"No more than anyone else," Anders snaps, scowling. He tosses the lily in his hand aside, off into the field, its stem broken between his fingers. He's just as quick to smooth that momentary lapse over, though, with a dismissive scoff.

"I mean, the Chantry says mages are inherently dangerous, but I once saw a dwarf kill a man in a bar brawl with nothing but a wooden spoon, and no one's advocating for locking them all up."