"I am probably going to literally have a sign that says 'profit from dwarven classism, ask me how'."
The sick old man is in it, now awake and moving around and not dying of unspecified poisons.
"Thank you, Warden," he says to Tev, breaking off his conversation with another man in similar clothing.
"You're welcome," says Tev. "This is Annie; she did the magic that healed you."
"Thank you, Annie. Redcliffe is in your debt."
"You're welcome. I can take it back now; it has an inconvenient side effect you probably don't want to keep forever." She holds out her hand.
"Prince Stalas Aeducan of Orzammar," he says with a slight bow.
"I am... surprised, to receive a visit from one of Orzammar's princes."
"There's a Blight on. The Wardens called, and Orzammar answered."
"Fair enough. And now that you have accomplished your mission...?"
"Back to Orzammar, I think, until it comes time to muster the armies. You'll see me again then, I predict."
"Hard to say, at this point. You've saved us weeks, but Metella still has to speak with the Dalish, and then there's going to be politics," says Tev.
"Are we going to stay here somewhere and leave in the morning or just turn around and go back...?"
"I don't know what the accommodations are like and how they compare to being carried by a golem!"
"And you would be welcome to stay at the castle if you wished," says the arl.
"Might be nice to have one night in a bed. I think I'd have a crick in my back if I didn't regenerate," admits Annie.
"Sure. We can stay at the castle and leave in the morning. Thank you, Arl Eamon," says Tev.