Chapter 1: A Seedy Den of Secrets

Intro:

You already know my name. You've probably heard it a dozen times, but I'm sure you don't remember. That's okay, it's not really your fault. Someone I knew once said that blending in and being quickly forgotten are just as good as being invisible. Nobody looks twice at the serving girl who brings them their drinks. They never suspect her of being more than she appears, and that suits my current purposes just fine. I'm Norah, and I wait tables at the Hanged Man in Kirkwall's Lowtown District.

Blending in here means I have to wear a gaudy "uniform". The low-cut blouse in particular is not anything I would have chosen, but it goes with the territory, I suppose. I tone down my appearance with cosmetics, attempting to be passably average. I use a sharp tongue and cold demeanor to keep away any would-be pursuers, but there are a few that see it as a challenge. With enough practice, you learn how to dodge the grabby hands and turn someone down with style.

During the day, the only patrons left in the bar are those who rent the back rooms and a few locals with enough coin to keep them drunk. It's only when night falls that things really happen at the Hanged Man. If you have a vice, you will find it here. Cards, drinks, a quick tumble, a good fight, and a few...less savory things. We serve all kinds here, but that's known all over Kirkwall.

Patrons are often on their worst behavior, which makes it a perfect place for their secrets to slip out. That's why I'm here. I swoop in and gather up those little jewels when the opportunity arises. To the right person, they're priceless, and I happen to know plenty of the "right people". Invisibility has its perks.

I notice the day is getting late, with the orange glow of the evening sun creeping under the door. I bring yet another pint of ale to the man near the entrance. I forget his name, but he's a regular. Corff, the bartender, catches my eye and we give each other a nod of acknowledgment. He loves the chaos around here. Says it makes for good gossip. His philosophy is, if you share a good rumor with the new customer, they'll buy another drink and ask for more. Not a bad sales pitch. He gets paid and reveals only a little surface level news from around town.

You know, come to think of it, I don't think Corff ever leaves his station all day. Every time I look, he's there at the bar, chatting up the customers with his charming smile and good looks. His stance suggests he knows how to handle himself, and I can make out the outline of muscles under his shirt. That tells me Corff has a few secrets of his own, but if they're worth it, I'll get them in time.

You can't just go hawking information from a street corner, however. You have to be subtle, like Corff. Hide your true intent behind polite smiles and stay invisible. That's probably why the dwarf who rents the large suite, Varric, irritates me so much. He's a different sort of player in the secrets game. He's always talking, but finding anything useful in his elaborate stories takes all day.

I get his drinks wrong on purpose. I do it because I think it's funny, but it's also a good excuse to come back and eavesdrop. He complains about the drinks, but keeps ordering from me anyway. I'm not sure what his real motives are. He seems the type that would do it just to aggravate me, but it never hurts to be careful.

His friends are trouble too. Well, not Isabela. Her, I like. She's still trouble, but the good kind. I've seen the way she cheats at Wicked Grace and I bet I could learn a thing or two from her. She's pretty in an obvious way, with her swarthy skin and confident swagger. So she lacks tact and morals, who doesn't in this joint?

I know Isabela better than Varric's other friends as she's often here at the bar, but I watch the others too. The last one to visit Varric was an obvious apostate who kept yammering about mage rights. Rumor has it that he's the one who runs the clinic in Darktown. Seriously, if I can find him by just listening in on a few conversations, the templars must not even be trying.

There were two elves the other day. The young one practically screamed "easy mark"-were I so inclined-all sweet and innocent. But she's Dalish. The Dalish have a lot of secrets, sure, but none that anyone would really pay for. The other elf, however, the broody one-I heard him say something to Varric about being from Tevinter. As far as I know, elves are slaves in Tevinter. I doubt this one got away easily. That's far more valuable in the grand scheme of things. I'll tuck that away for later, it might come in handy for what I have planned.

Hawke is the worst of the bunch. She only arrived a little over a year ago, a refugee from Ferelden, and already people know her name. I heard Varric plans to take her on this Deep Roads expedition, hopes they'll all come back rich as kings. Maybe then she can afford the high horse she rides around on. There are a lot of people who would give a fortune to know Hawke's secrets and weaknesses. Hell, Hawke's the reason I came to this cesspool of a city in the first place.

Shit, speak of the devil. Hawke walks in the door, looking like she owns the place, dragging along her usual entourage of rabble. The broody elf, the sour-faced apostate and—Maker preserve us—the guardswoman, Aveline. Why does Hawke insist on bringing her here? It clearly makes everyone uncomfortable. Everyone gets it, you're strong and like to boss people around. You don't have to wear your guard armor everywhere you go. Let the people here drink in peace. At least she talks loudly enough. I don't even have to be close to listen in on what she's saying.

Hawke strides straight past me toward the back. Predictably, she doesn't glance once in my direction. Or Isabela's, I note. Wait, did Isabela just look disappointed? I assumed Hawke would head to Varric's suite as usual, but she doesn't. Immediately intrigued, I follow on instinct, grabbing the bin of dirty mugs as an excuse should I be spotted. A crowd has gathered around Varric's door, listening to his latest tale, and from inside I hear, "No shit, there I was..." Good, he's just getting started. I don't need to worry about him for a while, either. I easily slip past his door unseen behind the mass of bodies.

I suppose some might find Hawke attractive, with her shoulder-length auburn hair and green eyes, but I just find her loathsome. Despite her humble upbringings, she has a haughty attitude that conveys that all others are inferior to her, not unlike the nobility I'd known. While that may have enhanced my dislike of her, it certainly isn't the only reason. I have a lot of reasons to hate Hawke.

I think back over what I have learned about her. I know she had been working with the smuggler Athenril for the last year and made a reputation for herself by taking on jobs that others couldn't. She doesn't mind getting her hands dirty, but not too dirty, of course. Her name seems to be on the lips of everyone lately, but I'm not learning anything I can really use. Perhaps I'll go see Athenril, remind her of our arrangement.

I pause my ruminations as Hawke turns the corner. I wait for a moment, and listen.

"You're always dragging me into these things," Aveline says in a low voice that still carries easily in the short hallway. "Are you sure this is necessary, Hawke?"

"I won't be long, just stand watch out here if you don't like it. Besides, I make your life more interesting and you know it," teases Hawke.

Aveline gives an impatient grunt, followed by, "Just be quick about it".

It is clear from this conversation that I'm not going to have an easy time in spying on Hawke any further, not with her personal guard dog on the watch. Thankfully, I'm not without options. Still carrying my bin of dishes, I slip into the unoccupied room next door. After checking to make sure there is no one else inside, I close the door and sit in a chair near the far wall. The room Hawke had entered is on the other side. I whisper softly, "Cat, are you there?"

A hazy glowing figure materializes out of the shadows of the dimly-lit room. My old friend. I've learned that most spirits lack form, and that being brought into this world corrupts them, turning them into demons. Cat, however, looks the same as she ever had. I may have changed over the years, but she hasn't. I call her she, for that is how she appears, her image that of a young girl around age 10 or 11. The same age I had been when my magic began to manifest. Given how I grew up, I had good reasons for hiding both it and her.

"Is it time for another adventure?" she asks, eyes wide. Cat is a spirit of curiosity, and is always interested in learning new things or having new experiences. It's no wonder that we became friends. We have a lot to offer one another.

I grin at her. "Of course! Hawke is next door and she's doing something secret. I want to know what it is."

She smiles. She likes secrets as much as I do. "Okay, I know what to do. Don't be seen. If I'm seen, make them forget."

"That's right; you're so good at this!"

Cat giggles and shrinks into a small form, and her glow dims until I have to strain to see her, even knowing where she is. Cat can easily slip into the smallest of spaces, and will report back what she sees and hears. She's a perfect companion for someone like me.

After a few minutes, I hear the door open next door. Footsteps echo down the hallway, indicating Hawke is leaving. Cat returns not long after.

"I learned some things!" she exclaims. "It was a bit boring at first, though." She looks sad before continuing. "They were just waiting for someone. I guess they murdered some bandits and wanted to be paid for it or something. Then they started arguing, and that's when it got better. The blonde apostate has a spirit inside him! He and the elf were yelling back and forth about it. I guess the elf hates mages for some reason, he was pretty grumpy about it. I thought they were going to fight each other! But then they didn't. That was disappointing."

"Wow," I comment, impressed. "You really did learn a lot."

Cat met my eyes directly, and said "They all were worried about the spirit, even the blonde guy. I don't think it was good for them to bond like that. He said it changed both of them. That won't happen to us, will it?"

"No," I reassure her. "We won't let it. We're fine as we are, Cat. You're my dearest friend."

"Yes, my friend who shows me new things! Let's do something more fun next time, though, okay?"

"You got it, Cat. I'll take you somewhere more interesting next time, I promise."

She gives me a grin, and slowly becomes more and more transparent until she fades from sight completely. I know she's gone, but will return if I called for her. Cat's been with me since I was a child. We've been through a lot together.

I'd learned to imitate a Kirkwall accent, but I didn't actually grow up in the Free Marches. I don't have any memories at all of my birth parents. I was raised from as early as I can remember by a wealthy aunt who couldn't have children of her own. It should have been an ideal situation - two people who needed someone to love them. But, like most people, she had her own agenda, her own secrets. She didn't take me in out of the goodness of her heart; I was just too young at the time to know any better.

Life was hard back then, and did not improve when we found out I had magic. My aunt made it clear that she was not my mother. She told me my mother abandoned me, and I believed her for a long time. The naive innocence of childhood, I think, shaking my head.

I'm so grateful for Cat. She came to me when I had nobody and was lost. I try not to rely on my friend too much, but her help can be truly invaluable. Like tonight, for example.

Spirits are vulnerable, especially outside of the Fade. Even virtuous spirits can find their purpose twisted and turn into a demon. I never want to hurt Cat like that. I mean it when I say she's my friend. She is the only being I've ever been able to trust, because her nature doesn't change. People aren't like that at all. They will all turn on you, betray you, use you. You have to be vigilant and get the upper hand before they do.

Hm, so Hawke's companion is an abomination? I may have avoided life in the Circle, but even I know that bonding yourself with a spirit usually goes very, very wrong. The sour-faced mage may be dangerous, but his clinic helps people, people who probably couldn't afford it otherwise. Turning him into the templars is an option, but that would take him away from the good he's doing. I don't much like templars, anyway. Somehow, I doubt they pay well. I think I'll just sit on this information for a while, and keep tabs on him. There might be a way to use this against Hawke. All secrets can have value, it's just a matter of timing.

Well, I haven't learned quite the information I had hoped for, but it's something. I know Varric and Hawke are headed for the Deep Roads soon, so my true mission will have to wait if I don't act quickly. Time to set up that meeting with Athenril. Maybe something she can offer will be the key to bringing down Hawke.