Cullen snorts and rolls his eyes. It's nice to hear the others laughing, enough that he doesn't feel compelled to retort. It's good for them to see that he can take ribbing at his expense, that he's not another Meredith, not a tyrant to be feared at any sign of confrontation, even light hearted.

He grips his sword tighter and braces himself. As expected, the onslaught of fire flushes out three spiders, nasty wasp spiders with shiny black legs, poisonous red abdomens, and fierce tempers to match. The templars and guards are on them the moment they emerge from the flaming burrows.

After what happened the night before, none of them are willing to lose another comrade.