"Archaeologist, yes," Deidre stated. "You don't really have much of a choice in terms of careers when you're raised by the followers of Andraste...you either become a scholar, or you climb up the ladder and be one of their politicians. If you're a woman, that's really all you've got going." She grinned cheekily. "I'm built more for adventuring than politicking, so I went with the former....but we're all required to become priests once initiated. I suppose I could've always decided to become one of the Affirmed...but then I wouldn't have been able to take advantage of the education they afforded. Only initiates get to be taught and I wanted to learn."
She shrugged as she bit into her sandwich yet again, a hand accepting the ale brought to her with a quick smile. "The problem with being out there so much is that you learn things that conflict with what you've been taught," she told her. "It's....a lot easier to be the Chantry's ideal if you keep close to it, and concentrate on study and prayer. But that wasn't me....and it would never be me. I've learned that the world at large can be an infinitely better teacher than books." She grinned. "Probably the reason why I get in so much trouble with the Revered Mother. I hear the Grand Cleric groans at the very mention of me."
Deidre took a drink of her ale, listening to Imenry's description of Orlais. She laughed, afterwards. "Ah, Orlais, the grandest empire in all of Thedas," she said, her voice heavy with drama and irony, brandishing her sandwich to add to the image. "Thanks to Empress Celene I's efforts, the country's become the foremost cultural hub in the continent. The best museums, the best productions...the best education can be found there. But I found the society to be so....have you ever come across something so annoying and visualized yourself just....holding his head down the water until the flailing stopped? That's how I felt about their aristocracy. And the Chevaliers." She wrinkled her nose. "Damned shiny, horse-riding, nose-in-the-air perfumed buggers that they are. I'd take our templars any day, if you ask me."
She tilted her head backwards, overtaken by a memory and grinning over at Imenry. "I was seventeen when I was asked to accompany a group of clerics for the annual meeting of the College....the College of Clerics... in Val Royeaux. I had the opportunity to go with them and see an opera called Alcyone. I thought it would be good enough if I just wore my usual Chantry robes, but noooooo. Sister Justine insisted we fit in the local society, said it was more of a diplomatic measure than anything else. So she squeezed me into this..." She paused, and she burst out laughing. "Poofy pink dress with a million petticoats and put my hair up in ribbons and made me wear these shoes that were impossible to walk on comfortably. I was hobbling like a lame horse through the night, dressed like the biggest fuschia cupcake ever I looked ridiculous. But she was sitting there gushing at me like I was the prettiest princess ever and I was so torn because I love her to death but I was so mortified I was actually mad at her for subjecting me to it. Thinking about it now, it makes me laugh...but it certainly wasn't funny at the time."
Drinking more of the ale, she set the bottle down. Imenry's query caused her face to soften, a warmer light filling her eyes. "Yes," she told her with a smile. "That would be Denerim."