Northstar Vale please ignore sunrise

the woman's eyes drift his way at his chuff of greeting and glacial gaze watches her, ears cupping forth as she speaks. not in a tongue he understands; unfortunate that. one that he doesn't recall andraste herself speaking either; it doesn't sound like the tongue of the vale and it's too different from the melodic lilt of tundrian. ❝i know a few tongues but that is not one of them.❞ he tells her, her words going rather unacknowledged for the simple fact that they sound like gibberish to him.

melkor watches her descent from her stony perch, coming down to ground level. ❝i'm melkor.❞ he introduces himself to her, assuming that even if she knew very little common she could still pick up on his name.