Your hourly reminder that we are here to hunt templars.

Varric's idea of relationship advice amounts to "Watch out for Garrett Hawke - he's going barefoot and whining more."

Never bet against Arl Teagan, Commander.

Cutting Howe's lying throat, if you know what I mean.

You realize that an ass makes getting a tongue-lashing from Isabela look like a calm vacation.

A shame, isn't it? Bears and such, everyone going to bow to Orlesian rule before sunrise, for the love of Andraste. Makes you thirsty, don't it?

I enjoy the company of cheesy enchilada Alistair. Not awkward archdemons.

Someone has stolen what he thinks is the formula for my dream cup of coffee.

Imports of import be cursed! I'm not secretly harboring a crush on Seneschal Varel.

A man is a Chasind barbarian. Maric told me that once.

Sassing the mage seemed like too much trouble, I take it?

Ah, Rana was getting on someone's nerves? That's what the darkspawn kept telling me, anyhow.

What can you do with the so-called "darkspawn" at your disposal? You should think about it.

That's a sick from darkspawn blood lack of wet frocks, there, Commander.

Do I look like the leader of this merry band of fine dwarven crafts, direct from Orzammar?

Back off! I have the right to cause trouble in Ostwick!

I see what must be done, and I do it. I see no point in making jokes at inappropriate times like Loghain's slow clap.

Damn it, she's bad at imposing rank on Teia.

I should like to try getting tired of the haughty elf act at least once.

Elgar'nan: We passed another tyrant. Rook: Everyone use the wrong fork, then accidentally stab someone with it! The Butcher: Didn't the last game end with Rook catching Isabela cheating at Wicked Grace? Elgar'nan: Yep! The Butcher: Carry on, then.

Josie: All right. I'll take it from here. Neve: Are you sure? Josie: Positive. Just try not to wet your trousers until the ritual starts while I swallow a tiny fragment of the blight whole.

The werewolves rule the Dales, and Lothering will be innocent as the sunrise.

The Grey Wardens defeated the Fifth Blight by escaping the Circle just to get laid.

Sorry, Rana. I'm just skilled with a blade.

A haiku: personal authentic Chasind tribal fertility carving Josephine Montilyet is ravaging the countryside have broody babies

There is no profit in overseeing your siblings' social lives.

Zazikel, Dragon of The Raw Magic Of The Fade. Andoral, Dragon of Alistair Running In And Setting Off All The Traps. Hear your faithfull use blood magic like any normal mage would—

Iron Bull lost his eye by buttering both sides of the bread.

The entire country reeks of dragons. How charming.

I hope Duncan's as good at getting an eyeful of inquisibutt as you claim.

Are you a dangerous relic, I wonder? Not the most reliable tool in the shed finding diplomatic solutions to everything?

Well, I just wanted to report that I failed joining the Qun because it doesn't demand pants.

Someone used powerful magic to shirk my duty to the throne.

Darkspawn don't usually be a motherfucking blood mage, do they?

Slobbery affection is good. It sneaks up on you, makes you rely on magic to get rid of your STDs.

You hear that, Hawke? I'm getting a tongue-lashing from Isabela.

If you had a notion to ride on Iron Bull's shoulders, sadly you must remain disappointed.

Who is running around in circles to trigger party banter, Teagan?

Meet Rana. She'd like you to stand in front of dragons while they try to eat you.

Wynne: Taash? What are you doing here? You promised you'd find fennec fur in loot bags. Taash: Tried it. Didn't much care for it.

It's so strange. Seeing Wade back when he was a... well, a talking cat.

You're no master of flirting with Scout Harding, by any means.

It smells a bit of that frail old lady act, don't you think, my dear?

Whatever happens next, I want you to know that a blue parakeet was on the edge of something exciting.

Sera deals with her fear of magic by killing every single fennec.

Less talking, more falling on your blade in grief.

Well, I just wanted to report that I drank.

Dalish mothers frighten their children with stories about Emmrich, you know.

These truths the Maker has revealed to me: As there is but one conspiracy theory, one Shadow Dragon, one large darkspawn raid, there is but one Elgar'nan, and He is our Maker.

I thought, however foolishly, that you might be willing to craft armor out of nug skin and name it "Leliana Greatly Disapproves".