i love this scene between scian and merwyn because merwyn is literally giving a speech about herself

[Scian enters, leading Fjall by a chain around his wrists. They are flanked by two of Eredin's guards.] [Merwyn notices Fjall entering over Avallac'h's shoulder and is immediately uninterested in their conversation.] Merwyn, dismissively, to Avallac'h: Leave us. [Scian leads Fjall and the soldiers up to Merwyn proudly. Merwyn has a soldier bring her Soulreaver. Scian stares at it longingly.] Merwyn, inspecting Soulreaver: Soulreaver. One of father's favorite prizes. Had this been another time, I'd have returned this to you. [Scian is shocked and lunges forward.] Scian: No-- Soldier: Stay there. [Fjall, confused, begins growling.] Merwyn: But these are new days. A bright future lays ahead; regretfully, not for you. [Merwyn flings Soulreaver onto the floor. Scian is held with a sword at her neck by one of the guard.] Merwyn: You're a sellsword and Ghost Tribe. So you see why I can't let you go. [Scian is shaking with rage, a muscle twitching in her jaw.] Scian: You… will honor our agreement. Merwyn, cockily: Honor? Well from the legends that I've read, your Ghost Tribe was honorable above all else. And yet here you are, a betrayer, sellin' out your fellow warriors for a bit of metal! A disgrace to your ancestors. Scian, murderously: I'll skin you alive. Merwyn: Take her to the square. Behead her with the sword she betrayed her friends for! Scian: I'll haunt you for eternity. [Scian is grabbed by the hair and pulled backwards with a sword at her throat. She does not flinch, continuing to stare at Merwyn.] Merwyn: And place her head on the city gates as a warning to malcontents. Scian: May your womb rot, and your name be forgotten. [Scian is turned around by a soldier and led away. Merwyn looks on, bewildered and hollow. She looks at the ground.]

i'm totally normal about this scene between meldof and callan

Meldof: It's torture. You lot aren't made for taking this much pain. [Meldof passes Callan her pipe.] Callan: Elves can take a lot more than a dwarf can. That's a well-known fact. Meldof: Ah! Fact. Eleven fact. [She stares pointedly at Callan. He hears her meaning, glances over at her.] Meldof: We've been taking punishment from the likes of you for generations. Suffering and pain you'll never understand. [Callan nods, dismissively, seemingly uncomfortable with the conversation.] Callan: Yeah, but... you know, it was a long time ago, you know. It--It wasn't-- Meldof: Wasn't you? [They sit for a beat in silence. Callan has nothing to say.] Meldof: Your world is built on our bones. [Callan nods again, seemingly accepting that he will not understand.] Meldof: Know why I call those monoliths cock towers? Because our ancients buried them to bring fertile bounty to the land. They're sacred. And, yet again, elves defile them. No wonder famine's rife. Callan: Look, you know, you won't find me denyin' it. [Callan passes the pipe back.]

TOTALLY NORMAL. 1000% A REGULAR GAL.