It’s curiosity more than anything else that brings Solas down to the lower levels of the mansion. He has helped a few people that he’s happened upon, but he hasn’t been going out of his way to do so. There is no death here, he’s been told, and while he doesn’t revel in needless suffering, he isn’t inclined to put himself at risk for the sake of people who will just be brought back to life later. No, it’s these Infected that capture his interest: what they are, what it is that infects them.

And the best place to observe them and learn from them is down here where they congregate.

Solas is slinking through the shadows in his old elvhen armor when he catches sight of a passably familiar shape. There aren’t so many in this place that he mistakes it for someone it is not. Altering his stride, he follows, then when the opportunity arises, steps out beside Brennan with a faint expression of curiosity. Their last meeting had not ended on a high note. He is cooler now, distant and neutral.

“You are a long way from safety, Inquisitor.”