"If I thought you did, we wouldn't be having this conversation." He knows Nevarran accents. This man is no Nevarran. A Tevinter, then? Here? Too many questions and no time at all to try to look for the answers, not if they hope to stay intact long enough to reach the ferry. He had seen the corpse of the other mage. He considers it very doubtful this man summoned those demons only to then go through the trouble of having to fight them instead.

"When we reach the others, let me do the talking." It will go down easier for his men that way, and hopefully Meredith will be too focused on her desire to enact the Right to give too much heed to one strange mage showing up in Cullen's wake.

For all of his hopes that they can make it to the ferry without being accosted, it's dashed before they can reach the Champion's statue. He feels a sudden draining sensation of his strength, his hopes. The shadowy, shrouded forms of shades rise up to a monstrous height around them and close in. Cullen snarls and lunges forward on the attack. He feels the impact of his shield bash well into his shoulder and down his back. The shade he struck seems momentarily stunned for a follow up strike of sword.