Sometimes the beginning of a good story starts off nice and smooth to lull in the unexpected reader. They can start off with a overflow of words that can engage the reader to use their brain and picture a painting they couldn't paint by themselves. It can start out right in the middle flinging them head first into what is happening, then take them back to the beginning for a simple introduction. It can positively start off with a shocker of a reveal that happens at the end, then work itself backwards from the start, or just screw around with the timeline keeping everyone on their toes.
Sometimes the prime way for being a storyteller was to tell a good story to their readers. Varric, on the other hand, will say it as nothing more than telling just a good story, no matter how much bullshit was piled atop it. He was just giving his readers what they wanted to read, which wasn't a lie if he didn't know his own audience.
In the lines that he would'veused, here was Varric leaning on a wall in Hightown overlooking the crowd gathered in the merchants guild section. It was most tedious with the usual banter. A deal gone sour, someone hiring the Carta for a quick smuggle, rumors of some random man asking Bartand for a Dwarven mustache ride at the Rose again. That last one he had to smile at since he wasn't the one who spread that particular rumor and only wished he could shake the persons hand or buy them a drink. If anything he needed something as mean spirited to keep him occupied from Bartand bitching. He was either threatening at Varric for not working harder or schmoozing any nobles willing to give away pocket change for this trip.
Varric had to chuckle at the thought of any nobles funding something that wasn't tied to a cheese business or the most gaudy afternoon nightgown.
So therein lies the intrepid storyteller lounging away, in a very discreet corner of the Merchants guild, watching Bartrand put on another lively show of-
"Fuck me? Fuck you, and pay me the costs that were due two weeks ago for supplies you sodding dust biter."
A lovely show of 'miserable bastard' for all of Hightown to watch. Then again, by the volume and picked up speed of his cursing Varric would think they be in debt for disturbance of the peace. Sadly, since his rants were heard far away from the Viscount office the Guard could care less. Which made Varric all the more happy to gain more cannon fodder for his next story he was working on. Something new needed to be ready and going by the steam in Bartrand's ears, Varric was sure he could mold the perfect anti-hero to appeal to his readers. Granted Bartrand wasn't going to be the mold for the protagonist. Maybe a two-bit villain to make way for the real villain. Or perhaps a no name thug that gets introduced then promptly killed off in the next chapter.
This tickled Varric's curiosity to imagine if he could get away with killing the Bartrand thug in less than a paragraph.
'Perhaps If I were to build him up like a proper thug, make him seem like mister capable himself, doing a routine job that never goes wrong...then have him die of a heart attack when the hero jumps down from the ceiling.' Varric thought that lat bit would do wonders. Grab the reader's attention to see who else would go next to their untimely demise. 'Nah, best save that for a turning point in the story in case I hit a bump during the writing process. Which I doubt will ever happen unless Kirkwall suddenly becomes the happiest and safest place to live.'
.Varric turned his gaze around the merchants guild to gather more fitting character types. There was the new dwarf Bodhan with his son, who forever gave the creeps when he wasn't spouting about enchantments. Maybe a good rival to lit the fire in Worthy's arse with his price gouging lately. Of course there was Bartrand arguing with Carver of all people, in a rather heated argument. He couldn't figure out, or rather, didn't want to know what is was about since it was mostly about the Deep roads.
However, standing off to the side was a striking figure that took all of Varric's will power to not stare with his mouth open. They stood rather impatient in their coat tapping the toe of their boots. The large mabari wagging its tail, matching its master, was a sigh for sore eyes. The person looked a little thinner and more toned with muscle, but nothing could replace those plump lips. Even if she wasn't dressed to kill, it was sleeping beauty trying to gain work.
That's when the idea hit Varric like one of Bianca's bolt gone astray. He had the perfect story to write that not only would give what his readers craved, but perhaps be his greatest work.
Hawke couldn't believe the looks the men were giving her as she didn't cave under their stare. "I said I'm looking for work in the deep ro-"
"I know what I heard woman, but I doubt this is going to be a cute little outing with your lap dog." Bartrand bellowed looking at Lady. "I could care less if it was your guard while you cook for the men."
Hawke felt a rush of anger grow before she replied. "I can assure you I have experience with-"
"I can assure you madame, we don't need someone to keep the workers warm at night. The thought of the gold we receive will be enough." Carver interrupted, standing in front and looking over her with a playful gaze.
Hawke on the other hand walked up until she was staring into Carver's eyes showing a bit of annoyance. "I have experience killing darkspawn to help protect them. Although you can save a lot of money if we use your pampered mouth to show the workers a sample of being noble."
Bartrand would laugh at the balls this woman had mouthing off to an Amell, but he didn't have time for comedic timings. "Look, you and half of the dog lords say the same thing. We don't need muscle. We need money to continue and I doubt you have enough to pay on your back, on your knees or with that toothpick you wield. The answer is no."
"Look I can get Meeran to vouch for my professional stance on keeping in line." Hawke didn't want to sound needy, but she hoped her old employer could throw in a good word.
Carver of course took this opportunity to sneer at the woman: "Seeing as I have personal dealings myself with the Red Irons, I haven't heard much from Meeran about your services. So, much I heard from the others about your glorious deeds with Douglas."
"See? I knew ya, aren't worth the price on your back." Hawke grew red at the insinuation before stomping off. "Hey, at least wait until I finish talking! Damn dog lords, even their women are like the bitches they breed."
Carver looked pointed at Bartrand for that remark. "Hey, now you just also insulted the future mother of my children. She doesn't just breed for anyone."
Bartrand smirked. "That's not what Peaches said last week. In fact she couldn't say much since her mouth was rather busy."
Carver let out a disgusted shout that echoed through the merchants guild into the paths toward the market as Hawke was marching towards the Keep.
She was rather livid to realize not only was this rumor a wild chase, but any rumors concerning her time in the Red Irons was no better than the gossip that surfaced through the Blooming Rose. She felt rather angry at herself for not keeping a professional attitude and sticking to path of being the adult. However, Hawke was reaching her stretching point in this city, wishing if she wasn't so piss-poor at elemental spells, that she would burn this city down to the ground. She just needed an excuse to let loose the anger.
A person bumped into her being pushed back with rage. "Watch where you're going asshole!"
The person looked scared before scrambling off in terror leaving Hawke to mull over her situation. It wasn't until seconds passed by that Hawke realized she no longer felt a familiar weight at her hip. Reaching down to fix the latch, fingers only felt empty air where coin was, leaving a rather intense gaze where the man was. Hawke went out in a full spring as Lady bolted ahead catching the man's scent.
"Shit! Shit! Shit! SHIT! All my coins were in that pouch and earned! I swear when I find that little prick." Hawke stopped her dark thinking as she came into contact with the thief turning a corner with Lady at his heels.
As Hawke rounded the corner, filled with dark glee, the thief went flying in front of her towards the wall. A bolt was in his shoulder as Lady snarled at the man. It seemed a deep chuckle emitted from the shadow corners of the man who stopped him. Not so much as a man, but a dwarf slinging a rather complicated crossbow, walking over to her purse snatcher.
"I knew a guy once who could take every coin out of your pockets just by smiling at you. But, you?" He sauntered over to the man taking the purse out of his shirt with relative ease. He smiled at him with hidden sarcasm. "You don't even have the style to work Hightown, let alone the Merchants guild. Might want to find yourself a new line of work."
With a quick left hook the thief was knocked out, with a bloody nose, leaving him to pull out the bolt from the thief's shoulder. "Off you go."
Hawke took all this in thinking not only was she caught off guard by a small time thief, but now her money was in the hands of a bigger thief. Until the her purse was thrown at her with ease. It seems the Dwarf thought her purse as small change.
"How do you do? Varric Tethras, at your service." He bowed in a rather gentlemen was assuring he was no threat.
However Hawke was left a little skeptical until his name echoed back in brain. "Wait, Tethras? You don't happen to be related to that vile short motherfucker a moment ago?"
"Hey now, our mother was a saint and wasn't into that. But I do apologize for Bartrand not realizing a good deal unless it punched him in the face." He smiled actually looking Hawke in the eyes.
"But you do?" She asked rather skeptically.
"I do, my Lady. What my brother doesn't realize is that we need someone like you on this venture and not some pampered noble going outing for a stroll. Of course, he would never admit it due to his pride. I, however, am quite practical."
Hawke gave the dwarf a quick once over for good measure. He was dressed rather well for a Dwarf, seeing as his clothes were rather clean marking one off the list for his part of a clan. However he was missing a rather prominent feature on his face that marked all Dwarves. Then again, if Varric did sport a beard then the family resemblance would be too uncanny and she would have to try very hard to resist the urge to punch him. Still, it was rather curious for Lady to accept him being this close without growling.
"Seeing as you passed some tests about your character, you still don't seem the type to go off into the Deep roads."
"That's only because the Deep Roads wouldn't normally be my thing, but I can't allow the head of the family to go down there alone."
"That seems more than a passing interest to keep family safe, but I doubt I can be of any help since your brother and his partner just insulted me on various levels." Hawke looked back towards Bartrand arguing rather furiously with the prat. "I doubt there is nothing to know about me to even merit help."
"Oh, on the contrary. you used to make quite a name for yourself over a year ago in Athenril's hands. Seems Lowtown really misses Lightning Hawke and her furious fists." Varric noticed the hidden pang of regret as her mouth made a tight line. "However, you jilted her for not taking a dive, ruining your honest reputation, and joined up with the Red Irons."
"I can already guess how this will turn out." Hawke muttered leaning on the wall, opposite of the thief.
"I only heard the best on how merchants during their travels were taken care of by your furious polearm and faithful mabari keeping away trouble. Plus, the hidden talent of elfroot potions for healing is an adding bonus when you have the knowledge for it."
"I never used elfroot all the time...Oh." Hawke stopped her train of thought looking and what he was insinuating, and one of her hands secretly went for her pike.
"Careful now. I only meant it as a compliment. Not often you get someone who isn't slathering leeches on your cuts. Especially when Meeran is too cheap to buy another healer when he can buy more muscle." Varric was rather smooth in keeping his tone nice and calm so he wouldn't spook the poor woman let alone her pet. Being shit out of a giant dog wasn't on the list today.
"Still you are going out of your way just to hire another guard. There's got to be more to this than you're letting on."
The bait was taken as Varric let a giant smile emerge on his face. "What we need Madame, is not another hired arm, but a partner to help us fund the trip." This made Hawke look at him like a confused owl. "The truth my brother won't let anyone know is, technically he has a partner, but he can't fund us due to some conflicting problems with the banks."
"Let me guess, his mother is holding a tight grip on his purse?" Hawke chuckled at the thought until she noticed Varric not smiling. In fact, he was looking at her with a serious look. "Wow, I didn't think that was the reason. He seems rich enough to fund three deep roads, even if he seems like a prat."
"Well, now you know our problem. Look, let's walk around for a while and I'll give you every detail pertaining to this, but I can assure you, I believe we need a partner like you in our midst." Varric guided Hawke towards the Viscount keep, just missing Meredith making her rounds from the Market.
"I'm willing to listen, but tell me everything I need to know about this partnership."
Varric listened carefully before sweeping his arms open with a particular speech he had practiced for tonight's story. but decided that a simple answer would be enough: "My dear, I am just the man you need when it comes to telling a story."
A/N:Sorry finals are here so I am pretty much going crazy from work...thankfully falling back to this is making my stress less...stresfull. Please leave critiques and reviews.