"And I am honored in turn," Signy responded, nodding, the offended look easing slightly as she concentrated on trying to get the surfacer greeting properly; atrast vala still seemed a thousand times more natural, less unwieldly, less strange. "I am Signy, previously of House Dagna." That seemed to strike a balance between ignoring her heritage and making it seem as though she was still noble, still a dwarf of Orzammar instead of a casteless surfacer. She glanced back at Savio, and followed his eyes with, after a moment, a short scoff.
"Oh? Battleaxes are actually much better hid a bit lower down. It's traditional to keep them in the skirts of large gowns." She even pointed. It was strange, but that reaction actually made her feel slightly more at home, more like she had just been dragged out to the alehouse and was there to sit and roll her eyes at lewd comments by men half drunk and twice her age. At least Savio wasn't drunk—there was quite a bit less slurring involved and he hadn't anything unseemly stuck in his beard. She shook her head and patted the tiny hand-sized dog again, before glancing back at Ordhan. "Ser indicates something, doesn't it—it's a warrior title?"