Kostos frowns at him for a few second—unfazed by the tone, he isn't sensitive, if he couldn't take the sort of bluntness he dishes out then he would be even more of a dick than he already is—and then says, "I've not forgotten."

Idly, and without asking, he begins taking each of the empty tankards next to Anders and tipping them over to spill whatever drops are left into a single mug. It's barely anything, but maybe it's enough for him to get one drink. How much of that drink will be Anders' spit—let's not think about that. He is both broke and unfinicky. He's had more questionable body fluids in his mouth belonging to people he's spoken to for even shorter periods of time.

"And I am not dragging anyone anywhere. What I want and what I will get are two different things," he says, and drinks. He doesn't have the charm to allow for even a sardonic toast beforehand. It's perfunctory. He puts the mug back down. "If someone has the power to put us back in Circles after all of this, I won't live to hide in one. I have killed too many Templars by half."