[Handshakes are not a thing a respectable Kalvadan lady does, yet Wysteria Poppell—Wysteria de Foncé has been in Thedas quite long enough that she is more or less prepared to receive his hand when it's offered. She is not wearing gloves; the acid green flare of the anchor in her off palm is in nauseatingly contrast to the bright blues and soft yellows of her day dress.]

It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Etsija. [You can tell due to the enthusiasm with which she pumps his hand up and down. Yes, she is a very accomplished shaker of hands.] I would welcome you to the project, but that would risk implying that I have some guiding hand in the whole thing whereas I am merely a—let a say a consultant. That sounds much better than hobbyist. The project has no leader at present, so we are all equal in the eyes of the Maker in this room.

[She laughs, a bright sound. This is an excellent joke for many reasons, not the least of which being the one where the Maker is notoriously uninterested in using his eyeballs for assessing any mortal creature, in this office or otherwise.]

Although I'm afraid that means you will find very little direction from this room either.

[She is still shaking his hand.]