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

Zevran's remarks

  • (added to the party) "Yes."
  • (taken out of the party) "Braska."
  • (entering the main market) "Ah, the bustle of a market district! The pickpocket's home away from home!"
  • (entering Gnawed Noble Tavern) "A place for the wealthy noblemen to drunkenly lounge about and wait their turn to be pickpocketed? Marvelous!"
  • (outside the Wonders of Thedas) "Ah, I have heard this Wonders of Thedas even in Antiva."
  • (inside the Wonders of Thedas) "And here I thought the Wonders of Thedas was a whorehouse. Pity."
  • (entering The Pearl) "Ahhh, I grew up in a place such as this. They say you can never go home again, but for ten silvers an hour you can get pretty close."
  • (outside Eamon's estate) "It's Antivan tradition to throw coins in such a well as this. Supposedly it brings one luck."
  • (Alienage gates) "Ahhh, an alienage. They're the same everywhere, aren't they?"
  • (at the vhenadahl tree) "Elves plant these trees to remind themselves of who they once were. And then they pee on it. Charming symbolism, really."
  • (entering Lake Calenhad Docks) "The good thing about mages, I find, is that they die much like any other. You need to worry about what happens before that."
  • (at Lake Calenhad shoreline) "Uh, do you think that perhaps there are magical beasts swimming in the lake, guarding their magic tower?"
  • (entering the Apprentice Quarters) "Have you ever heard the saying 'let sleeping abominations lie'? Now would be the time to consider it."
  • (entering the Senior Mage Quarters) "Be wary. I do not think we are alone here."
  • (in Irving's study) "You know, I'd be willing to bet there's a tome or two in here that would fetch a lovely price on the market."
  • (entering the Great Hall) "It's not true that mages can turn someone into a toad, is it? That's just a myth, yes?"
  • (seeing the corruption in the Templar Quarters) "Ahh... now I regret that extra pie at lunch. Oh well."
  • (being sedated by the Sloth Demon) "What is this? Some ridiculous ploy to get me to lay down my guard?"
  • (Confronting the Sloth Demon) "How did I get here? What happened to all those luscious wood nymphs?"
  • (approaching Cullen) "It seems they left us one alive. A trap perhaps?"
  • (collecting the fourth Apprentice Note)
  • (collecting the final Apprentice Note) "Reads like the lad got in over his head. You sure that's a road to follow?"
  • (defeating Shah Wyrd) "Yes, I've been close enough to death from real monsters, now we've got to worry about imaginary ones?"
  • (Tomas tells the party about the attacks) "Well that's just typical, isn't it?"
  • (outside Redcliffe chantry) "Ah! What a lovely little fishing town! You can almost smell the desperation of the local gentry, no?"
  • (After talking to Murdock in Redcliffe) "That's good. The survival rate of ingrates is remarkably low, so I hear..."
  • (Upon urging Ser Perth to use the oil in the siege of undead on Redcliffe) "A fine tactic. Provided it actually kills them and you don't end up having to deal with flaming undead."
  • (approaching the windmill in Redcliffe) "Hmm... Anyone up for a little bit of naked cliffdiving? No?"
  • (secret tunnel into Redcliffe dungeon) "Escape tunnels make such very handy entrance tunnels, don't you think?"
  • (going up the first slope in Haven) "Strange. A perfect little village, no? Almost too perfect."
  • (up the slope leading to the chantry) "Do you hear it? Singing from the chantry. The entire town, from the sounds of it."
  • (entering the Ruined Temple) "Ahhhh, an untouched treasure! What wonders await us here?"
  • (entering the Ruined Temple library) "Hmm. You think any valuable tome might still be in a decent condition?"
  • (statue of Maferath) "This is Maferath, husband of Andraste and her betrayer. What? I went to the chantry as a child."
  • (statue of Hessarian) "Ah! Hessarian, magister and Archon of the Tevinter Imperium. It was he who ordered Andraste burned, if I remember."
  • (mountain caverns) "If there is anyone in charge of these cultists, we have not met them yet."
  • (on the Mountain Top after seeing the high dragon) "A High Dragon? We're not planning on... actually fighting it are we? Couldn't we just... sneak around it?"
  • (entering the Gauntlet) "I feel like we've just entered a Grand Cleric's bedchambers, where no one has gone before."
  • (entering the bridge puzzle room) "I have faith in my friends well enough. Faith that they will one day stab me in my back."
  • (suggesting puzzle's solution)"Ah! This looks like a simple enough puzzle. Let us put our heads together."
  • (a plate is triggered) "Ooh! A path that looks like it's there, but is really a trap! I want one!"
  • (solving the bridge puzzle in the Gauntlet) "I'm sure there's a moral in here...something about building bridges with friends, and such. Something poetic...oh, well."
  • (entering the urn room) "Mother of Mercy! It... it is real!"
  • (approaching the urn) "Nice vase, I should get one for my house."
  • (greeting Harhen Sarel) (Dalish Origin required) "Zevran, here. We have Dalish up in Antiva City, though they're much more violent I hear."
  • (in the Dalish Camp) "My mother was Dalish. They are a proud people, those who refuse to bow to defeat."
  • (near the halla pen of the Dalish Camp) "The halla. The Dalish call them their guides. They even lead an elf to oblivion when he dies... or so they claim."
  • (entering the Brecilian Forest) "I am more of a city elf, myself. A forest like this just seems so very... filthy."
  • (near the Tevinter ruins) "Hmm. What came first, I wonder. The forest or the ruins."
  • (after the werewolves retreat into the ruins) "The werewolves live in an old ruin? Hmmm... I wonder if there are other treasures to be found here besides wolf droppings?"
  • (descending down the first stairs in the Ruins Upper Level) "It seems that elves once lived with the Tevinter humans? Or the Tevinters built this place for them? I never heard of such a thing."
  • (hearing the dragon in the ruins) "That smell... we're definitely approaching some kind of lair."
  • (After incurring the wrath of the werewolves) "I see where this is going. Downhill. And quickly, too"
  • (entering Frostback Mountain surface camp) "Are we going to enter Orzammar? I don't believe they allow non-dwarves within."
  • (observing the Paragon statues) "Ah, the Paragons I believe. The dwarves worship their own ancestors, if you can believe it."
  • (entering Orzammar Commons) "What a remarkable amount of lava. Do you think anyone ever falls in?"
  • (exit to the Deep Roads) "It seems darker this way. Perhaps this is how one leaves the dwarven city?"
  • (outside Tapster's Tavern) "Ha, drunken dwarves! What could be the harm in a few of those?"
  • (entering Tapster’s Tavern) "Do you know that dwarven ale isn't truly ale at all? And it's black. Marvelous!"
  • (entering Dust Town) "A-ha! I smell a seedy underbelly, warts and all!"
  • (at the Proving) "Hmm. I hear that if the spectators don't approve of a match's outcome, they rush the field and kill the fighters."
  • (entering the Diamond Quarter) "Let me guess. This is where the rich dwarves live, yes?"
  • (outside the palace) "This is the royal palace, then? Hmm. What treasures could lie within?"
  • (scenic vista) "Ah, the last city of the dwarves. Just think: In another century or so, the only dwarves might be those on the surface."
  • (entering Bownammar) "How many such places have been lost to the darkspawn, I wonder? Dwarven marvels throughout Thedas, all lost to the shadow."
  • (entering Anvil of the Void) "We have to be getting close. I wonder what state this Branka is in after living here so long?"
  • (passing the second checkpoint in Fort Drakon) "You know, you never feel so alive as when you're breaking and entering."
  • (passing the third checkpoint in Fort Drakon) "And this is where we dispense with charm and subterfuge. These guards will know we have no business here."
  • (Delivering Notice of Death) "Your husband? Dead. It was horrible, and so forth." or "I'm sorry to say that your beloved husband is dead."
  • (Considering a deal with Sophia) "Making deals with demons now, are we? I must say the Crows have misjudged Wardens. You are more cunning and ruthless than we suspected. Carry on. Do not let me get in the way."

Zevran and Alistair

  • Zevran: So are you a very religious man, Alistair? I am curious. I believe I heard you say you were raised in an abbey?
  • Alistair: I was raised in a castle. I was schooled in the abbey. As far as being religious... I don't know. Not especially. What about you? Not in your line of work, I expect.
  • Zevran: Why do you say that? I happen to be quite devoted, in my way, as most Antivans are.
  • Alistair: Truly? But you kill people. For money.
  • Zevran: And I ask forgiveness for my sins from the Maker every chance I get. What manner of monster do you think I am?
  • Alistair: But... you ask forgiveness and then you go right on with your sinning!
  • Zevran: The Maker has never objected. Why should you?
  • Alistair: I... have no idea.
  • Zevran: Well there you go. Perhaps you ought to think about asking for a little forgiveness yourself, hm?
  • Alistair: So why would the Crows send you, Zevran?
  • Zevran: Is there some reason why they should not?
  • Alistair: Plenty of reasons. Starting with the fact that you weren't exactly the best they had, were you?
  • Zevran: Slander and lies. For shame, Alistair.
  • Alistair: I'm not an idiot. Well, not most of the time. You're no raw recruit, but I've seen you fight. You're no master of combat, by any means.
  • Zevran: Assuming that I intended a fair fight, that would indeed be a problem.
  • Alistair: But the Crows must have master assassins, the way you describe them. Men with years and years of experience. Why not send them?
  • Zevran: Why not, indeed? It is a mystery for the ages.
  • Alistair: Oh, I get it. You're not going to tell me.
  • Zevran: Morrigan said you were sharp. No liar, she.
  • Zevran: Still with the stern glances, Alistair?
  • Alistair: You didn't answer my question. About why the Crows wouldn't send their best man.
  • Zevran: So for that I must suffer all these fearsome glares? You are cruel to subject me to such torture.
  • Alistair: If you aren't telling me, there must be a reason.
  • Zevran: If you must know, the masters do not often take contracts outside Antiva. And I made the best bid.
  • Alistair: Best bid?
  • Zevran: We agree to pay the guild a portion of whatever the contract offers. The one who agrees to pay the most gets the contract, so long as the guild deems them worthy.
  • Alistair: And they thought you were worthy?
  • Zevran: Against a pair of Grey Warden recruits? Apparently so.
  • Alistair: Were there many who wanted the contract?
  • Zevran: None. You are still Grey Wardens, after all, and even in Antiva, killing members of your order is considered... impolitic. It made the guild's decision considerably easier, I imagine.
  • Alistair: Well that's comforting, somehow.
  • Alistair: So those... designs you have all over your back...
  • Zevran: They're called tattoos. And I have them in many more places than just on my back, my friend.
  • Alistair: Err... right. I hear that someone gets those by having needles put the ink under your skin?
  • Zevran: A great many needles, amongst other things. Yes, that would be true.
  • Alistair: Didn't that hurt?
  • Zevran: Ohhh, yes, yes. But it is not so bad, in truth. If you like, I could give you one. I learned a bit of the art myself in Antiva.
  • Alistair: Oh, no. No, I don't think so.
  • Zevran: Come, it will just be a small one. Perhaps the symbol of the Grey Wardens? Something manly! Where are my needles?
  • Alistair: Um... maybe some other time. I'm... I'm going to go stand over here, now.
  • Alistair: The stories we hear down here about the Crows... they're not true, are they? They all sound a little far-fetched.
  • Zevran: I cannot say. What have you heard? In Antiva, we hear that Ferelden men cannot sleep without a dog in their bed. Is that true?
  • Alistair: A dog? No, of course not. We value our dogs, it's part of our history.
  • Zevran: Oh. Perhaps it was simply a reference to your Ferelden women, then?
  • Alistair: *Laughs* Well, now that you mention it...
  • Zevran: But those stories you heard? All true.
  • Alistair: Really. Even the ones that talk about how you all... you know... get paid to...
  • Zevran: Especially those ones.
  • Alistair: Wow. I am totally in the wrong order.
  • Alistair: I've been thinking about those ink drawings, what did you call them? Tattoos? Are you... still willing to do one?
  • Zevran: Oh-ho! You've decided to take the plunge, have you? What is a little pain, am I right?
  • Alistair: I'm not worried about that. I think they look interesting, though I'd want mine... smaller. When can you do it?
  • Zevran: Not so fast, my friend. There is an entire ritual to how this is done, do you not know? First I need to bathe you in a mixture of olives and rosewater.
  • Alistair: You need to... bathe me? That seems... odd.
  • Zevran: No, no, no, not at all. It needs to be worked into your skin, preparing it to receive the ink. The massage is quite pleasurable, do not worry. You are in good hands.
  • Alistair: The... massage? You're... having me on, aren't you?
  • Zevran: I might be. I might not be. Shall I describe the rest of the ritual to you?
  • Alistair: Hmm. No. No, on second thought I'll just pass.
  • Zevran: *Laughs* Excellent choice!
  • Alistair: As a Crow, you were an assassin in Antiva, right? Professionally?
  • Zevran: Technically speaking, I still am. Somewhat between jobs, as it turns out.
  • Alistair: So how much did you charge to... you know... kill someone? Was it very expensive? Did it depend on who they were?
  • Zevran: Such curiosity. Are you thinking of having someone murdered, my friend Alistair? Or are you considering a career change?
  • Alistair: No, neither. It just seems odd to me that you could make a living doing that. Or that you would need an entire guild just to handle so many... jobs.
  • Zevran: Ahhh. Assassination in Antiva is a tradition. It is more efficient than an election, as we say. "Politics and death go together like kisses and love-making." It costs a great deal depending on how experienced the Crow is... and how difficult the target is to kill. You? I would charge perhaps five thousand andris for you.
  • Alistair: Five thousand andris? Is that a lot?
  • Zevran: Mmm, not really, no.
  • Alistair: So I have a question for you, Zevran. You're here, at least in part, to get away from the Crows, right?
  • Zevran: That is indeed true.
  • Alistair: So when this is over, what do you intend to do with yourself? You can't go back to Antiva, I assume.
  • Zevran: What I do depends in large part upon your fellow Grey Warden. I am not a free man, as it were.
  • Alistair: Yes, yes, but what if you could do whatever you wanted?
  • Zevran: What makes you think I intend to go anywhere? / (If the Warden is in a romance with Zevran) Why should I go anywhere? You Grey Wardens are the epitome of charm and hospitality.
  • Alistair: So you do intend to go back to the Crows?
  • Zevran: I said no such thing. I think I should stay where I am. Ferelden is a marvelous country.
  • Alistair: Why don't I believe you?
  • Zevran: You're not much of a patriot, are you? Well I'm not going to listen to such slander of my new home. Off with you, then.

(Alternate version if Alistair's parentage has been revealed and the Warden is not in a romance with Zevran.)

  • Zevran: Oh, I don't know. Aren't you going to be king? Perhaps you have people you need killed?
  • Alistair: I probably do, yes. / (If Alistair is unhardened) Is there some reason I shouldn't just kill them, myself?
  • Zevran: See? It's that sort of thinking that makes me think I have a future in this fine country of yours. / (If Alistair is unhardened) See? It's that sort of talk that is bad for business. Have you no thought to supporting the employment of your subjects?
  • Alistair: That's assuming I would hire you. / (If Alistair is unhardened) Ha! Not for assassins I don't.
  • Zevran: That's the lovely thing about kings. They make for good business, as the client or the target.
  • Alistair: And people wonder why someone might not want to be king.

(If the Warden is in a romance with Alistair)

  • Alistair: Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?
  • Zevran: You may ask, but I may choose not to answer.
  • Alistair: Fair enough. Have you... had very many women in your time? I mean... you seem like the sort of man who would...
  • Zevran: I have indulged from time to time, perhaps, when my interest is not elsewhere.
  • Alistair: Right. Well, how do you... woo them? Is there a... technique? Or...
  • Zevran: "Woo them?" Are you quite serious?
  • Alistair: Er... yes? I don't know what else to call it.
  • Zevran: So let me get this straight. You have... never wooed? Not once? You are woo-less, as it were?
  • Alistair: All right. Bad idea. Never mind.

(If the Warden slept with Alistair)

  • Zevran: Might I offer you a bit of advice, my good friend Alistair?
  • Alistair: I like my hair the way it is, thank you.
  • Zevran: Truly? As you wish... though my advice is regarding something else completely. It has to do with your recent... exertions with your fellow Grey Warden that I overheard.
  • Alistair: My...? Oh.
  • Zevran: It did seem as if you just got going when all grew quiet. You are... feeling all right, yes? Perhaps you are tired?
  • Alistair: We aren't talking about this, are we? Did I hit my head?
  • Zevran: I have some roots from home that you may chew if you need energy. As for volume, perhaps you ought to try arching your--
  • Alistair: Whoa! Whoa! Awkward!
  • Zevran: You Fereldens are so finicky. How will you ever learn how to pleasure each other unless you talk about it?
  • Alistair: Not listening! La la la la la!

(If a female Warden is in a romance with Zevran)

  • Alistair: So let me ask you something. What are your intentions with her?
  • Zevran: You speak of her as if she is not present. She is just right over there, you know...
  • Alistair: Don't dodge the question. I'm serious.
  • Zevran: Is this brotherly concern I detect? Or something else? Perhaps you are concerned for me, yes?
  • Alistair: I am just asking what your intentions are. You did try to kill us all, remember?
  • Zevran: And now I owe her a blood debt, as she has spared my life. It has brought us... closer together.
  • Alistair: Is that a smirk? Are you smirking at me?
  • Zevran: I assure you, ser, that I am not smirking. No smirking here, no.
  • Alistair: Well, just... watch yourself, then. I'll be keeping an eye on you.

(Alternate version if the Warden is also in a romance with Alistair)

  • Alistair: So let me ask you something. What are your intentions with her?
  • Zevran: You speak of her as if she is not present. She is just right over there, you know...
  • Alistair: Don't dodge the question. I'm serious.
  • Zevran: Mmm. Do I detect a bit of jealousy there? Feeling territorial, are we?
  • Alistair: I am just asking what your intentions are. You did try to kill us all, remember?
  • Zevran: And now I owe her a blood debt, as she has spared my life. It has brought us... closer together.
  • Alistair: Is that a smirk? Are you smirking at me?
  • Zevran: I assure you, ser, that I am not smirking. No smirking here, no.
  • Alistair: Well, just... watch yourself, then. I'll be keeping an eye on you.

(If Alistair's heritage is revealed)

  • Zevran: You know, Alistair, Antiva has a long tradition of royal bastards.
  • Alistair: You don't say?
  • Zevran: Oh, yes. They've led wars to claim the throne. Some of them have become kings. In fact, I'd say the current royal line in Antiva stems from bastard blood several times over.
  • Alistair: Well aren't you just chock full of useless trivia today.
  • Zevran: Sadly, whenever a royal bastard rears their head in public and declares themselves, it often goes poorly for them.
  • Alistair: Let me guess: they get assassinated?
  • Zevran: Only the very popular ones.
  • Alistair: And the unpopular ones?
  • Zevran: Well, they get by somehow, I'm sure. There was one fellow who did quite well working as a prostitute based on his uncanny resemblance to the king. Charged a fortune.
  • Alistair: Couldn't afford him, I take it?
  • Zevran: That cynicism will serve you well, my friend. Hold onto it.

(If Alistair will become king)

  • Alistair: So what do you have to say about me becoming king? I suppose you don't care?
  • Zevran: No, no, I think it is quite marvelous. A most unusual way to pick a king, however.
  • Alistair: Unusual? I guess it was a bit... unorthodox, even by our standards. Why? How does a king get picked in Antiva?
  • Zevran: Oh, he or she is elected, of course. Provided they make it to the election without being first assassinated.
  • Alistair: Yes, from what you said that seems to happen a lot there. Makes me wonder why anyone would even want to be king.
  • Zevran: It is considered a very brave and impressive thing to attempt to become king of Antiva. Sometimes nobody steps forward at all, sadly.
  • Alistair: And what happens then?
  • Zevran: Why, we start assassinating those who we think should run until someone does. Never let it be said that the Crows are not patriots.

Zevran and Morrigan

  • Morrigan: So what is going to keep you from poisoning your target now that you have been allowed to accompany us, I wonder?
  • Zevran: You are. You will be watching me ever so closely to make sure I attempt no such thing.
  • Morrigan: And why would I do such a thing? Sneaking into our good graces in order to make another attempt is what I would do, were I you.
  • Zevran: And here I was becoming rather fond of the idea of you watching me closely.
  • Morrigan: It would be a simple enough matter to poison the food in camp. Or cut our throats while we sleep.
  • Zevran: You seem rather charmed by the idea.
  • Morrigan: It would seem an appropriate result of sparing your life.
  • Zevran: Ah. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you then. The next time I am spared I will be sure to immediately turn upon my benefactors. Will that do?
  • Morrigan: You do still intend to kill your target, do you not? Is your reputation not on the line?
  • Zevran: Are you still on about this, woman?
  • Morrigan: I am led to believe that the Crows would never permit such a transgression. They will come after you, and in force.
  • Zevran: It has come to my attention that the Crows are not always successful when pit against Grey Wardens and their companions.
  • Morrigan: Perhaps they will send someone competent next time.
  • Zevran: You wound me.
  • Morrigan: I have considered doing far more than that, trust me.
  • Morrigan: So you do not fear the Crows at all?
  • Zevran: I think of it more as my desire to leave them far exceeds the fear I possess of them.
  • Morrigan: You think the Grey Wardens will give you safe harbor once all this is done? Surely you are not so naive.
  • Zevran: I am willing to take my chances.
  • Morrigan: And if you are wrong?
  • Zevran: Then I will be dead. One does not do what I do and fear death so very greatly.
  • Morrigan: There are fates worse than death.
  • Zevran: And one of them is being unable to choose which master you serve. Trust me, my dear, I am well pleased with my current direction.
  • Morrigan: These Crows of yours, Zevran. Are they as extraordinary as you claim?
  • Zevran: They all but rule over my homeland. Do you find that extraordinary?
  • Morrigan: If true. Are they so powerful simply because they are very good at what they do? Or is there some secret to their power?
  • Zevran: If there were a secret, it would only remain so if it were not told, my dear.
  • Morrigan: You are not longer bound to such a code. or do you believe their wrath will be greater than it already is, should you speak out of turn?
  • Zevran: It may be that I simply do not wish to tell you. You get the most delightful wrinkle in your brow when you are curious.
  • Morrigan: I see. You are impossibly frustrating, you know this.
  • Zevran: I do. It is part of my charm, or so I'm told.
  • Zevran: Your mother is supposedly the one called Flemeth, the very witch from legend, is that not true?
  • Morrigan: There is nothing "supposed" about it. Flemeth is my mother.
  • Zevran: Hmm. I was more doubtful of the legend rather than your relationship to this woman. Anyone can claim a name, after all.
  • Morrigan: You're welcome to ask her, if you ever meet her. You're just her type.
  • Zevran: Oh? Elven and handsome?
  • Morrigan: The sort that will never be missed.
  • Zevran: Sounds intriguing, if you ask me.
  • Morrigan: You assassin types have a death wish, I see.
  • Zevran: (Laughs) Only the really good ones.
  • Zevran: So if the legend of your mother is true, Morrigan, does that mean that the legends of her many daughters are as well?
  • Morrigan: To be honest, I have no idea. I've never met any sister of mine, nor has my mother spoken of any.
  • Zevran: But it could be true, yes? If you exist, there could have been others like you.
  • Morrigan: Long ago, perhaps. Why?
  • Zevran: We have legends of witches in Antiva. one that tells of a Witch of the Wild, traveled far from her home to settle in the Tellari Swamps.
  • Morrigan: And? You thought I might know this woman?
  • Zevran: If one legend can be true, why not another? Who knows how many Morrigans are scattered about Thedas, hmm?
  • Morrigan: It's not something I'd like to contemplate.
  • Zevran: Oh? You do not appreciate a little competition from a half-sister or two?
  • Morrigan: Silence, elf. It is none of your concern.
  • Zevran: Such sinister glares do you a disservice, dear Morrigan. Yours should be a face that smiles.
  • Morrigan: Do tell.
  • Zevran: Has no one told you? Perhaps that is not surprising, considering you have lived such a sheltered life. Were you a woman of the city, you would be accustomed to men showering you with praise and gifts.
  • Morrigan: I know as much of men as I need to. I know when one is indulging in pointless flattery, for instance.
  • Zevran: It is flattery only if I exaggerate the truth to please you. I am but stating a simple fact.
  • Morrigan: Tell me, does this work on other women?
  • Zevran: I think any woman would like to hear the truth of how her beauty affects a man. Do you not?
  • Morrigan: I think that sort of manure is best reserved for farming.
  • Zevran: Ah, one day you will realize that you have wasted your youth and beauty on bitterness and suspicion, mark my words.
  • Morrigan: Remind me to bring you along if we go sailing. The hot air will prove useful.

(With Leliana, Alistair, or Oghren in the party)

  • Zevran: Has anyone told you what marvellous eyes you possess, my dear?
  • Morrigan: Again with the flattery? Do you not tire from these pointless exercises?
  • Zevran: In Antiva, women are accustomed to being showered with the praise they deserve. Men should worship you at your feet as you pass.
  • Morrigan: They don't find that incredibly annoying?
  • Zevran: They are goddesses receiving their subjects, just as you should be. Whatever would be annoying about that?
  • Morrigan: I have no wish to be placed upon a pedestal.
  • Zevran: But you deserve no less. You should be admired by painters, copied by sculptors, exalted by poets! Surely you know that yours is a beauty so exotic it--it would turn the eye of the Maker Himself!
  • Morrigan: Well, I suppose I...

(With Alistair)

  • Alistair: By the Maker! You were right! You win, I guess. (Alistair is unhardened)
  • Alistair: By the Maker! You were right. You win. (Alistair is hardened)
  • Zevran: Thank you, ser. I expect payment forthwith. (Alistair is unhardened)
  • Zevran: I think you owe me five silvers, yes? (Alistair is hardened)
  • Morrigan: I hate you all.

(With Leliana)

  • Leliana: You are a master indeed, Zevran. You win the bet fair and square.
  • Zevran: Much obliged, madame.
  • Morrigan: I hate you all.

(With Oghren)

  • Oghren: Hmph. Fine. So I owe you a flagon. Bastard.
  • Zevran: Much obliged, ser.
  • Morrigan: I hate you all.

(If the Warden is in a romance with Zevran)

  • Morrigan: That is wily of you, Zevran.
  • Zevran: What is so wily of me, o magical temptress?
  • Morrigan: Getting in the good graces of the one who decides whether you live or die. Not to mention the one who can protect you against your former comrades.
  • Zevran: And I am supposed to believe you are here because of a... sense of patriotism, perhaps?
  • Morrigan: Ha! Hardly that.
  • Zevran: We all have our reasons for doing what we do. Mine happen to come with a set of strong hands. (Male Warden)
  • Zevran: We all have our reasons for doing what we do. Mine happen to come with a set of lovely eyes. (Female Warden)

(If the Warden is in a romance with Morrigan)

  • Zevran: I see your friendship with the Grey Warden is going very well.
  • Morrigan: Is there a reason you say that with a smirk, elf?
  • Zevran: I think you know. You and I are not so dissimilar after all. I know what you are doing, lovely woman.
  • Morrigan: And what is it that you think I am doing? Besides the Grey Warden that is.
  • Zevran: Biding your time, naturally. But for what, I wonder?
  • Morrigan: Why don't you ask him, if you're so curious.
  • Zevran: I doubt that he even knows. I am content to wait and see for myself, however.
  • Morrigan: Then don't bring it up again.

(Alternate version if the Warden is also in a romance with Zevran)

  • Zevran: I see your friendship with the Grey Warden is going very well.
  • Morrigan: As is yours.
  • Zevran: A-ha! Then you know?
  • Morrigan: I am not a fool, if you thought me one.
  • Zevran: I do not think you a fool, my lovely woman. We are not so dissimilar, after all. I know what you are doing.
  • Morrigan: And what is it that you think I am doing? Besides the Grey Warden that is.
  • Zevran: Biding your time, naturally. But for what, I wonder?
  • Morrigan: Why don't you ask him, if you're so curious.
  • Zevran: I doubt that he even knows. I am content to wait and see for myself, however.
  • Morrigan: Then don't bring it up again.

(After completing Flemeth's Real Grimoire)

  • Zevran: So I wonder, do you intend to take your mother's place, now?
  • Morrigan: Take her place? What do you mean?
  • Zevran: As the new Witch of the Wild. That was her title, no? When one slays the queen, it's assumed they'll take her throne.
  • Morrigan: Considering the throne is a small shack in the middle of a cold wilderness, I think I may just pass.
  • Zevran: And why would you lie to me, I wonder?
  • Morrigan: Ah. Is this the part where you hint at some subtle plot of mine? Because you are so very perceptive?
  • Zevran: So you didn't know what your mother planned until you read it in that book, that's what you said.
  • Morrigan: That is correct.
  • Zevran: I admire you. You are a wicked, wicked woman.
  • Morrigan: And you are a fool who spends far too much time on his hair.

(After Alistair's heritage is revealed)

  • Morrigan: Think of it, Zevran. you may have stumbled into a most delightful possibility for your future.
  • Zevran: Oh? Are you dispensing professional advice now?
  • Morrigan: It simply occurs to me that if, say, Alistair were to become king of Ferelden he may have need of someone of your... talents.
  • Zevran: From what I know of the fellow it seems there would be a fair difference between what he needed and what he cared to make use of.
  • Morrigan: If Alistair becomes king, it would certainly not be through any brilliance on his part. Whoever puts him there... now there's the one who will need you.
  • Zevran: Hmmm. Now that's an interesting thought. You've such a devious mind, my dear. Why have we not made love as of yet?
  • Morrigan: For what purpose? I would sooner stab you in the face than let you touch me, elf.
  • Zevran: And somehow that makes the idea even more intriguing...

Zevran and Oghren

  • Zevran: Hello my stocky little friend!
  • Oghren: Huh. You got small breasts for a gal.
  • Zevran: Ah. This is where we begin the typical dwarven/elven rivalry, is it?
  • Oghren: Nahhh.
  • Oghren: So... Antiva. Wonderful place. Full of... Antivans.
  • Zevran: Oghren. If you want to bed me, you have only to ask.
  • Oghren: What!? Draw your weapon and say that again!
  • Zevran: (Laughs) I jest, my foul-smelling friend. You are only slightly more attractive to me than a slime-filled pool of swamp water.
  • Oghren: (Grunts) Better be.
  • Zevran: You have my oath.
  • Oghren: Bloody Antivans.

(Entering the Brecilian Forestt)

  • Oghren: Well, here we are, elf. The homeland of your people.
  • Zevran: I am from Antiva, Oghren. I don't go into forests as a rule.
  • Oghren: Huh, I thought you elves were all from the woods. With the flowers and the wind and what-not.
  • Zevran: The Dalish perhaps. Most of us were born with a roof over our head.
  • Oghren: Then why the sod do we keep hearing about elves frolicking in the thicket and nug-spew like that?
  • Zevran: Could it be that Orzammar's archives aren't the most accurate authority on elves?
  • Oghren: Heh. Orzammar's archives are hardly an authority on Orzammar's archives.
  • Zevran: I'm just cheered by the thought that you might have picked up a book at some point.
  • Oghren: Heh. It had pictures. Dirty ones.
  • Zevran: (Sighs) Well, naturally.
  • Zevran: What exactly are you drinking my fine dwarven friend?
  • Oghren: You can't have any!
  • Zevran: Do not worry, I won't. The stench is worse than your feet.
  • Oghren: What're you doing smelling my feet, uh? Is that some kind of Antivan perversion?
  • Zevran: It is difficult not to smell your feet. Perhaps in Antiva.
  • Oghren: Now you're beginning to sound like Branka.
  • Zevran: Well, she must have been a dwarf with astoundingly clean feet.
  • Zevran: You never did answer my question about that filth you so enjoy.
  • Oghren: That's right, I didn't.
  • Zevran: How is it that you never seem to run out? Are you purchasing it somewhere?
  • Oghren: Bah. Nobody sells the good stuff.
  • Zevran: Then are you making it? I don't see a still at the camp...And you aren't walking around with a keg, so unless you're... oh no...
  • Oghren: What? Where has that perverted elven mind of yours gone?
  • Zevran: That... would explain the smell... Suddenly I'm not so interested in trying a sample...
  • Oghren: I would have thought saving the surface would have involved less walking.
  • Zevran: Little legs getting tired?
  • Oghren: I thought these people had animals. Horses and such.
  • Zevran: In Orlais, perhaps, but not here. If you like, I could hoist you up on my back.
  • Oghren: Hey now, don't start with the--
  • Zevran: Yes, climb up, and I'll cart you around like a child! Marvelous fun!
  • Oghren: You knife-eared pipe-cleaner, you couldn't carry me on your best day.
  • Zevran: Mmmm. Perhaps if you left behind the spirits, all the weapons, and lost about two feet of beard...
  • Oghren: Ach. I give up. Just keep walking.
  • Oghren: Hey, elf. You're all right.
  • Zevran: Am I?
  • Oghren: Aye. I was thinking, I was thinking that you're... you're just all right.
  • Zevran: Drunk again, Oghren?
  • Oghren: "Drunk again, Oghren?" You sound like my father. He was all, "You're drunk; stop wetting on the table."
  • Zevran: How dare he.
  • Oghren: Least my mom had the good sense to hide the booze from him. So, you know, she could drink where he couldn't see her. (Laughs)
  • Zevran: That's heartwarming.
  • Oghren: Hey buddy, let's not go crazy or anything. Keep your pants where I can see 'em.
  • Oghren: Elf!
  • Zevran: Oghren!
  • Oghren: I have something to say to you!
  • Zevran: I am all ears, as we elves like to say.
  • Oghren: I... Well, now I forgot.
  • Zevran: Alas.
  • Oghren: But just know I had something.
  • Zevran: You've had several somethings, I suspect. It's part of your charm.
  • Zevran: So is it very strange for you, my friend, living in the world of the tall?
  • Oghren: Here I thought I was living in the world of the nosy and the stupid.
  • Zevran: It just occurred to me. Chairs are too high. Tables are out of reach. Using the toilet facilities alone must be a lesson in humility.
  • Oghren: I'm not bloody two feet tall, you swishy nug-licker!
  • Zevran: And then the light! After all that gloom of Orzammar and the Deep Roads, it's a wonder you don't wander about squinting in pain.
  • Oghren: It is bright, I'll give you that.
  • Zevran: And... oh! Not to have a roof over your head! You must constantly fear that you'll fall up into that vast, endlessly open sky.
  • Oghren: Uh...
  • Zevran: One day you live within the surety of a mountain, and then gone! Nothing but vacuum, nothing to stop you from being sucked up into the void, nothing to--
  • Oghren: Stop! One more word and I chop you down where you stand!
  • Zevran: You are a brave, brave little soldier, my friend.
  • Oghren: I just don't understand you elves. Not one bit.
  • Zevran: Oh? Where is your comprehension lacking, my friend?
  • Oghren: These humans... they turn you all into slaves. They... what did they do? They destroy your homeland! Twice!
  • Zevran: What is your point, dwarf?
  • Oghren: Well, I just don't understand. Why don't you just... kill 'em all?
  • Zevran: There are a great many more humans than elves, if you haven't noticed.
  • Oghren: So? There's a hundred humans for every dwarf, too, but you don't see us bending over an' getting our pipes cleaned, do you?
  • Zevran: That's big talk for a man who lives in a tunnel.
  • Oghren: All I know is the dwarves would never stand for it. You'd think you elves would have learned to duck.
  • Zevran: That must be it, exactly.
  • Zevran: I think I have a joke for you, my fine dwarven friend.
  • Oghren: Just don't expect me to laugh.
  • Zevran: So a human, an elf, and a dwarf are walking down a trail beside a stream, and they stop to take a piss.
  • Oghren: All right. Things are lookin' up. Continue.
  • Zevran: After, the human takes out some soap and begins washing his hands. "We humans have learned how to be clean and hygienic," he says to the others. The elf begins picking some leaves off the trees and wipes his hands with them. "We elves do as tradition has taught us and use what nature has provided." The dwarf, meanwhile, has pulled up his trousers and is already on his way down the trail. "And our ancestors," he calls back, "taught us dwarves not to piss on our hands!" (Laughs)
  • Oghren: Heh. Shows you what you know about dwarves.
  • Oghren: All right. I guess you aren't all that bad.
  • Zevran: You just decided that, did you?
  • Oghren: Well, I've watch you fight. You could be worse, I guess.
  • Zevran: From you, that's practically a proposal of marriage.
  • Oghren: Don't get excited or nothin'. You're not what I'm looking for in a wife.
  • Zevran: Considering what happened to your last wife, I'll count myself as fortunate.

(Playing as a female character with an Adore rating with Zevran)

  • Oghren: I didn't think she'd go for an elf. / (If the Warden is an elf or a mage) Figures she'd go for an elf.
  • Zevran: She who?
  • Oghren: You and the Warden. We all know what's going on there.
  • Zevran: Oh? Does that make you jealous, my stout little friend?
  • Oghren: Me? Ha! Last thing I need is another woman in my life.
  • Zevran: One wife was enough for you, was she?
  • Oghren: Ha. Branka was only slightly more woman than I am. Bristle-chinned poetess.
  • Zevran: Shocking that our fair Grey Warden didn't choose you instead.
  • Oghren: Wonders never cease.

(Playing as a male character romancing Zevran)

  • Oghren: So... you and the Boss, huh...?
  • Zevran: If by "Boss" you are referring to who I think you are, you are correct.
  • Oghren: Yeah... Well.... Good luck with that.
  • Zevran: Why, thank you ever so much.
  • Oghren: You might wanna...you know...keep it down though.

Zevran and Wynne

  • 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 my 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, Salvail 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.

Zevran and Sten

  • Zevran: I understand that there are elves in the Qunari lands, Sten.
  • Sten: There are elves everywhere.
  • Zevran: Hm. Yes. Well, I've heard that the Qunari actually put the elves in charge? Over the humans? Is that true?
  • Sten: Some of them.
  • Zevran: Only some? Which ones are they?
  • Sten: The ones who belong in charge. That is the way of the Qun.
  • Zevran: How does this Qun determine who belongs in charge?
  • Sten: The tamassrans evaluate everyone and place them where their talents merit.
  • Zevran: But elves, in general, merit higher places than humans in Qunari society?
  • Sten: Some of them.
  • Zevran: Back where we began. It's like talking to a water wheel.
  • Sten: Why do you call yourselves "Crows"? Crows are scavengers, not killers.
  • Zevran: I heard that at one time they considered calling us the Kestrels. But you know. It didn't sing. It didn't dance.
  • Zevran: You seem to have quite the disdainful attitude towards elves, my Qunari friend.
  • Sten: Don't take it personally, elf. I have a disdainful attitude towards everyone.
  • Zevran: "Sten", it's not a name is it?
  • Sten: Do you always begin conversations this way?
  • Zevran: It's your rank is it not? I've met a few Qunari in Antiva you know. Not much for conversation but some of them were quite easy on the eyes.
  • Sten: Those are not Qunari.
  • Zevran: No? They are what then, very large dwarves with comical accents?
  • Sten: They wear the faces of Qunari but they are Tal'vashoth, fiends of Saharon. They have abandoned the Qun.
  • Zevran: With titles like your own though, which makes me curious. What is your real name then?
  • Sten: "Sten" is enough.
  • Zevran: But it is not your name.
  • Sten: It is who I am.
  • Sten: I knew one of your countrymen once, elf.
  • Zevran: Oh? Have you been to Antiva, then?
  • Sten: No. Until I came to Ferelden, I had never left the islands. She came to Seheron twice a year with the traders who bought spices from the northern jungle. Only she among the traders would speak to the antaam. Questions about the rainforest, its depths, and the things to be seen there. We humored her. She was... an unfortunate soul.
  • Zevran: Unfortunate in what way?
  • Sten: She was a Crow, as you were. Sent to assassinate the kithshoks, leaders of the army of Seheron, for the Tevinter Imperium. We knew this, and pitied her.
  • Zevran: I'm surprised you did not simply slay her.
  • Sten: There was no need. Her questions were meant to show her the way through the jungle towards our fortifications. And so one day, she snuck into the jungle to find her target. We found the pieces of her body in a tree, where the spotted cats kept them for later. We had never told her that our kithshoks were the ones who negotiated all the trades at the port.
  • Zevran: Then she was a fool. That's not very sympathetic, I'm afraid.
  • Sten: It was her ignorance we pitied, not her mistake. She believe we hoarded things we cared for as her own people do. We were sorry for her, that she thought only some people were important.
  • Zevran: So, your sheath is empty, then, my Qunari friend?
  • Sten: My sheath?
  • Zevran: You do not seem to be rising to the occasion.
  • Sten: Do you spend your free time composing these?
  • Zevran: Oh, no. They arise in the inspiration of the moment.
  • Sten: You should write them down, then. Quietly.

(alternate version if Oghren was recruited)

  • Zevran: So, your sheath is empty, then, my Qunari friend?
  • Sten: My sheath?
  • Zevran: You do not seem to be rising to the occasion.
  • Sten: I do not know which is worse, you or the dwarf.
  • Zevran: Oh, I am, assuredly. He gets all his best lines from me.

Zevran and Leliana

  • Zevran: So I imagine it has been some time for you, Leliana.
  • Leliana: Some time for me? I do not know what you mean.
  • Zevran: Some time since you last knocked boots, shall we say? You did just come from the cloistered life, no?
  • Leliana: Of course it has been some time. There are more important things in life than "knocking boots," Zevran.
  • Zevran: Oh, I'll not argue that. I simply mean that the body has urges, urges given to us by the Maker. Yours must be... considerable. After all that time.
  • Leliana: That is a very personal question.
  • Zevran: I mean no offense. I simply offer my services should you ever feel the need for... release.
  • Leliana: Let me think about it, then. Should every man in Ferelden suddenly die, you may even have your chance.
  • Zevran: A-ha! Progress!

(alternative to the above last two lines, if Leliana is in a relationship with the Warden but not hardened)

  • Leliana: That's very kind of you. Perhaps I should speak to the Grey Warden for advice on whether or not to accept your offer?
  • Zevran: (Sigh) Adventure has changed you, Leliana.
  • Leliana: For the better, I hope.

(another alternative to the above lines, if Leliana is hardened)

  • Leliana: That's very kind of you to be concerned for my well being, Zevran.
  • Zevran: Let it never be said that I'm not here to help when the call comes.
  • Zevran: So what is it, exactly, that the sisters of the Chantry do for amusement?
  • Leliana: Do they not have sisters in Antiva, Zevran?
  • Zevran; Naturally. Yet we are... hesitant to speak to the sisters back home. They are "atiya nagrano"... how do you say it? Pure. Not to be spoiled.
  • Leliana: And you would spoil them just by speaking to them?
  • Zevran: You really have no idea, do you?
  • Leliana: I wasn't born in the Chantry, Zevran. Sisters... we had many ways to pass the time. Work, for instance. And prayer.
  • Zevran: No time for leisure at all?
  • Leliana: I was not there for idle pursuits and pleasure, Zevran. I was there to contemplate my relationship to the Maker.
  • Zevran: And that's it? Sounds bloody boring.
  • Leliana: What did you imagine your Antivan sisters did, exactly?
  • Zevran: Well, in Antiva the chantries make much of the wine, so I suppose I assumed they... drank it?
  • Leliana: I... doubt that very much.
  • Zevran: And there goes one childhood dream. To think I once longed to be a brother.
  • Zevran: How long were you in that cloister, my dear woman?
  • Leliana: Just over two years. Why do you ask?
  • Zevran: And... and all the brothers and sisters there, they had taken vows?
  • Leliana: Most of them, yes.
  • Zevran: For two years you had no contact with anyone but men and women who... who are promised to some uncaring god?
  • Leliana: What are you getting at?
  • Zevran: Didn't you... didn't you desire companionship, during those two years? Two years! The very thought makes me weak.
  • Leliana: My time in the cloister was a time of contemplation. I occupied myself with thoughts of the Maker, and other... worthy pursuits.
  • Leliana: But like I said, most of the brothers and sisters had taken vows. Not all of them. Some were just affirmed, like me.
  • Zevran: A-ha! That is not so bad then.
  • Leliana: Nothing happened, Zevran. It would not be right to engage in that behavior in a house devoted to the Maker.
  • Zevran: Why? The Maker made us who we are. He made our urges; He gave us these parts. You think He made them for looks?
  • Zevran: So tell me of this vision of yours, Leliana.
  • Leliana: I'm not certain I wish to discuss my vision with you. You'll make fun of me.
  • Zevran: No-oooo, why would I ever do such a thing?
  • Leliana: See? There you go. No, I am not speaking to you of it.
  • Zevran: Hmm. Yes, I suppose the Maker would not want you to spread His words. Very well, I'll accept your reproach.
  • Leliana: I... why do you even wish to know?
  • Zevran: Why, to make fun of you, of course.
  • Leliana: You are utterly impossible.
  • Zevran: On the contrary, I am often told how very easy I am, my dear.
  • Zevran: So come, now. I am serious this time. Tell me of your vision.
  • Leliana: Tell you? Certainly not.
  • Zevran: You've told the Grey Wardens of your vision, have you not? Why them and not I?
  • Leliana: You said that you intended to make fun of me. You actually said that.
  • Zevran: It was funny at the time. But, come... surely you can see I am serious now. I honestly wish to know.
  • Leliana: That's too bad. I honestly don't wish to tell you.
  • Zevran: Then I suspect you don't even believe in your own vision.
  • Leliana: What? I... that's not true! I do believe in it!
  • Zevran: Then you would stand by it, no matter what the consequences.
  • Leliana: Do you intend to make fun of me?
  • Zevran: Well, yes... I can't help it.
  • Leliana: (angrily) I... you... I simply...
  • Zevran: (laughing) I know, I know. Terrible.
  • Leliana: These markings of yours... they have a certain appeal. They remind me of how we used to paint our faces in Orlais.
  • Zevran: Ah, but these are not just paint.
  • Leliana: Do they mean anything to you? These symbols?
  • Zevran: Some do... some symbols are sacred to the Crows. I am not permitted to tell you what they mean.
  • Zevran: Others are there to accentuate the lines of the body... its curves and musculature. It is hard to explain with armor and clothing on.
  • Leliana: But I don't recall seeing many markings on your body.
  • Zevran: Ah, no, of course not. They are not in the places you have yet seen. I can show you, if you wish.
  • Leliana: Err... no, I think not.
  • Zevran: Is this a problem?
  • Leliana: Not at all. I am merely content looking at the markings on your face, that is all.
  • Zevran: Have it your way. Should you change your mind...
  • Leliana: You'll be the first to know, don't you worry.
  • Leliana: We have many things in common, Zevran
  • Zevran: Other than our purity and beauty?
  • Leliana: We both spent many years in places other than Ferelden. You are an assassin, and I, a bard.
  • Zevran: Then you were called upon to kill.
  • Leliana: Often. I didn't like it, but I did it anyway.
  • Zevran: You didn't like it? You didn't like the thrill of the hunt?
  • Leliana: I suppose... I did like that. The hunt... not the killing.
  • Zevran: The killing just signals the end of the hunt. Without it, the chase goes on. You killed your marks cleanly, I hope.
  • Leliana: Whenever possible.
  • Zevran: Good, when the prey is caught, it deserves a good death, a clean death.
  • Zevran: Perhaps you are right; we have much in common.

(Leliana must be hardened)

  • Zevran: I must say, dear woman, I rather like this change in you.
  • Leliana: That's nice, but I'm not sleeping with you.
  • Zevran: Oh, I can think of many other things we can do other than sleep.
  • Leliana: Oh? Then let's see what's in those trousers. I like to make informed decisions, after all.
  • Zevran: That's rather saucy of you, isn't it? You really have changed!
  • Leliana: Yes, yes. I don't see those trousers coming down, however, do I?
  • Zevran: Err...you just want me to show you? Right here?
  • Leliana: Why not? Aren't you the shameless lothario you claim to be? There are rumors about you elves and I intend to see them proved untrue before I even consider a tumble.
  • Zevran: On second thought, perhaps you've traveled to an awkward place where I dare not follow...
  • Leliana: I thought as much.

(after Landsmeet starts)

  • Leliana: Zevran, I saw you looking at that girl in town earlier. What did you think of her?
  • Zevran: My dear Leliana, which girl? I saw many and I watched them all.
  • Leliana: You know, the one with the... with the shoes!
  • Zevran: The shoes. Yes, good reference.
  • Leliana: Well, she also had blond curls worn in a long braid.
  • Zevran: A braid? Oh, that one. Yes, I remember her.
  • Leliana: So, what did you think? You seemed quite enthralled.
  • Zevran: Well, she was... quite marvelous... except for the butter face.
  • Leliana: The butter what?
  • Zevran: Butter face. Everything's marvelous but her face.
  • Leliana: You're a bad man.

Zevran and Shale

  • Zevran: Hmm. I've a question for you, Shale. How does it feel to be a giant statue?
  • Shale: What a bizarre question. How else would it feel?
  • Zevran: Well, let's see... Does it hurt? Do you feel like you've been buried under a pile of rock? Or do you feel nothing at all?
  • Shale: I have nothing to compare it to. How does it feel to be considered an inferior race when compared to others who are just as soft and weak as you?
  • Zevran: Ah...fine?
  • Shale: How very fragile it must be. One touch and its kind crumples, spilling liquid everywhere. No wonder they clad themselves in metal.
  • Zevran: It takes more than just a touch, I'm sure...
  • Shale: I feel very solid. And immortal. No putrid liquids to squirt out of me, oh no.
  • Zevran: Hmm. Now that you mention it, I...I suddenly rather feel like a delicate mushroom...
  • Zevran: I've thought about your predicament, my friend.
  • Shale: It has thought of a way to lure birds out of the sky?
  • Zevran: I mean your situation... being made of stone and such. I imagine it must be terrible for you to see others... together. You know.
  • Shale: Together. As in standing next to one another?
  • Zevran: I speak of love, my sturdy friend. And the act of love. Surely this must bring you discomfort, knowing you can never partake in such pleasures.
  • Shale: That is disgusting. It was bad enough that I had to suffer the occasional pair of villagers lying in my shade, but the idea of partaking? Gah!
  • Zevran: You are stoic, my friend. And brave. You do us a great honor by suffering in silence.
  • Shale: I was not suffering, silently or otherwise, until now.
  • Zevran: I understand.
  • Zevran: So tell me, Shale... if you had the opportunity to become flesh, would you take it?
  • Shale: It does seem rather preoccupied with this topic.
  • Zevran: Humor me. Would you choose to live? To breathe the air and taste of flash? Or would you remain the immortal stone that you are?
  • Shale: Would I also get to age and bleed and become sick and die?
  • Zevran: Of course. These are the things we accept for the blessing of being what we are.
  • Shale: Then no thank you. I have no need of such frailties.
  • Zevran: You were once a dwarven woman. With dreams and passions and all the rest. Does that hold no sway for you?
  • Shale: Why would I wish to be that woman again? She gave up her body, willingly.
  • Zevran: And what of family? Of children? Life does not begin and end with yourself.
  • Shale: I... have no desire to produce offspring.
  • Zevran: Your form is wondrous, that's true. But while you do not suffer the lows of life, you also do not experience the highs. It is something to consider.
  • Shale: It is nothing to consider. What it speaks of is impossible.
  • Shale: I have noticed that the painted elf seeks the attention of the Grey Warden.
  • Zevran: He certainly does.
  • Shale: (Snorts) I watched many such couplings during the time I spent immobile in Honnleath. Or should I say I was forced to watch. You do know that this usually ends in reproduction. I have seen it many times, indeed.
  • Zevran: Oh? That is not such a terrible thought. Creating a new life can be a great deal of fun. (Female Warden)
  • Zevran: I doubt that would be a problem in this partiular instance...but who knows? The act of creation is grand fun. (Male Warden)
  • Shale: So you say. I have no idea how a golem is created, but I doubt I shall be creating one anytime soon.
  • Zevran: Just as well, I imagine. Any lover of yours would no doubt be quickly reduced to a puddle of bruises.
  • Shale: So you see me winning the affection of another golem, do you? Most golems are slaves to whomever holds their control rod.
  • Zevran: Funny, it works exactly the same way for us as well.

(Alternate version if Shale's personal quest has been completed)

  • Shale: I have noticed that the painted elf seeks the attention of the Grey Warden.
  • Zevran: He certainly does.
  • Shale: (Snorts) I watched many such couplings during the time I spent immobile in Honnleath. Or should I say I was forced to watch. You do know that this usually ends in reproduction. I have seen it many times, indeed.
  • Zevran: Oh? That is not such a terrible thought. Creating a new life can be a great deal of fun. (Female Warden)
  • Zevran: I doubt that would be a problem in this partiular instance...but who knows? The act of creation is grand fun. (Male Warden)
  • Shale: Not always. When a golem is created, it involves an agony one would not believe. How fun is that, painted elf?
  • Zevran: Oh, I don't know. It could be plenty of fun, if done right.
  • Shale: Now the painted elf jests with me.
  • Zevran: (Chuckles) You think so, do you? Have it your way.
  • Shale: So here is a question for the painted elf...
  • Zevran: Painted elf? Oh, that's me! I do like that.
  • Shale: Am I to understand correctly that the painted elf is a "crow"?
  • Zevran: Not literally, but... yes. I am a Crow.
  • Shale: As in a bird.
  • Zevran: Is there another sort?
  • Shale: So the painted elf assaults helpless statuary with its feces?
  • Zevran: If given sufficient cause, why not?
  • Shale: That is outrageous! The painted elf will stay away from me. Or else.
  • Zevran: (Sighs) I get a lot of that.
  • Shale: I am curious. Will the painted elf answer a question?
  • Zevran: Why not? I appear to have all day.
  • Shale: The painted elf attacked the Grey Warden, and yet it still lives. Had the decision been mine, its skull would be so much pulp right now.
  • Zevran: Oh, I don't know. Could you destroy something as pretty as I am, hmm?
  • Shale: Easily. I fail to see how any measure of attractiveness would make one difficult to crush.
  • Zevran: Perhaps you do not know how to look, then.
  • Zevran: Take a long look at our Grey Warden, my good friend. Right there we have an object worthy of worship, no?
  • Zevran: One would have to be blind not to realise how very pretty we all are and how important that is to preserve.
  • Shale: Hmph. Perhaps there are definitions of "blind" I have yet to understand.

Depending on the third party member, Zevran's line "Take a long look at our Grey Warden, my good friend. Right there we have an object worthy of worship, no?" may be replaced by others:


  • Zevran: Look at the witch. Dark hair, heaving chest, quivering lips. How could one kill such a creature without bedding it, first?
  • Morrigan: How relieved I am.


  • Zevran: Here, take that templar fellow. Rugged good looks, quick wit, manly shoulders. Just getting him to hop borders is a challenge worthy of the great heroes.
  • Alistair: A challenge? I'd happily hop borders, given the chance. I've never even been close to leaving Ferelden!


  • Zevran: Take the innocent sister, for example. Certainly even you can see the naughty woman waiting to escape from that Chantry frock!
  • Leliana: Mm? That's odd... I could've sworn I heard an insignificant man talking about my undergarments!


  • Zevran: Take a peek at that Circle mage. Must we speak of the allure of an older woman? She has lessons to teach us all, my friend.
  • Wynne: You have no idea, little elf. Keep your imaginary hands to yourself.

(There are no changes for Dog, Sten, or Oghren. Loghain untested.)

Zevran and Dog

  • Zevran: We have dogs in Antiva. They run in the streets and eat garbage.
  • Dog: (Curious whine)
  • Zevran: It's true. They're treated as vermin, mostly. Not like here in Ferelden. You're rather lucky to live here, you know.
  • Dog: (Happy bark!)
  • Zevran: Indeed. Here they make statues of dogs. They carve you into their thrones and put armor on you. Amazing, really.
  • Dog: (Happy bark!)
  • Zevran: But you still smell like a dog. In fact, you smell like several dogs.
  • Dog: (Happy bark!)
  • Zevran: (amused) Yes, well, ignorance is bliss, I suppose.
  • Zevran: I noticed some dog drool in my pack this morning.
  • Dog: (Happy bark!)
  • Zevran: Not that I like to make accusations. And I even appreciate the artistry behind a good burgle when I see it, to tell the truth. But leaving all that drool as evidence? Sloppy.
  • Dog: (Happy bark!)
  • Zevran: I'll take that as an apology.
  • Dog: (Happy bark!)
  • Zevran: I'm so glad you're pleased. It really is quite something to find such enthusiasm in one's companions.
  • Dog: (Ecstatic bark!)
  • Zevran: I agree. Go, team. Hurrah.

Zevran and the secret companion

This section contains spoilers for:
Dragon Age: Origins.

  • Zevran: So, err....is it Lord Loghain?
  • Loghain: I am no longer a teyrn, nor even a knight. Address me without a title, as you would any other Grey Warden.
  • Zevran: So just Loghain, then?
  • Loghain: Correct. What's on your mind?
  • Zevran: You know who I am, yes? I was one of the Crows you hired to kill the Grey Wardens.
  • Loghain: I thought you looked familiar.
  • Zevran: Well, I just wanted to report that I failed my mission, Loghain.
  • Loghain: You don't say.
  • Zevran: I'm terribly broken up over it.
  • Loghain: Hmm. Well thank you kindly for informing me.