The polite smile grew solemn. Ordhan was grateful she had not assumed the worst of him, but now her hesitation gave him pause. She knew of the hatred Dolain harbored for humans, but had vouched for him despite it? Perhaps it had mellowed, as she said, simmering from bloodthirst to the resentment common to Denerim's elves. Still, the hint of doubt in her voice was no comfort.
He blinked at her, stunned. "You remember me?" he asked, unable to hide the incredulity in his voice. Shame rose, unbidden, as it always did at the memory of his time in the city guard. If she remembered those days, it was likely she would think he deserved whatever he had suffered at Dolain's hands--and she may not be wrong.
"I--no," he quickly added, dismissing his own question with a slight shake of his head. "It was more recently, after I was knighted." Ordhan paused, allowing himself a moment to regain composure and to brace himself for the embarrassment ahead. He began slowly, only able to look at her eyes now and again as he spoke. "He sent a child to ask for help, but had set a snare. I was robbed, bound, hung from the ceiling and left to die. It was only by the Maker's grace I lived."