There's a thump and the scratching sound of wood across floor that heralds a chair being sat in heavily.

"Everyone keeps saying the Chantry can't be forced, that the good will has to grow and be nurtured, and it's absolutely infuriating to have to treat this powerful monolith that has always dealt in iron fists with soft open hands and kind words and kneeling to beg for what's rightfully ours. Why can't we just--" [Disgusted noise], and the quiet rustling sound of hands dragged through hair.

"What do we do then. Find something? Someone's journal, a carving, a... something else?" Nari sounds resigned, but she's still doggedly moving forward. "If it's on us to find the Maker's way, why not us."