesn't read like we'll find our fair apprentice in one piece."
  • (defeating Shah Wyrd) "A strange thing. Pure, literal distraction."
  • (outside Redcliffe chantry) "These people don't deserve what has happened to them. We must get to the bottom of this."
  • (approaching the windmill in Redcliffe) "Isn't it beautiful? Standing here, you wouldn't know of the trouble down in the village."
  • (secret tunnel into Redcliffe dungeon) "Oh. (Sighs) I hate these places. At the very least it doesn’t look to be much used."
  • (Going up the first slope in Haven) "Well, this is nice. Mountain air, quiet village. But where is everyone?"
  • (up the slope leading to the chantry) "Is everyone in the chantry? These villagers are a remarkably pious bunch."
  • (entering the Ruined Temple) "By the shifting skies of the Fade… this is… magnificent."
  • (entering the Ruined Temple library) "Books! Oh, I would love to spend a day here!"
  • (statue of Maferath) "Maferath--Andraste’s earthly husband, and Her betrayer."
  • (statue of Hessarian) "Archon Hessarian --he is the one who converted Tevinter to the worship of the Maker."
  • (mountain caverns) "Have we been turned around? How does anyone navigate these halls?"
  • (on the Mountain Top after seeing the high dragon) "Oh, I'm not afraid. It wouldn't eat me anyhow. Tough and stringy. You, on the other hand... ought to be worried."
  • (entering the Gauntlet) "Do you feel that? This place is practically infused with magic."
  • (entering the bridge puzzle room) "Well, looks like there's only one way forward."
  • (suggesting puzzle's solution) "Do you think those interesting looking sections of floor on the side of this chasm have something to do with getting across?"
  • (a plate is triggered) "I can see a bridge, but it is clearly incorporeal. There's no way to cross on that."
  • (solving the bridge puzzle in the Gauntlet) "Well, that was fascinating. How do you think that was accomplished? Mirrors? Magic?"
  • (entering the urn room) "I... I thought it was a legend. I didn't believe..."
  • (approaching the urn) "I could not have asked for a greater honor than to be here. I will never forget this feeling."
  • (greeting Harhen Sarel) "I am Wynne, Sarel. It is a pleasure to meet you" (Dalish Origin required)
  • (in the Dalish Camp) "I never thought I'd ever set foot in a Dalish camp."
  • (near the halla pen of the Dalish Camp) "I hear only the Dalish can control the halla... they listen to no one else."
  • (entering the Brecilian Forest) "Many enter this forest and are never seen again. Let's hope we don't join them."
  • (near the Tevinter ruins) "There’s something about this place that makes my skin crawl."
  • (after the werewolves retreat into the ruins) "Be on your guard… I think we’re being watched."
  • (descending down the first stairs in the Ruins Upper Level) "I wonder what this ruin used to be. Is it Tevinter, or elven?"
  • (hearing the dragon in the ruins) "Did you hear that? Sounds like… loud breathing…"
  • (entering Frostback Mountain surface camp) "Oh, my. I didn't expect it to be this crowded."
  • (observing the Paragon statues) "How magnificent. These must be the statues of the dwarven Paragons."
  • (entering Orzammar Commons) "For a tiny people they certainly build high ceilings...""
  • (exit to the Deep Roads) "Does that lead out to the Deep Roads? I hear they're crawling with darkspawn."
  • (outside Tapster's Tavern) "Is that drunken singing I hear?"
  • (entering Tapster’s Tavern) "Oh, wonderful! A dwarven tavern! I’ve always wanted to try some of their ale. I hear it’s quite potent."
  • (entering Dust Town) "Oh dear. The differences between this side of town and the others is... striking."
  • (at the Proving) "They don't kill each other in the arena, do they? I mean... why would anyone find that entertaining? Ugh."
  • (entering the Diamond Quarter) "Oh, this is grand. The noble houses do love their luxuries, don't they?"
  • (outside the palace) "So this is the seat of the king. Except he isn’t sitting there at the moment, I suppose."
  • (scenic vista) "Wonder why they decided to build a city around streams of lava. It's an accident waiting to happen."
  • (entering Bownammar) "Oh, I can just imagine how grand this fortress must have been, before the darkspawn took it."
  • (entering Anvil of the Void) "We must be getting close. Can this Branka have existed down here for so long and remained approachable?"
  • (Delivering Notice of Death) "My most sincere apologies, my dear. This letter will explain everything." or "This is among the hardest things I've had to say. Your husband is dead."

Wynne and Alistair[edit | edit source]

  • Wynne: Alistair, what's this?
  • Alistair: It's a sock?
  • Wynne: It's a filthy sock. How did it find its way to my bedroll?
  • Alistair: Maybe it likes you? Socks are sneaky like that. Anyway, it's not mine.
  • Wynne: It has your name stitched on it.
  • Alistair: Oh. Ha, ha. Ha. Part of templar training, back at the Chantry. The men were... always getting their socks mixed up. Anyway, uh, sorry about that. I'll take it from you right now. One of my socks is feeling a little damp anyway. A change would be nice.
  • Wynne: You're going to put it on? It's filthy!
  • Alistair: And dry! We're not exactly traveling in the lap of luxury here.
  • Wynne: What hideous habits you've picked up.
  • Alistair: Wynne?
  • Wynne: Yes, Alistair?
  • Alistair: My shirt has a hole in it.
  • Wynne: I see. And?
  • Alistair: Can you mend it? When we get back to camp?
  • Wynne: Can't you mend your own clothes? Why do I have to do it?
  • Alistair: Sometimes I pick up too much fabric and it ends up all puckered and the entire garment hangs wrong afterward. And you're... you know, grandmotherly. Grandmothers do that sort of thing, don't they? Darning socks and whatnot. You don't want me to have to fight darkspawn in a shirt with a hole, do you? It might get bigger. I might catch cold.
  • Wynne: Oh, all right. I'll mend your shirt the next time we set up camp.
  • Alistair: Ooh! And while you're at it, the elbows kind of need patching too...
  • Wynne: Careful, young man, or puckered garments may be the least of your problems.
  • Alistair: Ow.
  • Wynne: What? Stop fussing with it. You'll make it worse.
  • Alistair: It itches.
  • Wynne: Yes, it's healing. Don't touch it.
  • Alistair: But it's distracting. Can I rub it through the bandage? That's not really scratching.
  • Wynne: Alistair, if you open that wound up, I'm not going to heal it again. You can just treat it yourself. And if it festers, weeping bloody pus, and burns like the flames of Andraste's pyre, don't come to me. All I'm going to say is: "Alistair, didn't I tell you not to touch it?"
  • Alistair: It won't really fester, will it?
  • Wynne: Why don't you try scratching and see?
  • Alistair: I... uh, I guess it doesn't itch so much now.
  • Alistair: So, you... know that I am a Templar, right?
  • Wynne: I believe what I heard was that you were not, in fact, a Templar. You were trained as one before you became a Grey Warden.
  • Alistair: That's right. But I still have... all the abilities of one, of course. That doesn't... make you nervous?
  • Wynne: Should it? I am no apostate. Perhaps you should be directing this question at Morrigan.
  • Alistair: She claims not to be afraid of me... or anything, really. But you've had more experience with the Templars than her. I know how mages can sometimes...
  • Wynne: The Templars serve a function, and a necessary one. If what has happened at the tower proves anything, it is that we mages can be dangerous... even to ourselves.
  • Alistair: That's... one way of looking at it.
  • Wynne: And regardless, you seem like a decent enough young man. If you decide to slaughter me out of hand, I'm sure you would at least inform me first, no?
  • Alistair: Oh, sure... count on it.
  • Alistair: So tell me, you have any children? Grandchildren? I don't know, great grandchildren?
  • Wynne: What would make you think I have any children at all? You have to know I've spent most of my life in the Circle of Magi.
  • Alistair: You just seem like the grandmotherly type to me, I don't know.
  • Wynne: I suppose I'll take that as a comment on my demeanor and not my age.
  • Alistair: Mages aren't forbidden to marry or anything, are they? It's not such an outlandish question.
  • Wynne: Isn't it? What sort of man would marry a mage, do you think?
  • Alistair: How about another mage? There are just as many men as there are women within the Circle, as I recall.
  • Wynne: That sort of union is... not encouraged. Although that does not stop us from seeking out each other's... company from time to time.
  • Alistair: I... all right, suddenly you don't seem quite so grandmotherly to me anymore.
  • Wynne: Good. I would hope not.

(if the Warden is not a mage)

  • Alistair: You know, of all the mages I've met you have to be the first one I can honestly say I've really liked.
  • Wynne: Why thank you, Alistair. I am quite touched. I like you too, Alistair. I imagine my son would have grown up to be someone like you.
  • Alistair: Your son? I thought you said you were never married?
  • Wynne: That's true. I never have been.
  • Alistair: I... oh. Then this wasn't... before you joined the Circle?
  • Wynne: I joined the Circle at the age of nine. So, no. Do you still like me?
  • Alistair: Err... yes? Why wouldn't I?
  • Wynne: Good. It appears you got away from the Chantry just in time.
  • Alistair: So you... mentioned you had a son? What happened to him?
  • Wynne: I honestly don't know, Alistair. He was... taken from me. Such births are seldom, as there are ways to prevent it, but it does happen. And any child born to a Circle mage belongs to the Chantry.
  • Alistair: I... didn't know. I'm sorry.
  • Wynne: It's all right. It was a long time ago. A very long time ago.
  • Alistair: Couldn't you do something about it?
  • Wynne: Do what? I was weak from the birthing process and there were... no, there was nothing I could do.
  • Alistair: Do you think about him?
  • Wynne: All the time.

(if the Warden is in a romance with Alistair)

  • Alistair: Why are you smiling like that? You look suspiciously like the cat who swallowed the pigeon.
  • Wynne: Canary.
  • Alistair: What?
  • Wynne: I look like the cat that swallowed the canary.
  • Alistair: I once had a very large cat, but that's not my point. My point is why are you smirking?
  • Wynne: (Chuckles) You were watching her. With great interest, I might add. In fact, I believe you were...enraptured.
  • Alistair: She's our leader. I look to her for guidance.
  • Wynne: Oh, I see. So what guidance did you find in those swaying hips hmm?
  • Alistair: No no no, I wasn't looking at...you know her...hind-quarters
  • Wynne: Certainly.
  • Alistair: I gazed...glanced, in that direction, maybe, but I wasn't staring...or really seeing anything even.
  • Wynne: Of course.
  • Alistair: I hate you. You're a bad person.

(if the Warden is in a romance with Alistair)

  • Wynne: Alistair, may I have a word?
  • Alistair: Of course - anything for my favouritest mage ever. ("second favourite mage" if Warden is a mage)
  • Wynne: It seems you and our fearless leader are inseparable these days. Joined at the hip, almost.
  • Alistair: That's a bit of an overstatement, don't you think?
  • Wynne: Well then, now that you're in an intimate relationship, you should learn about where babies really come from.
  • Alistair: Pardon?
  • Wynne: I know the Chantry says you dream about your babies and the good Fade spirits take them out of the Fade and leave them in your arms...but that's not true. Actually what happens is that when a girl and a boy really love each other --
  • Alistair: Andraste's flaming sword! I know where babies come from!
  • Wynne: Do you? Do you really?
  • Alistair: I certainly hope so.
  • Wynne: Oh, all right then. Aww, look, you're all red and mottled. How cute.
  • Alistair: You did that on purpose!
  • Wynne: Now, now Alistair, why would I do such a thing?
  • Alistair: Because you're wicked. That frail old lady act? I'm so not fooled. I'm on to you now.

(if the Warden is in a romance with Alistair)

  • Alistair: Soooo, what would you do if someone told you that they loved you?
  • Wynne: Check their eyesight first, perhaps. Is this someone I should know about?
  • Alistair: No. I mean, pretend you're a woman...
  • Wynne: I am a woman, Alistair. That shouldn't be too hard, but I'll give it a try.
  • Alistair: Ahhh, that's... not what I meant. Just... pretend you're another woman. And someone told you that they loved you. How would you react?
  • Wynne: Well, that depends. Does this someone just blurt it out? Do I love them back? I need context.
  • Alistair: I... I don't know if you love them back. Maybe you do. You've... spent a lot of time with this person.
  • Wynne: Perhaps you need to wait for the right moment? You could get her alone in camp, give her a gift perhaps.
  • Alistair: Oh, I wasn't talking about me... just... forget I said anything.
  • Wynne: (Chuckles) As you wish.

(if the Warden is in a romance with Alistair)

  • Wynne: I think you make her very happy.
  • Alistair: Not this again. I'm ready this time.
  • Wynne: I just wanted to say that this was something good, for both of you. Being a Grey Warden isn't easy. I'm glad you found each other.
  • Alistair: Oh, yes, I bet you are, indeed.
  • Wynne: Cherish this. It may not last.
  • Alistair: And?
  • Wynne: That's all I had to say.
  • Alistair: Really? No pinching my cheeks? No making me blush?
  • Wynne: Of course not. I like you, Alistair. You deserve to be happy.
  • Alistair: Not even pinching my cheeks a little?

(if the Warden is in a romance with Morrigan)

  • Alistair: So you know about him and Morrigan, right? You've heard?
  • Wynne: I think I know what are you talking about, yes.
  • Alistair: And you agree with it? You don't think that it's... dangerous?
  • Wynne: Dangerous for whom? Her? Or him?
  • Alistair: Anyone. She's maleficar... and rotten to the core. How can he even... this can't be a good idea. She can't be a good influence on him.
  • Wynne: I will admit that the thought did cross my mind, several times. But look at it another way...
  • Wynne: Perhaps he will be a good influence on her.
  • Alistair: You know, you are just too understanding about stuff like this. Can't you be more judgmental? I'm trying to rant, here.
  • Wynne: Oh, I'm sorry. You go ahead and rant, dear, and I'll just nod my head if you like.

(after Alistair's heritage is revealed)

  • Wynne: Did you speak often with Cailan?
  • Alistair: You're asking me if I have a relationship with my "brother", aren't you?
  • Wynne: Yes. I wonder what he thought of you.
  • Alistair: I don't think he cared much about my existence. I didn't mean anything to him. Anyway, to answer your original question, no, we never spoke. Well, maybe once. Maric and Cailan had come to Redcliffe to visit the Arl. I was very young then. We were introduced. I believe I said, "Greetings, your Highness." He said, "Ooh! Swords!" and ran off to the armory. So, yes, that was the extent of our relationship. We drifted apart after that. Very sad.

(in the Return to Ostagar DLC, shortly after arriving in the area)

  • Alistair: Something about returning here makes me feel old, Wynne.
  • Wynne: And what exactly are you implying, Alistair?
  • Alistair: What? ...What? N-Nothing! No, I just... thought...
  • Wynne: You just thought I might be an expert at feeling old and could share some sage advice?
  • Alistair: I... I just mean that I was a different person then. I believed him, you know. That it would be a glorious battle, that we would win...
  • Wynne: I did too. We were all a little bit younger the last time we were here.
  • Alistair: Well, not you. You've always been old.
  • Wynne: With lip like that, son, you'll be lucky if you live to be half my age.

(during the Return to Ostagar DLC after obtaining the first of Cailan's items)

  • Wynne: What's the matter, Alistair?
  • Alistair: I don't know. It just feels wrong to find this here, pawed over by darkspawn and thick with their rot. It was his.
  • Wynne: I know, I feel it too. But he is not the first king to ever fall in battle or even the first to fall to the darkspawn.
  • Alistair: Yes but this wound cuts deeper.
  • Wynne: And it will bleed longer. But we must keep moving. No doubt the darkspawn are eager to give us plenty more reasons to mourn.

(in the Return to Ostagar DLC after obtaining the "last" of Cailan's items)

  • Alistair: There it is, the last of them.
  • Wynne: (sigh) It has been a long day. By the lines around your eyes I dare say you look as old as I.
  • Alistair: And if I may say so, milady, you appear to be getting younger by the day.
  • Wynne: Be careful who you flirt with, young man. (chuckle) When you wake up beside me tomorrow morning I'll be back to reminding you of your grandmother.
  • Alistair: Beside you?
  • Wynne: You heard what I said. It would not be the first time I woke to a younger man in my bed.
  • Alistair: Are all women this evil and conniving when they grow old?
  • Wynne: Just me, my dear. (chuckle) Just me.

Wynne and Morrigan[edit | edit source]

  • Wynne: You have a barbed tongue, Morrigan. Tell me, why do you speak to others this way?
  • Morrigan: I owe you no explanation. There is no writing on my forehead that says "Please, guide me!"
  • Wynne: You are traveling with these people. It behooves you to be civil.
  • Morrigan: You are too transparent, old woman. Do not bring up our companions, when all you wish is for me to be civil to you. I am not one of your Circle apprentices, to hang on your every word. I am not Alistair, who sees in you a surrogate mother.
  • Wynne: No, it is obvious you are nothing like Alistair.
  • Morrigan: Take your lectures elsewhere. They mean nothing to me.
  • Wynne: It must have been very difficult for you and your mother, Morrigan, to live always hiding from the Chantry and its hunters.
  • Morrigan: Your pitying tone is as unwelcome as it is unnecessary, old woman. There was nothing difficult about our lives in the slightest.
  • Wynne: But surely you must have drawn notice from time to time. No matter how powerful you claim to be, you would not wish the full attention of the Chantry.
  • Morrigan: Hunters did come into the Wilds from time to time. They did not leave.
  • Wynne: And the interest of the Chantry was never aroused? I find that difficult to believe.
  • Morrigan: I imagine you find many things difficult to believe. Your own preference for the leash you wear, for instance.
  • Wynne: There are good reasons for the world to fear mages, even despite our best intentions.
  • Morrigan: Your best intentions, perhaps. Their fear concerns me not at all.
  • Wynne: What you said before, Morrigan... about the Circle of Magi being a leash... do you truly believe that?
  • Morrigan: Only a fool would think otherwise.
  • Wynne: You would prefer a world where young mages were slain by the ignorant for their talent? Taught to fear their abilities?
  • Morrigan: That is what the Circle teaches. You fear your abilities, instead of reveling in them.
  • Wynne: Believing ourselves to be superior over other men is what led to the Imperium... and the darkspawn.
  • Morrigan: (scoffs) I cannot believe you give credence to such drivel.
  • Wynne: Those who do not heed the lessons of history are doomed to repeat them.
  • Morrigan: Then you need look no further than the elves for an example of what occurs when you allow others to hold your leash.
  • Wynne: I have been thinking about what you said, Morrigan. About the Circle.
  • Morrigan: Allow me to leap to the supposition that you disagree.
  • Wynne: Let us say that the Circle did not exist. What sort of a world would you envision for mages? Would you advocate a return to the days of the Imperium?
  • Morrigan: I advocate nothing. Nature dictates that the strong survive, if they have the will.
  • Wynne: So you prefer a life of hardship and fear, so long as you believe you aren't tethered and free to do as you wish.
  • Morrigan: That is so.
  • Wynne: But are you not here because your mother wished you to be?
  • Morrigan: I could leave if I desired to.
  • Wynne: Of course. It simply strikes me as odd that one who believes in such freedom has never spent any time alone and unprotected.
  • Morrigan: I have spent time alone and unprotected.
  • Wynne: I'm sorry, what?
  • Morrigan: You said earlier that I had spent no time alone - I have. I left the wilds more than once when I was young, to seek more of the world of men.
  • Wynne: Did you return to the Wilds on your own? Or did your mother seek you out?
  • Morrigan: She would never leave the Wilds. I returned on my own. The world of man... is dangerous.
  • Wynne: And frightening, I imagine. Especially for someone ill-prepared for it.
  • Morrigan: But the Circle is no place of safety. 'Tis a place of subjugation.
  • Wynne: Is it? It is by no means perfect, I agree, but consider the alternative. At least other mages can understand our struggle. We can help each other.
  • Morrigan: It is... something to consider, I suppose.
  • Wynne: Well that's certainly something.

(if the Warden is in a romance with Morrigan)

  • Morrigan: You do not approve of me, do you?
  • Wynne: You have to ask? I didn't realize I was being subtle.
  • Morrigan: Ah, the old cat still has her claws, I see. And you also do not approve of my involvement with our stalwart Grey Warden.
  • Wynne: You are dangerous, Morrigan. Dangerous, cunning and thoroughly deceitful. But you are beautiful, and he is young. It's a pity he doesn't know any better.
  • Morrigan: Why, Wynne, I do believe that is the first time you have ever offered a compliment. Thank you.
  • Wynne: Only you would take that as a compliment.
  • Morrigan: Listen, old woman. what happens between myself and him is not your concern. You can approve or not approve as you wish, but this is one thing you cannot influence and mould to your liking.
  • Wynne: So you say. I do hope that one day soon you will discover that neither is he.
  • Morrigan: You mistake my intent, old cat. And you are a fool.
  • Wynne: Am I? Well, let's hope so.

(after Wynne's condition is revealed)

  • Morrigan: You must be vastly relieved, Wynne.
  • Wynne: Relieved? I do not understand what you mean.
  • Morrigan: Most your age would spend much of their time preoccupied, wondering when they might perish. Yet you already know.
  • Wynne: Eavesdropping is not considered very polite, dear.
  • Morrigan: A fortunate thing, then, that I do not consider myself bound by such rules.
  • Wynne: In response to your question, I know only that I died once. I do not know how much time I have left… only that it is very little.
  • Morrigan: That is not so very different from before, surely. You are an old woman.
  • Wynne: One who keenly appreciates that our time in this world should be spent doing what is important.
  • Morrigan: I have always lived by such a philosophy.
  • Wynne: How reassuring.

(after Wynne's condition is revealed)

  • Morrigan: Have you given thought to, perhaps, prolonging your life by forcing another spirit into your service?
  • Wynne: Of course not.
  • Morrigan: I would. Of course I am still young, beautiful, and my life is my own - while you are bound to that Circle. Hmm. I wonder why I asked. It would be a silly thing, prolonging your life. A waste.
  • Wynne: Think what you will, Morrigan. When the end comes, I will go gladly to my rest, proud of my achievements. While you… you will see how empty your life was. You will realize that because you never had love for others, you never received love in return. And you will die alone and unmourned.
  • Morrigan: You speak of meaningless things. I need no one to mourn me, old woman.
  • Wynne: More’s the pity.

Wynne and Oghren[edit | edit source]

  • Oghren: Aye, sure. Why not?
  • Wynne: Pardon?
  • Oghren: Oh, I'd give you a roll. Why not?
  • Wynne: A "roll?"
  • Oghren: Aye. Any time. Preferably in the dark.
  • Wynne: I suppose I should be flattered.
  • Oghren: I'm not sure I have the equipment for that, but sure, whatever gets you working.
  • Oghren: Ah, Wynne... Care to partake of Oghren's fine homebrew? It's the drink of the gods.
  • Wynne: Hm... ale, is it? And I hope it's brewed hygienically?
  • Oghren: Of course! I may not know clean from a beggar's ass when it comes to most things, but I don't mess around with my ale.
  • Wynne: Very well, let's have a taste.
  • Oghren: Well? Well? What do you think?
  • Wynne: Very nice.
  • Oghren: You like it? well, I never...
  • Wynne: Attractive amber color... Nutty flavor, slightly sweet, just a hint of toastiness.... There's some spice to it... I'm finding hard to place...
  • Oghren: Yes? Yes?
  • Wynne: Is it... cloves?
  • Oghren: Cloves! By the stone, you're a lady after my own heart. If I weren't buckled into this armor, I'd take you 'round the corner and... well, you know.
  • Wynne: Give me more ale?
  • Oghren: So, Wynne... how do you know so bleeding much about ale? Have some tawdry tale of misspent youth to tell?
  • Wynne: Nothing quite so interesting, my friend. The Tranquil mages of the Circle just happen to be alchemical miracle-workers, and they brew more than just potions. There was always a pitcher or two of fine ale at our supper table.
  • Oghren: Well, bless my britches... Maybe when all this is done I'll chat up one or two of them quiet mages.
  • Wynne: Uh, Tranquil.
  • Oghren: Tranquil, quiet, insipid... same difference.
  • Oghren: Ugh. Got something in my... Sod it.
  • Wynne: What are you... Never mind, I don't want to know.
  • Oghren: That's right. Keep your nose up. You know, just because we don't all live in some tower in the clouds doesn't mean we're worthless.
  • Wynne: I didn't...
  • Oghren: And furthermore, I don't think I appreciate the way you looked at me the other night.
  • Wynne: The way I... what?
  • Oghren: Oh, you remember. Those longing eyes, hungry for a bit of a tussle...
  • Wynne: I never looked at you, dwarf. Definitely not in that way.
  • Oghren: Oh, you're right. Must have been the dog.
  • Wynne: Here, I bought you a towel, a bar of soap and a razor while we were at the market.
  • Oghren: Aye? What is this for?
  • Wynne: You wash with it.
  • Oghren: I know what soap is, woman! What is this flimsy slip of metal?
  • Wynne: It's a razor. you shave with it.
  • Oghren: Shave! Any warrior worth his salt keeps his beard! That's what I keep telling Alistair.
  • Wynne: It's matted! It has stale food stuck in it!
  • Oghren: Oh, so that's where that bit of herring got to. Anyway, it keeps my face warm. It doesn't have to be pretty. 'Sides, the ladies love it. Tickles them in all the right places if I wag my chin like this.
  • Wynne: Augh! Just take it. Take it!
  • Oghren: You could show me a little appreciation, you know.
  • Wynne: Appreciation? For what?
  • Oghren: I saved your ass a while back! When that thing was... you don't even remember.
  • Wynne: I'm sorry, I--
  • Oghren: No, that's fine. Next time I'll just let it get you, that's all.
  • Oghren: So. I was thinking...
  • Wynne: Listen, dwarf. I am not interested in your innuendos, your propositions, or your bodily emanations.
  • Oghren: But I--
  • Wynne: Quiet!
  • Oghren: I just wanted--
  • Wynne: No! Keep it to yourself! I'm serious!
  • Oghren: Eh, fine.
  • Wynne: Good! Thank you!
  • Oghren: Whatever.
  • Wynne: Why do you occasionally refer to Alistair as a "little pike-twirler?"
  • Oghren: Why? Has the little pike-twirler taken offence?
  • Wynne: It's just a curious description.
  • Oghren: Curious? (Snorts) Bah, it's entirely true. What, you haven't seen him twirling his pike? Goes at it when he thinks no one's watching. Knocks about in the trees like there's no tomorrow. Caught him just the other day. Blushed all the way down to his navel, then couldn't find his shirt. I swear he's going to hurt himself one of these days, the way he works that thing.
  • Wynne: I don't want to hear this anymore, do I?
  • Oghren: I keep telling him, pikes are for sticking things at long range, aye? Horses and such. Not for twirling like a sissy-girl.
  • Wynne: Wait, you're talking about an actual pike? Like a spear?
  • Oghren: Obviously. What else would I be talking about?
  • Wynne: I can't imagine.

(if the Warden has romanced both Leliana and Morrigan)

  • Oghren: So, you're not tossing yourself at the boss?
  • Wynne: Excuse me?
  • Oghren: It seems like every other woman in the band is tossing herself at the boss feet first. It's like a sodding noble's birthday party here.
  • Wynne: Oh, no. The Grey Warden is a little young for me. Both of them are.
  • Oghren: Need someone with a little more experience, I guess, right?
  • Wynne: I suppose.
  • Oghren: Well, you know where to find me.

Wynne and Leliana[edit | edit source]

  • Leliana: You are not religious, yes? You do not believe?
  • Wynne: I do, to some extent. It does not govern my life, however. Why do you ask?
  • Leliana: Oh, nothing. You are just a very good person, and it shows, and I thought at first you were religious, like some of the revered mothers. But no, I thought about it and I realized that you are not.
  • Wynne: I do what I do because I enjoy it; because I enjoy teaching others, helping them. I do not seek recognition for my works. I do not seek the approval of my peers, nor the approval of a distant god.
  • Leliana: That is admirable, doing good for its own sake. Some I knew were not like that. They bragged about what they did, trying to impress others. "Oh, Lady Adele, you fed and clothed twenty orphans, how noble!" "No, no, it is nothing, Lady Clarabelle. You treated forty lepers, and gave them massages!" Like a competition, with false modesty. Sickening.
  • Wynne: Er, did Lady Clarabelle really give forty lepers massages?
  • Leliana: Who knows. Lady Clarabelle had strange tastes. I wouldn't be surprised if she did that, and more.
  • Leliana: You remind me of Lady Cecilie.
  • Wynne: Who?
  • Leliana: She was an Orlesian lady. My mother served her until she died and Lady Cecilie let me stay, instead of turning me out on the street.
  • Leliana: You are like her in some ways. You have the same poise, the same air of nobility.
  • Wynne: Oh, child, I am hardly noble.
  • Leliana: I learned that nobility isn't just something you are born with. I have met nobles who were petty and mean—complete degenerates.
  • Leliana: Then there are people with a certain dignity and grace. It draws you to them, no matter who you are, or who they are.
  • Leliana: I think that the lowest peasant can have the most noble spirit and it will always shine through. It is this nobility of spirit that you share with Cecilie.
  • Wynne: Why... thank you, Leliana. It is very kind of you to say that.
  • Wynne: Do you miss the cloister much? I heard you were quite happy there.
  • Leliana: Yes, I was, generally. It was peaceful and it gave me a new start. No one knew who I was...But sometimes I am glad I am away and back on the road. There were bothersome things about the place... well, bothersome people. Some of the brothers and sisters would talk to you like... like the Chant they spoke was more pleasing to the Maker. Oh, I hated the way they talked down at me. So sometimes I forget the words to the Chant, or say them wrong, but so what? The Maker looks into your heart, no? So it doesn't matter what your lips say as long as your heart is true.
  • Wynne: I think you're missing the point, my dear. The Chantry believes the Chant of Light should be spread around the world. You cannot spread it, if those that are speaking the Chant are speaking it incorrectly.
  • Leliana: But I came to the Maker before I had even heard all of the Chants. The Maker speaks to people; they just don't know how to listen. It is all a power game, I think. If they convince others they know more, then they must be respected.
  • Wynne: Ah, child, it is precisely this kind of talk that made them wary of you. Opinions that differ from your own are always threatening.
  • Wynne: It is sometimes so hard to believe that you have been through so much, at such a young age.
  • Leliana: I think I look younger than I am.
  • Wynne: Yes... yes, that is possible. When I was your age I was just about ready to take on my first apprentice.
  • Wynne: In hindsight, perhaps I should have waited a few more years. I was arrogant, my confidence bolstered by my youth.
  • Leliana: It is so hard to imagine, seeing you now.
  • Wynne: Oh, I've had some two decades or so to grow mellow. Believe me, back then I was quite... prickly.
  • Leliana: So you are like a fine wine, yes? Losing the raw edges over time?
  • Wynne: I suppose there is some truth to that analogy but dear Maker, I do hate being compared to wine. Or cheese.
  • Wynne: Especially cheese.
  • Leliana: It must be a wonderful thing, to be able to weave spells.
  • Wynne: Wonderful? To you, perhaps. Most do not feel the same way
  • Leliana: Oh, what do they know? They are just jealous. The Maker gives you magic; you must use it. You do it so effortlessly. It's like breathing for you. I wish I had such talent.
  • Wynne: Oh, but you do. You have your music, your dancing. You are more graceful than anyone I've ever met. I think that perhaps the Maker gives us all magic... but of different sorts.
  • Leliana: I never thought of it that way. I suppose we all have our little gifts. Back in Orlais, I knew a noble lady who was like most of the other noble ladies—fair of face and slow of wit. Anyway, Catarina had the most uncanny ability to tie knots in the stems of cherries, using only her tongue. It was very impressive. The men, especially, loved watching her.
  • Wynne: Uh, yes, that's exactly the sort of Maker-given magic I was talking about.

(alternate lines if Oghren was recruited)

  • Leliana: Even Oghren?
  • Wynne: Oghren is a dwarf. He doesn't really come from the Maker.
  • Leliana: Oh, yes. That explains it.

(after completing Broken Circle)

  • Leliana: Wynne, is this yours?
  • Wynne: Oh, my bag of components! Thank you, dear... I was wondering where it got to.
  • Leliana: You left it by the fire, at camp.
  • Wynne: Oh... yes, I remember now. How age creeps up on you, and brings with it forgetfulness...
  • Leliana: You're a great mage, Wynne, and you're sharper and wiser than many people I know. Some young ones, too.
  • Wynne: Ah, but you should have seen me fifteen, twenty years ago... the fires have dimmed somewhat since then.
  • Wynne: But thank you, Leliana... for picking up after this old lady.

(after Wynne's condition is revealed)

  • Leliana: I heard about... what happened and I... I don't really know what to say, but I feel like I need to say something. Sorry, perhaps?
  • Wynne: I do not need sympathy, so do not feel obliged to give me comfort. We all die, Leliana, and we all know it. How is this different?
  • Leliana: Because... because it's sooner?
  • Wynne: Is it really? I may die next year, or I may die tomorrow, shot through the heart by a bandit's arrow. I do not know for sure.
  • Wynne: The constant fear of death is enough to take the joy out of anything, especially life.
  • Wynne: Do not worry for me, or for yourself. Death will take us when it wills and till then, we shall live, truly live.

Wynne and Sten[edit | edit source]

  • Wynne: Aren't you chilly, Sten?
  • Sten: "Chilly"? I don't know this word.
  • Wynne: It's much warmer where you're from, isn't it? Don't you feel cold?
  • Sten: I suppose.
  • Wynne: I don't imagine we can find a cloak in your size, can we? Hmmm...
  • Sten: What?
  • Wynne: Nothing. Nothing, don't mind me. Now, I wonder where I could get a skein of good wool yarn...
  • Sten: Why do you keep looking at me like that, mage?
  • Wynne: I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to stare. I've never seen a Qunari before.
  • Sten: You can blink once in a while. I'll still be here.
  • Sten: Why are you here?
  • Wynne: I beg your pardon?
  • Sten: Women are artisans, or merchants. Or farmers, though you don't seem particularly... earthy. They have no place in war.
  • Wynne: I can't even begin to tell you what's wrong with that idea.
  • Sten: It is not done. There is no more to it.
  • Wynne: I do not understand. Do the Qunari have no female mages? No female warriors?
  • Sten: Of course not. Why would our women wish to be men?
  • Wynne: Do you believe I wish to be a man?
  • Sten: You cannot wish to be a man. It will lead you only to frustration.
  • Wynne: Hmm. I believe this discussion does the same. Let us speak no more of it, Sten.
  • Sten: As you wish.
  • Wynne: You can stop flinching, Sten. I'm not going to harm you.
  • Sten: I do not fear harm to myself.
  • Wynne: What is that supposed to mean?
  • Sten: An unbound mage is like a wildfire. As prone to consume itself as it is to devour all that surrounds it.
  • Wynne: I do wish you wouldn't refer to mages as, "it".
  • Wynne: Are all Qunari as quiet as you are?
  • Sten: Are all mages as chatty as you?
  • Wynne: ... That's fair.

Wynne and Zevran[edit | edit source]

  • Wynne: You must know that murder is wrong, I assume.
  • Zevran: I'm sorry... are you speaking to me?
  • Wynne: That is why you wish to leave your Crows. A crisis of conscience.
  • Zevran: Yes, that is exactly it.
  • Wynne: Joke if you wish, but I have the feeling that deep down you regret the life you have lived.
  • Zevran: It's true. I regret it all.
  • Wynne: Must you be such a child? Are you incapable of a single, serious conversation?
  • Zevran: I know. I am terrible and it makes me sad. May I rest my head in your bosom? I wish to cry.
  • Wynne: You can cry well away from my bosom, I'm certain
  • Zevran: Did I tell you I was an orphan? I never knew my mother.
  • Wynne: Egad. I give up.
  • Wynne: Have you changed your mind yet? Are you willing to speak seriously?
  • Zevran: Of your bosom? As you wish.
  • Wynne: (exasperated) No, I do not wish to speak of my bosom.
  • Zevran: But it is a marvelous bosom. I have seen women half your age who have not held up half so well. Perhaps it is a magical bosom?
  • Wynne: Stop... talking about my bosom.
  • Zevran: But I thought you wished to speak seriously?
  • Wynne: I do. I thought, however foolishly, that you might be willing to speak of your past.
  • Zevran: We could do that. There have been many bosoms in my past, though only few as fine as yours.
  • Wynne: Enough. I am ending this conversation.
  • Zevran: You have not asked me about my conscience for some time, my darling Wynne.
  • Wynne: That is correct. And I am not your "darling."
  • Zevran: (sigh) So once again I am rejected, just as I am by the cruel, cruel fates. They are harsh mistresses to the elves.
  • Wynne: Zevran, I am old enough to be your grandmother.
  • Zevran: You say that like it's a bad thing.
  • Wynne: And what would you do with me if you had me, hmm? This is a game you play, nothing more.
  • Zevran: Ha, you are a cynical woman, Wynne.
  • Zevran: Cynical and powerful. It drives me mad with desire.
  • Wynne: ...
  • Wynne: I am going to walk away now.
  • Zevran: So let us pretend that I do, indeed, believe that murder is wrong.
  • Wynne: (coldly) We are not having this conversation.
  • Zevran: Were I to believe such a thing, what would I do with it? Feeling guilt about things one can no longer change seems to very time-consuming, with little hope for actual gain.
  • Wynne: But you could change what you do in the future.
  • Zevran: (sigh) What would that require, exactly? It seems to me that feeling guilty would take up a great deal of my time as it is.
  • Wynne: Perhaps you could save a life, instead? One for every life you have taken.
  • Zevran: That is a great many lives to save and feel guilty as well. Perhaps I could do one or the other?
  • Wynne: It is not a game, Zevran. You either know right from wrong or you do not.
  • Zevran: I... I am so confused. I think I may cry. May I lay my head in your bosom?
  • Wynne: (cry of frustration) No! No! You may not!
  • Zevran: You are so very cruel. How is it that you do not feel guilty?
  • Wynne: I feel guilty for having ever spoken to you.
  • Zevran: You know, Wynne... I have a friend back in Antiva who would be very excited to meet you.
  • Wynne: I'm sorry?
  • Zevran: Salvail prefers women with experience and maturity. He says they have more substance, are more robust and flavorful.
  • Wynne: Does he now?
  • Zevran: Indeed. No need to deny it, Zevran knows a fine bird when he sees one.
  • Wynne: I am not a bird!
  • Zevran: There is no reason to deny yourself the pleasure of male companionship, after all, yes?
  • Zevran: You might talk now, but I assure you, Salvail is a gentleman of means, and quite handsome...
  • Wynne: I am going to walk away now. Calmly. Coolly. This is to save you the pain of having your brain forcibly removed through your ears.
  • Zevran: Tsk. This must be a Ferelden thing, I swear.
  • Zevran: You know, I have heard stories about your Circle of the Magi, my dear Wynne.
  • Wynne: Is that so.
  • Zevran: There is a Circle in my country, of course, but perhaps things are different here.
  • Zevran: I visited the Antivan Circle on official Crow business, once. Met a beautiful young apprentice who was very eager for a taste of the outside world...
  • Wynne: Please! Please, get to the point.
  • Zevran: All I wonder is whether the templars guard the mages here as closely as they do in Antiva.
  • Zevran: In Antiva, the templars watch the Circle like a jealous husband guarding the chastity of a wanton bride.
  • Wynne: Interesting metaphor, but yes, it is not too different in Ferelden.
  • Zevran: And is it also true that when the moon swells to fullness, the mages of the Circle gather at the top floor of their tower and, naked under the stars, make love to each other?
  • Wynne: What? No! Maker's breath...
  • Zevran: Oh. I found out recently that it was not true in Antiva and hoped that it would be in Ferelden. Alas.

(after Wynne's condition is revealed)

  • Zevran: I couldn't help hearing about your... predicament. Forgive me if I am prying...
  • Wynne: Yes, you are.
  • Zevran: ... but what does it feel like being possessed by a spirit?
  • Wynne: Why does this interest you so?
  • Zevran: I simply wish to get to know those that I travel with. Is that wrong of me?
  • Wynne: No, of course it isn't. Well... let me see. It is hard to describe. It is comforting... I... I feel safe, loved.
  • Zevran: Comforted, loved, yes...
  • Wynne: It is like being held close, cradled... the bond is so complete that I am unable to extricate myself, nor do I wish to. Wait... why do you have that look on your face?
  • Zevran: Mmm, I... I am simply imagining it. Continue, please.
  • Wynne: And there is a constant warmth, that spreads outwards from the very center of my being, infusing my body with--
  • Zevran: Ooh...
  • Wynne: Andraste's grace, what are you thinking about now? No, I don't want to know. I feel dirty. Do not speak to me.

Wynne and Shale[edit | edit source]

  • Wynne: Shale, why do you refer to me as the “elder mage?”
  • Shale: Clearly because it is old. And a mage. (Sarcastic alternative: "Clearly because it is purple. And a hyena." (Alternative presumably only occurs when Warden is a mage. The rest of the dialogue is unchanged.)
  • Wynne: I have a name. We all do. Even though Morrigan is a "swamp witch", as you call her, maybe she'd prefer being referred to by her name.
  • Shale: I have no doubt that is so.
  • Wynne: Then you simply wish to be perverse? Surely you are better than that.
  • Shale: I have found that I am allowed precious few amusements. Since so many prefer to call me “golem,” I enjoy referring to them in a similar fashion.
  • Wynne: Oh, very well. But could you at least use a different adjective? I do not wish my age to be my defining characteristic.
  • Shale: As the fussy mage desires.
  • Wynne: Oh, I give up.
  • Wynne: Have you given any thought to your future, Shale?
  • Shale: I was thinking I might, oh, join the Chantry. Become Divine. And have giant Andraste golems fashioned to conquer the lands!
  • Wynne: Truly?
  • Shale: No...
  • Wynne: It was a serious question. One day the quest of these Grey Wardens will be finished, one way or another. What will you do then?
  • Shale: The quest of the Grey Wardens is to destroy the darkspawn, I thought.
  • Wynne: Oh? So you share a larger purpose with them? Is that your ultimate goal?
  • Shale: I had not given it much thought. It might be better than slaughtering every bird in existence.
  • Wynne: Well, yes. At the very least. It's worth thinking about.
  • Shale: Has the elder mage ever encountered another golem?
  • Wynne: I suppose there used to be one deactivated one stored in the tower's vault. I wonder what became of it.
  • Shale: Why was it deactivated? Did it crush some arrogant mage's head after one too many commands?
  • Wynne: I do not know, Shale. Perhaps it is just irreparably broken. I think it stayed in the tower because no one could move it. It is very, very old. I believe it came from Tevinter, a long time ago. Perhaps someone bought it so it would guard the tower.
  • Shale: Its people do enjoy their slaves, don't they?
  • Wynne: It... it was not a slave! It was... it is a...
  • Shale: A tool? As I thought. No, don't deny it. No.
  • Shale: The elder mage watches me. I am reminded of a certain former master whose head I crushed... or so I'm told.
  • Wynne: Oh, I'm sorry, Shale. I am simply curious about you, that's all.
  • Shale: As my former master would say during his experiments.
  • Wynne: Oh, I would do no such thing. I just find the idea of you so fascinating. On the one hand it seems it would be so sad, and so lonely an existence. And on the other you are so very powerful. No golem I know of has ever had free will as you do. May I ask what you intend to do with it?
  • Shale: Other than exterminating the vermin of the sky?
  • Wynne: Er... yes, other than that.
  • Shale: I do not know. Crushing heads is fun, for now.
  • Wynne: Well, that's... something.
  • Shale: It seems I must retract a statement I made earlier. The elder mage is not at all like my former master.
  • Wynne: Oh? That's a good thing, is it?
  • Shale: It is, unless you happen to like having your head crushed. Not that I remember doing that.
  • Wynne: You know, I think I even remember who you speak of. His name was Wilhelm, yes? From the Free Marches?
  • Shale: It was Wilhelm of shrill voice and the control rod that he enjoyed wielding very much. Any more than that he did not divulge.
  • Wynne: Well, if it was the same man, he had quite the reputation. A scholar of some means who disappeared mysteriously.
  • Shale: Mystery solved. I killed him. I expect I smiled, much as I'm able to.
  • Wynne: (chuckles) You do speak your mind, don't you?
  • Shale: Fortunately, no other part of me has anything to say.

{after completing Broken Circle)

  • Shale: I have a question it may be able to answer, elder mage.
  • Wynne: Must it always be "elder mage?" I am not a wizened old crone just yet.
  • Shale: Would it prefer "mage well past her prime, don't mind the sagging bits?"
  • Wynne: You have an odd way of requesting answers to your questions.
  • Shale: I am curious about the abominations of the tower. Is it possible for such a creature to become human again?
  • Wynne: Yes, it is simply... very difficult. It requires travel into the Fade.
  • Shale: And? Is the mage the same afterwards as the mage was before?
  • Wynne: No, I... have never met such a person, but no. They are changed. Forever.
  • Shale: I understand. Thank you for the answer... wise one.

{after completing A Paragon of Her Kind)

  • Wynne: I have thought about what you said before, Shale. About slavery.
  • Shale: It is profitable, so I am led to believe.
  • Wynne: It is wrong. And it is no more right to make a slave out of a golem. I think... no one understood how golems were made, Shale. Perhaps we should have suspected, but no one knew. Golems were like spells. Useful.
  • Shale: I am useful. I'm better than any fireball, that I'm sure of.
  • Wynne: It's not the same thing. When this is over, I will make certain that the Circle of Magi knows the truth. Your people should not be treated as objects.
  • Shale: (laughs) I have no people. I mentioned the slavery because I knew it would be bothered, no other reason.
  • Wynne: But I... it still deserves to... you are a very perverse creature, you know this?
  • Shale: It almost wishes it had a control rod, no? (laughs)

Wynne and Dog[edit | edit source]

  • Wynne: You are a handsome canine specimen, aren`t you? Yes, you are.
  • Wynne: Oh, but look at that tiny stubby tail. Would you like a nicer tail? I could give you a long, swishy tail, if you liked.
  • Wynne: Just a wave of wand and poof! Tail. You`ll adore it, I promise.
  • Wynne: Or maybe you would like to be a different color? We could spice up that drab brown with some red, or blue. Perhaps even violet.
  • Wynne: Wardogs need to be pretty too, don`t they? Yes, you want to be pretty, pretty dog.
  • Wynne: That`s right, you just love attention, don`t you? And you want antlers. A big swishy tail and ant—hey! He... he made off with my staff!
  • Wynne: Perhaps I underestimated his intelligence.
  • Wynne: They say the mabari is clever enough to speak, and wise enough to know not to. Tell me, my friend, does this saying apply to you? Are you capable of speech, and simply choose not to speak?
  • Dog: (He wags his tail.)
  • Wynne: Hmm... sometimes I think the world would be a much friendlier place if we could learn some things from animals. Nothing in the animal kingdom can match the worst qualities of humanity.
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