"I'd never underestimate a dwarf as connected as he," he assured her. He was lucky never to have been directly involved in Varric's own brand of playing stir stick, and he intended to keep it that way if he could.

"Do you think if I stayed out of the Gallows, I could avoid my own annoyances?" he asked. He had his suspicions that her mother's death had a lot to do with her restlessness and staying on the move. He wasn't about to touch on that out here or now. Better to keep that part of the conversation light.

He nodded. Any other words, and they'd veer into the bitter territory of Loghain's betrayal, the loss of Cailan, and more personal losses. "Thank you," he said a little absently, veering the skiff to avoid the dark shapes. At least they weren't moving.

Marsh grass rose to either side of the narrow inlet, muffling the lap of the waves and hissing softly in the breeze coming off the land. He decided this was a good place to drop anchor, secured the oars, and moved to do just that. "The traps are under the center bench, close to the mast. If you want to get them out, I'll get the bait. I'll apologize ahead of time. It's rank, but supposedly the crabs love the stuff."