[ As an opposite, Robyn had practice as a girl, but less as a young woman (whose interests involved archery and roguish training rather than ladylike formalities) and as a Warden. Hurriedly, a little rusty in the gesture, she curtsies, straightening to peer curiously at him. ]

I suspected the Free Marches, but... [ He's clearly a nobleman, and despite her origins, she seems (likely) anything but. Fairly conscious of the state of her dress and how exhausted she must seem, she tucks hair behind her ear, clears her throat, and says: ] My lord, I am Robyn Cousland of the Grey Wardens, formerly of Highever.

[ No longer. Her family is dead and she is a Warden; who she was before isn't very important. ]

But, the Inquisition? Of the Chantry, you mean? I... didn't realize there was an Inquisitor.