A friend of mine once told me that there is always a story to tell. It doesn't necessarily have to be one hundred percent true. After all what else are legend made of if not half truths? A story does however exist, and I have a feeling that if I'm not the one to say it our story will never be told. By the stone, I don't know how he does his story telling so easily, just trying to put it down on paper is making my head spin.

Perhaps it's all this sky. I don't think I'm use to it just yet. It's odd that I've been living on the surface for about twenty years now, and I still feel as though I'm going to fall into the sky. My oddity has definitely gotten better. I can sleep without putting boulders on my blankets now. When we were little He would always laugh at me because I would hold on to the largest and heaviest things I could find to anchor myself to the dirt. Mother was never pleased. I don't know how she expected me to ever stay clean once we started living on the surface. There's nothing holding the water and the rock separate from each other up here. Unlike there not being a ceiling all the time, mud being everywhere is something you get use to very quickly.

I'm sorry, I've gotten off track. Forgive me. I'm not very good at this story telling business. He was always so much better at these types of things than I am. You still don't know who He is, do you? His name is Varric Tethras. Or at least that is what it was last time I've seen him. That was a long time ago. We were different people back then. I have heard however that he's been up to all sorts of mischief recently. It probably has something to do with mages and the Chantry. I don't pay attention anymore to be honest. Once he took that crossbow and left I knew he was up to no good. It just took a little while for him to find his own legend.

I wish he didn't take her. She was beautifully made, and it took my so long just to find the right types of brass. I carved that wood beautifully and polished it until the glare could blind a man. I didn't even get to name her yet. She was going to be my dowry too. He told me when he took her that he'd come back and marry me. That way he could keep her and I could still have her as my dowry. Believe it or not there was a time when the idea didn't seem so horrible, but between the blight and everything that's going on with the Champion of Kirkwall, I guess we all have our hands full.

Yes, I make weapons. I know it's odd for a woman to do it, but with my father sick and my mother being more useless than my brother when he's drunk (which is usually most of time) I'm the only one who has any skill that has nothing to do with lyrium. Mother says I'll never get married because of what I do. I say she should go work at a tavern, and make some money herself. If I left she would be eating dried nug meat and I'll be eating the good stuff myself instead of sharing everything with her.

Honestly, if I have to hear about how I'm never going to make our family have a name I'll run over to Kirkwall hunt that man down and force him to give her back. I've been working on another crossbow recently. Instead of having carefully carved wood, this one has strong ivory with runes carved into the side and silver engraved near the trigger. This one is going to be my replacement… Just in case he never comes back. I've never been very good at waiting. And if I know Varric, which I do, then he's never going to bring her back. I don't think she'll be nearly as strong or nice to shoot, you know what they say. You can never forget your first.

"Bianca?" A familiar voice called out to me with its rough tones. I turned around on my stool I had to make my brother shorten so my feet could touch the ground. You would think that these Fereldan's would start selling furniture for dwarves.

"Finally here to give her back to me, are you?" I asked him quirking my eyebrow at him. "You didn't break her did you?" I asked lovingly looking at the crossbow the dwarf held in his arms. It's beautiful as ever.

"I would never hurt her," He stated acting offended that I would even suggest it. He came towards me strutting as if he owned the place. Now that I think about it, he probably did. "I have a proposition for you." I went back to working on the plans in front of me and waited for him to continue.

"Are you going to tell me before or after you give me back my crossbow?" I asked after a few moments of silence.

"Do I have to give her back? I thought the plan was I was going to marry you so I could have her." He leaned on working desk and I let my eyes wander to his open shirt a little. He was handsome I'll give him that.

"No I'm pretty sure you said that before you stole her from me and didn't give me a word as to what was going on for another six or so years. " I said bringing my eyes back to the paper in front of me.

"Why do you have to be so bitter? Is it because she intimidates you?" I rolled my eyes at him and picked up a quill before dipping it in ink.

"Why don't you just grow a beard?" I asked in exasperation. Noticing thtat he didn't leave I had to ask. "What do you want Varric?" His teasing smile dropped from his face and became serious.

"I need you to tell me where my family tome is."