"I know, and I want to be told of any such things." He's serious about his efforts in weeding out the last of Meredith's staunch supporters. It's harder when people don't speak up. His own men are still feeling their way in the new regime and have never been quick to turn on other templars.

It's a relief to hear they don't fear him. It's a start. He can work with that. Somewhere between Greagoir's path and Meredith's there has to be some sensible middle ground. He's determined to find it before it's all taken out of his hands.

He falls into a somewhat pensive quiet, glancing around as they go. There are memories here, good and bad, voices that will never sound again, faces he'll never see. Somehow he's more numb to it than he was at Kinloch Hold. Rather than filling him with horror, it just leaves him tired and sad.

He stops where their corridor branches. "This is us," he says, gesturing.