"Of course it's going to spit acid. It couldn't spit something else, like delicious cookie dough." He sighed, glancing first to the Flump and then to the door.

"And how exactly are we supposed to do that? Just -- ask it?" Alistair is never going to be okay with magic, not fully. He might not have bought in to the Chantry's words, but he'd seen what corrupt mages could do with his own two eyes.