You're curious about the name, aren't you? Of course you are. If I had a galleon for every time someone asked me about my name I could buy my way into the noble caste in Orzammar and retire in style.

Here's the story. My mother got herself knocked up. No big deal, happens every day to casteless dwarves. Most women get rid of the baby or hope it's the right sex so they can move up in rank.

My mum? She decides having a kid is the best thing to ever happen to her. So much so that she decides she's not willing to risk having a baby in Orzammar and takes every copper she's ever earned and smuggles herself out. The gold wasn't enough, so she agreed to work for the Carta until her debts were paid off.

She's always had a knack for healing, so they sent her to work with an old apostate who patched up any of the poor fighters who somehow managed to make it back to base alive. But let me come back to that.

So she's in the Marches, and decides she wants to make things easy on her kid by giving her a human name. Maybe Mum thought it would make people like me more or I'd do better in trade, I don't know. And she's not around anymore for me to ask.

There was a trend when I was born, I guess, where women named their daughters after flowers and plants. So everywhere my mum looked there was a 'Rose' or a 'Lily' or a 'Poppy.' And my mum decides there and then that she wants to do the same with her brat.

Then one day, a kid comes into the warehouse. Little dwarven boy who the Carta used to run messages once in a while. No parents that anyone knows about. He's miserable and my mum realizes he's pretty damn sick.

The mage is nowhere to be found, so she does whatever she can think of to keep this kid alive until he's back. And one of the main things she does is mix the herb Bethroot with milk and makes him drink the whole damn thing.

A couple of hours later, the mage came back to the warehouse and did his magic, and the boy was right as rain. But the mage told my mum that she saved his life, that if she hadn't worked as hard as she did, he would have died.

Right chuffed my mum was, and two days later, she went into labor and had a daughter. A daughter who would have been branded casteless just like her mother if they hadn't left Orzammar.

She told me once that the moment they put me in her arms, she knew I couldn't have any other name. My namesake saved a life once. My mum hoped my name would inspire me to do the same.

For a while I was determined to prove her wrong, and I broke her heart, running with the Carta, not caring who got hurt as long as I got my gold. Took losing all I had worked for to realize I actually didn't have anything to lose but instead everything to gain.

And now the Inquisition is giving me a chance to finally make my mum proud.