Prompt: Marley was dead: to begin with


Marley was dead: to begin with, that much was abundantly clear. Donnen Brennicovick sat back from his study of the body, armor creaking.

"Poor old Marley," he said, nodding at his lieutenant to deal with the remains. "Clearly a murder by the lowest of the low in these parts—the Black Hand himself."

"How do you know, ser?" asked young recruit Jillian, her big blue eyes wide with wonder.

Donnen gave her a slow smile and a wink that made her blush. "Intuition, recruit." He tapped his head. "I've got a feeling."

"Varric, that's absolute nonsense."

"What is it this time, O wise Captain?"

"Your method of investigation! No real guardsman would go accusing someone of murder based on intuition. There has to be facts! Actual evidence, not... suspicion based on some gut feeling."

Varric scratched his chin with the nub of his quill. "I'm working on a limited time frame here, Aveline. Publisher expects a new Brennicovick story every week. I don't have time to do proper research." He cleared his throat meaningfully. "However... if I had an inside source... someone who could let me know how exactly our brave city guards work..." He shrugged and made a motion as if to get up from the table. "But I don't know where I could find—"

"Oh give it here!" Aveline snapped, taking the bundle of manuscript from Varric. She grabbed his quill too, making marks and notes in the margins.

Varric sat back down, smiling, and laced his hands behind his head.