"I hope you won't," Cullen says in return, his lips twitching again, pulling at the scar there. "I'm not joking in the slightest."

Well, he probably is. But that's neither here nor there, as he raises his sword and falls into a familiar defensive stance. He knows they're of an age, but Alistair seems somehow a little younger - lighter - freer from care. Well, moreso than he would've expected from a hero of the Fifth Blight.

Still, that doesn't say anything one way or the other for the man's skill with a blade.