Changes: Varric Tethras/Dialogue

Revision as of 20:07, 11 January 2015

Varric Tethras' dialogue contains a list of conversations he has with his companions.

Dragon Age II

Varric's remarks

(upon entering the Hanged Man for the first time)

Talkative man: That man over there. He's been staring at me for an entire hour. I counted.
Varric: Maybe he likes you.
Talkative man: No. He knows. He knows that I know. But what he does not know is that I know that he knows that I know.
Varric: How do you know that he doesn't know that you know that he knows that you know, you know?
Talkative man: What?
Varric: Exactly.

───────

Freelance prostitute outside the Blooming Rose: Varric! I haven't seen you in ages! When are you going to introduce me to more of your friends?

───────

(Entering The Blooming Rose) "Madame Lusine runs this place for Harlan. Or with him. Or on him. It's a Coterie thing."
(Entering Hightown market) "I spend way too much time here."
(Approaching the Viscount's Keep) "You can't miss the Keep. It practically screams, 'Nothing fun ever happens here!'"
(In front of the chantry) "I like the chantry. This is the only place in Hightown where the Merchants Guild won't come looking for me."
(Entering Hightown estates) "Stay out of the shadows. There are a hundred times more cutpurses here than in Lowtown."
(Entering Lowtown bazaar) "The Merchants Guild has their fingers in all these pies. Well, not the actual pies. They're clean as far as I know."
(Approaching the Hanged Man) "My favorite spot in the whole city. The taverns in Hightown are all owned by the Merchants Guild."
(Entering Lowtown's foundry district) "Oh, right, the rusty metal spike district! My favorite part of town! Can we leave now?"
(Approaching Gamlen's House) "No offense to your uncle, but this house smells like really old cabbage."
(Entering the elven alienage) "The elves who don't live here actually have it worse. I'd hate to be an elf in Darktown."
(Arriving at the Docks) "Can we skip the Gallows? I've had my oppression for the day, thanks."
(Entering Darktown's abandoned mining tunnels) "Can I suggest that we never come here again?"
(Passing by the Wounded Coast lookout point) "Water. Pretty exciting, I know."
(Entering the Bone Pit) "Hubert's miners must be a desperate lot to work here."

Combat comments

Before a fight:

Grab something sharp and pointy! We've got company!
Looks like trouble's coming!
Bianca, baby, introduce yourself!
Bianca's locked and loaded!
Last one to strike, buys the drinks!
Ah, please, Bianca can handle this herself!
Line them up for me, I'll take them down!
I'll make this quick!
Bianca's ready and willing.
Let's do this!
Never fear, Varric is here!
How many people do you have on your tail?
We've got more on the way!
Friends everywhere. Lovely.
Looks like we missed a few.
Oh, look, they've brought their friends!
More? You're not exactly the most popular person in town.
More of them, great! I was starting to get lonely!
Why is it nobody ever seems happy to see us?

During a fight:

Watch out for the big guy!
Anyone feel like jumping in on this?
Alright, I might be out of my league here.
We're in trouble here!
Somebody wanna give me a hand with this?
I'm good, but I'm not that good.
You don't want me to aim for something -I don't know- less impossible?
That's a bit far, don't you think?
All in, over here!
I'll take you all!
You wanna piece of me?!
(laughs) Let's dance you sons of bitches!
Dance with me, precious, I'll show you a thing or two!
You'll have to be faster than that!
Can we wrap this up, sooner rather than later?
Come here and give Bianca a kiss!
I could do this in my sleep!
Bianca's getting lonely!
Is that all you got?!
Come here, you bastard!
Keep your guard up! These guys play dirty!
They're sneaking around behind us!

Kills an enemy:

Not the brightest thing you could've done!
When's the fighting start? Bianca's starting to get bored!
Another one for me! How many have you got, Hawke?!
That's enough out of you!
Somebody order a shot in the face?!
Bianca, you minx! That was beautiful!
That was a beauty of a shot!
Better luck in the next life!
Piece of cake!
One more for the dwarf!

After a fight:

I think Bianca's gotten scratched.
I'm getting too old for this shit.
Maker's breath, Hawke. You do get results, don't you?
I'll just call that bunch 'enemies' and footnote it later.
Nice work.
Ugh, I think I got blood on my coat.
Nobody wander off!
There's a lesson to be learnt here. Messing with us is suicidal.
Ah, I didn't even get their names that time.
Remind me never to get on our bad side. Seems to be... unhealthy.

No effect:

Bianca's not doing much here!
Nothing I'm doing seems to work!

Recovering from KO:

Dear Varric, please learn to parry. Your innards. Ouch.
I knew I wasn't dead, there'd be more women around!
Blast, I got hit worse than I thought.
I'm fine. Where's Bianca?
Just give me a second here!
Bianca, you okay? Oh, I'm sorry, baby!
Let's... not do that again. I'm not ready to meet my ancestors.
That could've gone better.
I'll try to repay you by not doing that again, deal?
Thanks! That was a little too close for my taste.
Thanks! I'm not ready to go just yet.
I'm too good looking to die this young.

About to KO:

I'm not going to make it!
This isn't going so well!
Much more of this and all I'll be able to do is bullshit them!
I- I think I need a rescue here!
First person to help me out here is my new best friend!

Low on stamina:

Ah, I think my arm is going to fall off!

Someone else KO'd:

(If Hawke falls) Hawke, hang in there! I'll get you out of here!
(If Hawke falls) Damn you, Hawke! You can't die on me yet!
(If Hawke falls) Void, take us all! Hawke is down!
(If Anders falls) They got what's-his-name! The mage!
(If Aveline falls) Holy mother of green cheeses! How'd they take that woman down?
(If Bethany falls) Hold on, Sunshine, I'm coming!
(If Carver falls) Hang on, Junior, help's on the way!
(If Fenris falls) The tame elf is down!
(If Isabela falls) Don't die on me Rivaini, you still owe me a pint!
(If Merrill falls) Blast it! Daisy got herself knocked out!
We're losing people!

Taking a potion:

Does this stuff have side-effects?
Hope this works!
Just give me a second here.

Stuck:

I'm -uh- I'm stuck!
Sodding-! I can't move!

Trap:

Everyone stay still and try not to make any loud noises.
Someone's left a surprise here for us.
Oh, for the love of-! These are my new boots!
Now that's just rude. What are they trying to do? Ruin my boots.
Not likely.
You want me to do what? Uh- I don't think so.
You know, I might be able to give you a hand with that.
Want me to take a look at that?
I love doing that.
Easy as pie.

Location comments

Act 1

(Lowtown, day) Despite the name, Lowtown's not so bad. Just... more likely to be destroyed by tidal waves than Hightown.
(Lowtown, night) A lot of people are afraid to come here at night. I don't know why. The thieves will still shoot you in daylight.
(Hightown, day) Ah, Hightown. Where the rich go to piss their money away. This really is the best place in Kirkwall.
(Hightown, day) Keep a hand on your coin, Hawke. There are more cutpurses in Hightown than in rest of the city combined.
(Hightown, night) It's pretty here at night. Once the nobles are out of the way, you can really admire the scenery.
(The Docks, day) Bartrand likes to make me deal with the harbormaster. That man always smells like cod liver oil.
(The Docks, night) Have I mentioned that dwarves are lousy swimmers? Just... keep that in mind before you talk to any drunk sailors.
(Darktown) You know what I love about the Undercity? Absolutely nothing.
(The Hanged Man) If you try any of the beer nuts, make sure they aren't moving first.
(The Hanged Man) Want a drink? I'll put it on my tab.
(The Hanged Man) This is the best place to listen to gossip in Kirkwall.
(The Blooming Rose) This place reminds me way too much of the Merchants Guild.
(The Viscount's Keep) I don't know what the ancient Tevinters used this place for, but I bet it wasn't "making people feel at home".
(The Chantry) I've always kind of liked this place. It's like a building full of sweet old grandmothers.
(Sundermount) Oh hey, nature. I've heard about this. Thought it was just a rumor.
(The Wounded Coast) This is, beyond a doubt, the most wretched place I've ever been. The sooner we get back to Kirkwall, the better.
(The Bone Pit) I've lived all my life in Kirkwall, and until now, I've managed to avoid coming here. Wish I'd kept that up.
(The Deep Roads) I will not be sorry to see daylight again.
(The Deep Roads) I am getting truly sick of looking at stalagmites. Or are they stalactites? Shit, I don't know.
(The Deep Roads) Andraste's ass, dwarves actually live down here? On purpose? What in blazes for?

───────

Act 2

(Lowtown, night) You know who I don't want to meet in a Lowtown alley at night? Pretty much anyone.
(Hightown, day) Don't make eye contact with dwarf merchants here. I've skipped the last five guild meetings.
(Hightown, night) I've heard the nobles grousing about the commoners moving up. Congratulation, Hawke! You ruined the neighborhood!
(The Docks, day) What is this smell? Why does this place always smell?
(The Docks, night) This place rivals the Undercity for "worst part of Kirkwall".
(Darktown) This is some of the most expensive real estate in Kirkwall. Usually paid for in body parts.
(The Hanged Man) If you want a drink, order it from Corff. In three years, Norah has never gotten my order right.
(The Hanged Man) This is the best tavern in Kirkwall. It could use some cute dwarven serving girls, but otherwise, it's perfect.
(The Viscount Keep) How many servants do you think it takes to clean rafters in this place?
(The Chantry) You know, I think the Chant of Light would be more popular if it had more battles in it. Just a hunch.
(Sundermount) You know, this outdoors thing is growing on me. Like a tumor.
(The Bone Pit) This place gives me the creeps. It's probably the name. They should call it "the pie fields". Everyone likes pie.

───────

Act 3

(Lowtown, day) I got used to this placed being filled with oxmen. It's strange not seeing them around.
(Lowtown, night) What is this smell? I think someone's murdered an elf in the alley. Watch your step.
(Hightown, night) All the most interesting things in Kirkwall happen in Hightown after dark. True story.
(The Docks, day) Great, it reminds me that I have five shipping manifests to look over when I get home.
(The Docks, night) I don't care what people say, the sound of waves is not soothing.
(Darktown) And this is still the rankiest pit in Thedas. Never changes.
(The Hanged Man) If you want to see something funny, flirt with Edwina. Go on, I dare you.
(The Hanged Man) My palatial suite in the Hanged Man is your palatial suite, Hawke. Make yourself at home.
(The Hanged Man) Did I pay my tab this month? Ah, I'll sort it out later.
(The Viscount Keep) After what happened here, I can't imagine anyone's eager to move into the viscount palace.
(The Chantry) The grand cleric reminds me of my mother. A really tall version of Mother. With a nicer hat.
(The Wounded Coast) We're surrounded by nothing for as the eye can see. Why do we keep coming here?

Varric and Hawke

Act 2

(At the beginning of the quest Repentance)

Sebastian: I-- Hawke! We were just talking about you.
Hawke: Carry on. I love to eavesdrop.
Varric: "Hawke said sarcastically."

(If the aggressive option was chosen)

Varric: "Hawke said aggressively."

(If the diplomatic option was chosen)

Hawke: "Saying good things, I hope?"
Varric: "Hawke asked diplomatically."

Hawke: You know I hate it when you do that.
Varric: "Hawke muttered in an angry aside to the dwarf..."

───────

Act 3

(Inside the Hawke Estate, must have Dog)

Varric: You know, you play diamondback better than my cousin Vidar. (To Dog)
Varric: You wag your tail whenever you have a good hand, though. Might want to watch that.
Dog: (Barks)
Hawke: Is it brilliant or horrible that you play diamondback with my dog? (humorous) / It's a short tail. I'm sure nobody notices. (diplomatic) / He doesn't take well to having his flaws pointed out. (aggressive)
Varric: All I'm saying is, he'd be up more than two sovereigns if he watched his tells.
Varric: My Uncle Emmet has a whole pack of rat terriers who play every week.
Varric: They're a cutthroat bunch. You've got a long way to go to be their quality.
Dog: (Growls)
Varric: Now don't take it bad—you're still better than Anders.
Dog: (Happy bark!)
Varric: Coming to the Hanged Man later?
Dog: (Barks)

Varric and Anders

Act 1

Anders: What?
Varric: Just wondering if the feathered pauldrons are an essential part of the moody rebel mage persona.
Anders: What are you talking about?
Varric: I'm working on an epic poem about a hopelessly romantic apostate waging an epic struggle against forces he can't possibly defeat.
Anders: What do you mean, "can't possibly defeat?"
Varric: Well, it's not a good story unless the hero dies.

───────

Anders: I've always wondered, why is every surface dwarf a merchant or a smith?
Varric: You left out criminals and hired muscle.
Anders: They don't count.
Varric: We dwarves are drawn to shiny objects. Sort of like Magpies, but with business sense.
Anders: You're kidding.
Varric: Of course I am. We come to the surface with the skills our ancestors had, Blondie.
Varric: You think there's a tradition of dwarf woodcutters in Orzammar? Bee keepers? Sailors?
Anders: Well, there could be mushroom growers and nug wranglers.
Varric: Orzammar will never let those people go topside. Too vital. Also, embarrassing.

───────

Varric: So a human, an elf, and a dwarf walk into a bar...
Anders: The human says, "You're lucky you're so short. That hurt like mad!"
Varric: You could have just stopped me, Blondie.
Anders: Why waste a perfectly good set-up?

───────

Act 2

Anders: Boiling in oil.
Varric: Too prosaic. Trapped in a cave with hungry bears, right at the spring thaw.
Anders: That lets him off too easy. Dipped in molten gold and left as a statue in the Viscount's Keep.
Varric: Ooh. That's poetic!
Hawke: What are you two talking about?
Varric: What to do to Bartrand when I find him.
Anders: Any suggestions?

───────

Varric: Blondie, I don't mean to sound critical, but have you considered a new line of work?
Anders: Such as?
Varric: Pretty much anything? I don't think "renegade mage" has a bright future. Or any retirement plan.

───────

Varric: If you've got something to say, just spit it out.
Anders: Are you sure you want to encourage me? I might be about to confess my undying love.
Varric: I get that a lot. So what's on your mind?
Anders: I just realized it's been a while since any of the gangs in the Undercity came to my door.
Varric: They're busy people. Places to go, throats to cut. Maybe you've slipped their minds.
Anders: Right. The apostate running the free clinic in the sewers. Easy to forget. You didn't have anything to do with this?
Varric: You must have me confused with someone else! I'm just a businessman and a storyteller.

───────

(If you complete Dissent)

Varric: Oh, cheer up, Blondie. You're making me cry just looking at you.
Anders: Don't.
Varric: You made a mistake. It happens.
Anders: I almost killed a girl.
Varric: You've killed two-hundred and fifty-four by my last count. Plus about five hundred men, a few dozen giant spiders, and at least two demons.
Anders: It's not the same.
Varric: Why? Because this one you feel bad about? Maybe that's the problem.

───────

Act 3

Varric: So, three templars walk into a tavern.
Anders: Not right now, Varric.
Varric: You feeling all right, Blondie? You're always in the mood for templar jokes.

───────

Varric: So, the knight-commander... Boiling in oil? That one never gets old.
Anders: This is past time for joking.
Varric: I'm helping you indulge in elaborate revenge fantasies. I think it's good for you.
Anders: Meredith will die. Do not doubt that.
Varric: Go away, Justice. Can Anders come out and play?
Anders: [Justice voice] Stop.
Varric: You are no fun anymore.

───────

Varric: You've been glowering for days. Your face is going to get stuck that way.
Anders: My face is the least of my concerns right now.
Varric: That's because you don't have to look at it.
Varric: If you could see it from this angle, Blondie, it'd be at least a close second on your priority list.

───────

(If Hawke romances Anders)

Anders: You're giving me that look again. What are you writing this time?
Varric: So, you and Hawke... I need some details. Did you go down on one knee? Did he/she jump you? Did you swear eternal vows of love, or is this just a physical thing?
Anders: I don't see how that's any of your business.
Varric: Fine, but if you don't tell me, I'm just going to have to make it up.

Varric and Aveline

Act 1

Aveline: Varric, do you do anything?
Varric: Am I the next stop in your career evaluations? Joy of joys.
Aveline: You watch and you talk. Is that it?
Varric: You are dismissing hallmarks of both the utterly ineffectual and the incredibly dangerous.
Aveline: I don't know what you mean.
Varric: It means coins flow when I talk and when I shut up. Like if you got paid to guard or unguard.
Aveline: That makes no sense.
Varric: Good.

───────

Aveline: Maybe I should put you to use Varric. Have you pen some warnings for the lawless.
Varric: Who's that for? Are most criminals big readers? Seems like pacifying the nobles.
Aveline: Pictures then. It was just a suggestion.
Varric: Well how about a giant sign that just says "Don't." You could hit people with it.
Aveline: Thank you, I get the point.

───────

Varric: A Fereldan in the guard. What will they think of next?
Aveline: You have a problem with that?
Varric: Me? My family's not native either. I'm just surprised. Lots of old prejudice in the guard.
Aveline: I'll give them plenty of reason to change their minds.
Varric: You know, it's possible they're just scared shitless of you. That's my theory, anyway.

───────

Varric: So what do you do, Aveline?
Aveline: You know I'm a guard, why are you asking?
Varric: I mean in your off-duty hours. For fun. You've heard of it, I hope?
Aveline: These are my off-duty hours.
Varric: And the trend of you scaring the piss out of me continues.

───────

Act 2

Aveline: Blondie, Sunshine, Daisy, Rivaini... What am I?
Varric: Beg your pardon?
Aveline: You don't call anyone by name except for me. Where's my nickname?
Varric: That's not true. There's Hawke. And Bianca.
Aveline: "Hawke" is a family name and Bianca is a crossbow. Don't change the subject.
Varric: Haven't thought of a good one yet. What do you think of "Red?"
Aveline: Too common.
Varric: Well, when you think of one, let me know.

───────

Aveline: You, Varric, have a very large mouth.
Varric: And here I've always looked up to you. What is it now?
Aveline: There were fistfights in the barracks over who is the model for your guard serial.
Varric: Hard in Hightown. Riveting stuff. Everyone loves a dirty guard on the edge.
Aveline: Varric.
Varric: Fine. I'll start his big finish. Three chapters until Donnen Brennicovick retires and opens a tavern on the coast.
Varric: I sure hope he makes it. He's getting too old for this shit.

───────

Aveline: You are very close to losing your printing blocks, Varric.
Varric: Once more I am falsely accused of whatever it is that I am accused of. Falsely.
Aveline: Someone swapped the text of my recruitment poster with some filth from the Blooming Rose.
Varric: That does sound pretty good.
Aveline: Sure, fill barracks with whores. But you've also filled the Rose with guards.
Varric: It is true what they say. The best comedy comes from tragedy.

───────

Aveline: You know the Tethras family businesses are registered in your cousin Elmand's name?
Varric: You don't say?
Aveline: But I can't find any record of you having a cousin Elmand.
Varric: I'll introduce you some time. He's a little on the shy side.
Aveline: Varric. He's imaginary.
Varric: Which makes him a much better head of the household than I am. He never misses the Merchants Guild meetings, for one.

───────

Act 3

Aveline: You're too quiet, Varric.
Varric: I'm thinking of switching to romances. Nothing? Not even a foreboding frown?

(Only if The Long Road has been completed)

Aveline: I am content. Write what you will.
Varric: Well that certainly takes the fun out of it. Contentment in the barracks? Who'll pay to hear that shit?
Aveline: Then I should have thought of it years ago.

(Otherwise)

Aveline: Do what you will. I don't care.
Varric: That is... not a comforting thought.
Aveline: It is what it is. I'm used to it.
Varric: I think we've both lost some inspiration.

───────

Aveline: Why are you still here, Varric?
Varric: Starkhaven's too pretentious for me and Cumberland's too boring.
Aveline: You always say you hate commitment, but here you are, six years later, still at Hawke's side.
Varric: Aveline, I thought you'd have noticed by now: I lie a lot.

───────

Aveline: Strange, I always thought I'd wind up arresting you some day.
Varric: If I ever decide to get caught, Aveline, you'll be the guard I let catch me.
Aveline: "Let catch you?"
Varric: "Decide to get caught" didn't trip you up though. Good to know!

───────

Aveline: How are you at finales, Varric?
Varric: I'm expecting some practical experience fairly soon.
Aveline: Make it a good one, will you?
Varric: For you, madam, endless sunsets and roses.
Aveline: Varric.
Varric: And the swift hand of the law sweeping all aside. I thought it went unsaid.

Varric and Bethany

Bethany: You don't seem to like your brother very much.
Varric: And here I thought it took blood magic to read minds.
Bethany: I had a twin brother, Carver. He used to nail my braid to the bed while I was sleeping.
Bethany: I never thought I'd miss him this much.
Varric: Sorry about your brother.
Varric: Hey, you want mine? I've got a spare...

───────

Bethany: Do you ever wish you lived in Orzammar?
Varric: Great Ancestors, no! You know what Orzammar is?
Varric: It's cramped tunnels, filled with nug-shit and body-odor.
Varric: And every person there thinks he's better than you because his great-great-great grandfather made a water-clock or something.
Bethany: But they're your people. Don't you even wonder what it would be like?
Varric: I have a good imagination. Why would I waste it on that?

───────

Bethany: Are you really not afraid of apostates? Not even a little?
Varric: Sunshine, I'm a dwarf. In case you missed that detail.
Bethany: Dwarves aren't completely immune to magic, you know.
Varric: No, no, no! I meant there are at least thirty people in this town who'd murder my family over trade deals.
Varric: Who has time to worry about apostates with a Merchant's Guild breathing down your neck?
Bethany: In that case... I see.

───────

Bethany: Your family used to be noble, right?
Varric: By some definition of the term.
Bethany: Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like, if you were still nobles?
Varric: Sunshine, nobility is just an expensive lifestyle. I've already got one of those.
Bethany: Nobles have power, too. And responsibilities.
Varric: Estates, servants, investments, mercenaries, assassins? We've still got all those things.
Varric: It's sunnier here, and nobody calls me my lord. I think I can live with that.

───────

(Only if Birthright has been completed)

Varric: So... Milady Sunshine, what's your first act of noblewoman going to be?
Bethany: A noblewoman with no fortune and no title? Looking for work, probably.
Varric: Practicality is for peasants, my lady. You need to do something frivolous to celebrate your birthright.
Bethany: Such as...?
Varric: Come up to the Hightown Market and complain bitterly that there's no Orlesian silk that matches your eyes.
Bethany: But what if something does match my eyes? What will I do, then?
Varric: Insist that they're blatantly copying you, and demand royalties. A good noble always has a complaint ready, Sunshine.

Varric and Carver

Varric: You know, Junior, it's eerie how much of a resemblance there is between you two.
Carver:
- (If Hawke is male) We're brothers. What's eerie about that?
- (If Hawke is female) She's my sister. Of course there's a resemblance.
Varric: Ooh, you thought I meant Hawke. I was talking about Gamlen.
Carver: Maker, I hate you dwarf.

───────

Carver: Don't look at me.
Varric: What's your issue now, little Hawke?
Carver: Don't call me...just don't alright? You're just looking for fodder for your stories.
Varric: You think you're that interesting?
Carver: I have enough trouble being overshadowed as it is. I don't need to get caught under an imaginary me, too.
Varric: Don't you worry. I'm not in the business of lullabies or children's stories.

───────

Carver: I'm surprised these tunnels don't simply collapse.
Varric: Dwarves made them.
Carver: Then I'm surprised they're not smaller.

───────

Varric: You know, Junior, you're looking at this all wrong.
Carver: Whatever it is you're about to say, I'm not interested.
Varric: I'm a professional younger brother. Trust me, the center of attention's the worst place to be.
Varric: When things go wrong, and they always do, that's where all the fingers point. Look at any kingdom in Thedas.
Varric: You've got people who warm thrones, and people nobody sees who do the real work.
Carver:
- (If Hawke is male) So my brother is a king now? Just what he needed.
- (If Hawke is female) And my sister is a queen in this scenario. Perfect.
Varric: Point. Missing it. Ah well.

───────

Carver: Varric.
Varric: Carver.
Carver: Still think you're helping while burying us in debt to your brother?
Varric: Still riding side-saddle while bitching at your betters?
Carver: Drinks later?
Varric: Never miss'em.

Varric and Fenris

Act 1

Fenris: I thought all dwarves had beards. Where's yours?
Varric: I misplaced it, along with my sense of dwarven pride and my gold-plated noble caste pin.
Fenris: I thought maybe it fell onto your chest.
Varric: Oh-ho! The broody elf tells a joke!
Fenris: I don't brood.
Varric: Friend, if your brooding were any more impressive, women would swoon as you passed. They'd have broody babies in your honor.
Fenris: You're a very odd dwarf.
Varric: And you thought I was joking about the pin.

───────

Varric: So where's your beard, elf?
Fenris: Elves don't grow beards.
Varric: Huh. I thought maybe you'd shaved it off in a fit of broody pique.
Fenris: So you're a funny dwarf.

───────

Varric: So, elf. That thing you do with your hand...
Fenris: I can already tell this isn't going anywhere pleasant.
Varric: I bet that makes pickpocketing easier.
Fenris: I'll try it some time and find out.

───────

Varric: Is brooding a sport in Tevinter? Do they hold competitions? Hand out trophies for the best scowls?
Fenris: I'm not "brooding."
Varric: Moping, then. You seem like you're a champion at it.
Fenris: I'm perfectly content at the moment.
Varric: Oh, so that's you smiling? Glad you clarified that. I'd never have known.

───────

Act 2

Varric: You know, if you need advice on how to lay low I can give you some.
Fenris: Being short would make for an excellent start, I suspect.
Varric: Keep that up, serah, and you can keep on hiding like a rank amateur.
Fenris: What would you suggest, Varric? Cower in the shadows like a rat?
Varric: You could try wearing something that didn't scream: "I hate you all, I was a slave!"
Fenris: The markings would still show.
Varric: Really? Through anything? That's... kind of cool.

───────

Varric: You really ought to take that offer, elf. It would keep the Coterie off your back pretty much permanently.
Fenris: I don't need employment.
Varric: But it wouldn't kill you to make some friends in this city. Three years, and you're practically a ghost.
Fenris: I prefer it that way.
Varric: Healthy attitude there. Forget I said anything.

───────

Varric: So what do you do in that gigantic house all day?
Fenris: Dance, of course.
Varric: Really?
Fenris: I run from room to room, choreographing routines.
Varric: You're actually joking. Alert the Chantry! They need to put this on the calendar!
Fenris: And you thought I was always serious.

───────

(If you complete Family Matter)

Fenris: So you found your brother.
Varric: I did! Wasn't expecting that.
Fenris: I assume there was a time when you and he were friends?
Varric: With Bartrand? No, just brothers. Occasionally he wasn't insufferable.
Fenris: And yet you remained at his side.
Varric: Too bad he didn't do the same.

───────

(In front of The Hanged Man)

Fenris: I still don't get the name. Did they hang someone here?

(If Isabela is in the party)

Isabela: It means being drunk.

(If Anders is in the party)

Anders: Someone is "hung" if they are drunk, I believe.

Varric: Actually they used to hang men there. By their feet.
Fenris: Well, good thing they were drunk then.

───────

Act 3

Fenris: So who is "Bianca"?
Varric: My crossbow. Say hello, Bianca.
Fenris: But why Bianca? You must have named her after someone.
Varric: Nope. Mirabelle was taken.
Fenris: The way you fondle your weapon is disturbing.
Varric: Hey! I'm a perfect gentleman. In public.

───────

Fenris: I notice you hardly ever comment on mages and templars and such.
Varric: It's a lot of humans in skirts. I get them mixed up.
Fenris: I highly doubt that. The subject comes up all the time.
Varric: Tell me about it.
Fenris: And no opinion? One way or the other?
Varric: Opinions are like testicles. You kick them hard enough, doesn't matter how many you got.
Fenris: That's... something.

───────

Varric: You know you still owe me five sovereigns, elf.
Fenris: I'm good for it.

(If Isabela did not leave the party)

Varric: So, you think you can win the coin from Isabela? Good luck with that.

(Otherwise)

Varric: Meaning you'll borrow it from Hawke, probably.

Varric: Coming to the Hanged Man for Wicked Grace later?
Fenris: Never miss it.

───────

(If Hawke romanced Fenris)

Varric: So...you and Hawke?
Fenris: What about us?

(If Hawke is female)

Varric: I want to make sure I get all the details right when I tell this story. Did you sweep her off her feet or was it the other way around?

(If Hawke is male)

Varric: I want to make sure I get all the details right when I tell this story. Did he sweep you off your feet? I'm assuming he did the sweeping. He's taller than you. Awkward, otherwise.

Fenris: I'm not telling you anything but this: There was no actual sweeping involved.
Varric: Every little bit helps, elf.

Varric and Isabela

Act 1

Varric: I shit you not, Rivaini, it was this big.
Isabela: There's no way. Impossible! I've had hundreds of those in my hands, and they're never that size.
Varric: Would I lie about something so critical?

(Next line is dependent on third party member)

Anders: I can't stand it anymore—what are you two talking about?
Aveline: I'm afraid to ask, but... what are you two going on about?
Carver: What is wrong with you two? Can't you ever have a conversation that isn't dirty?
Hawke: What are you two talking about?

Varric: We're discussing knives, of course. Well, daggers, technically. I never remember the difference.
Varric: Why? What did you think we were talking about?

───────

Varric: Rivaini, stop looking at my chest. My eyes are up here.
Isabela: But the chest hair...
Varric: Do you know how much I suffer under your gaze? I am a person, not an object!
Isabela: Uh, Varric?
Varric: (Laughs) Just shitting you.

───────

Varric: You know, Rivaini, you promised me you'd tell me how your ship wrecked.
Isabela: I was drunk. I thought the reefs around the Wounded Coast were made of candy.
Varric: Oh, come on.
Isabela: And a demon told me to do it. It bet me sixty sovereigns and a bottle of port.
Isabela: You're not the only one here who can bullshit, you know.

───────

Varric: I'll let you run your fingers through it, if you want.
Isabela: Your chest hair? My fingers? Oh, Varric, stop! You're making me quiver.
Varric: You know you want to.
Isabela: Oh, I do... I can't resist you. No woman can.
Varric: I know. It's a terrible burden.

───────

Act 2

Varric: Were you listening to that guy in the Hanged Man last night?
Isabela: "Your eyes are like bumblebees, flying into the window of my soul." (Laughs)
Varric: My favorite was, "Your lips are like the wings of sparrows. Red ones. With no feathers."
Isabela: "Oh, speak! And send the plucked wings of your lips soaring."
Varric: I'd buy the guy a drink, but I don't think he needs one.

───────

Varric: You have got to tell me what was in that box, Rivaini.
Isabela: Which box? I've opened so many...
Varric: Well, those too. But later. Right now: that Qunari relic.
Isabela: I'll make you a deal: I'll tell you what was in that box if you tell me how Bianca got her name.
Varric: Fine, forget I asked. Evil woman.

───────

Isabela: Come to me, and I'll take you to places you've never been...
Varric: Isabela... Are you talking to Bianca?
Isabela: I think she deserves to feel a woman's touch on her trigger, don't you?
Varric: Bianca responds to my touch. She'd never give it up for you.
Isabela: That's what they always say, and I always prove them wrong.
Varric: Stop it. You're confusing her. And me.

───────

(If you complete The Long Road)

Isabela: Psst. I've got some of it written down now.
Varric: Give it here.
Varric: "Her breasts strained against the leather jerkin like two wild stallions corralled against their will." (Chuckles)
Varric: "She pounced—the smooth moves of a jungle cat—and locked her thighs around Donnic's waist. He—"

(If Aveline is in the party)

Aveline: What?
Isabela: Nothing.
Aveline: What is that?
Isabela: Shh! (Giggles)
Varric: Isabela just thought she'd celebrate your love affair with a... written dedication.
Isabela: It's "friend-fiction!" I do it out of love.
Aveline: I will never, ever be clean again.

(If not)

Isabela: Maybe you should read the rest of it in private.
Varric: I think that's best.

───────

Act 3

Isabela: Varric, how does one get made a Paragon?
Varric: The Assembly votes on it. Enough votes, and—BAM!—you're a living God!
Isabela: You should ask to be made a Paragon. Of manliness.
Varric: I like the way you think, Rivaini, but one doesn't just ask to be made a Paragon.
Isabela: Why not? Everyone can see you're a paragon of manliness. It's just a matter of making it official.

───────

Varric: After all this, the life of a pirate is going to be dull, isn't it?
Isabela: I know! I'll have to steal myself another Qunari relic.
Varric: The scary thing is, I don't know if you're joking!
Isabela: Of course I'm joking. I'm not getting involved with those people again.
Isabela: No... this time, I'll steal the Queen of Antiva. There's no way that could go wrong.

───────

(If Hawke romances Merrill)

Varric: So, Hawke and Daisy.
Isabela: I think they're darling together.

(If Hawke previously slept with Isabela)

Varric: Really? You're not at all jealous? Because I thought you and Hawke...
Isabela: Hawke was just a dalliance. You know I've still got my eye on you.
Varric: Keep dreaming, Rivaini.

(Otherwise)

Varric: It's almost too adorable. Well, except for the evil blood magic thing.
Isabela: The most evil thing Merrill does most days is pick the flowers out of other people's gardens.
Varric: I know, I have to bribe most of the gardeners in Hightown to keep it quiet.

───────

(During The Last Straw after choosing sides)

Varric: Just curious, does any of this make sense to you?
Isabela: What? This whole "everyone's waiting for the world to end" thing?
Varric: That, yes.
Isabela: Not remotely.
Varric: Good. It's not just me, then.

Varric and Merrill

Act 1

Merrill: I've never met a dwarf before.
Varric: That's because you spend too much time frolicking in the woods, Daisy. Dwarves don't frolic.
Merrill: Dalish don't really frolic, either. Not in the woods anyway.
Varric: You have sanctioned frolicking areas?
Merrill: No, just not in the woods. The trees get jealous.
Varric: But you do frolic?
Merrill: Of course we do! We wouldn't be elves, otherwise.

───────

Merrill: You remind me of Hahren Paivel, Varric. Only younger. And shorter. And not as serious.
Varric: So it's a close resemblance, then.
Merrill: Well, he tells stories. And you tell stories. Although none of his begin, "No shit, there I was."
Varric: I'll have to give him some better stories, then.

───────

(After you speak to Merrill in her home for the first time)

Merrill: Thank you very much for the help earlier, Varric!
Varric: You made it back to the Alienage in one piece, then?
Merrill: I don't know how I wound up in Darktown. There are just too many corners in Kirkwall.
Varric: Still got that ball of twine?
Merrill: I left it at my house. Don't worry! I won't get lost while we're following Hawke.
Varric: Bring it next time, Daisy. Just in case.

───────

Varric: Daisy, for my sake, please quit cutting through the alleys in Lowtown alone at night.
Merrill: Nothing ever happens. I'm perfectly safe, Varric.
Varric: Yes, I know. And that nothing is costing me a fortune.

───────

Act 2

Varric: So, I hear you've been visiting the viscount's garden, Daisy.
Merrill: They're enormous! And they're always empty. Why don't more people go to see them?
Varric: Probably because they're private and surrounded by guards.
Merrill: I thought all those men looked a bit cross.

───────

Merrill: Bianca is a very pretty name.
Varric: I'll tell her you said so, Daisy.
Merrill: She can't actually hear you, can she?
Varric: Of course she can. What kind of a question is that?
Merrill: Wait, are we talking about your crossbow or something else now?

───────

(If you complete Family Matter)

Merrill: I'm sorry about your brother, Varric. Have you any other family?
Varric: (Snorts) I have family like a rat has fleas, Daisy.
Merrill: Does that mean you have a lot of family, or that they make you itch a lot?
Varric: Both.

(Alternatively)

Varric: I'm sure any priest who would pray for Bartrand would burst into flames.
Merrill: Oh, I didn't know priesthood was so dangerous.
Varric: Don't worry Daisy, the chantry keeps a lot of water on hand.

───────

(If you complete Mirror Image)

Varric: Why a mirror?
Merrill: I don't understand the question.
Varric: If your people were going to make a magical whatever for talking to each other, why choose a mirror?
Varric: Do elves spend a lot of time talking to their own reflections?
Merrill: I suppose the ancient elves would have felt silly talking to a wardrobe or an urn.

───────

Act 3

Merrill: You should have this back.
Varric: Twine? When did I loan you a ball of twine?
Merrill: You gave it to me when I first moved here when I kept getting lost in Lowtown.
Merrill: It drove the merchants in the market completely batty, but it did help me find my way.
Varric: Keep it, Daisy.
Merrill: I don't think I'll be getting lost again anytime soon.
Varric: You never know. You might need to tie a package up, hang a lantern, dress a roast chicken. It's multipurpose.

───────

Merrill: Is there a story behind Bianca?
Varric: There's a story behind everything, Daisy.
Merrill: So tell me!
Varric: I can't.
Merrill: Why not?
Varric: There was a girl, and I made a promise. Bianca is the only story I can never tell.
Merrill: You can't say that! Now I want to know even more!
Varric: That was the idea, Daisy.

───────

(During A New Path)

Varric: Does anybody else get the feeling that this is going to end badly? Just me huh?
Merrill: It's not all bad Varric, think of the stories you'll be able to tell later.
Varric: No offense Daisy, but I could live without telling anyone that we murdered you on some mountain side, it's little hard to made that one sound good.

───────

(During A New Path)

Varric: Who thought putting a demon in a cave on Sundermount was a good idea in the first place?
Merrill: Where would you have put him?
Varric: Tevinter maybe? Or in the Anderfels? Further away from Kirkwall that's for sure.

───────

Merrill: How do you do it, living in the city without picking a side? Doesn't it matter to you?
Varric: Of course it does. That's why I don't take sides.
Merrill: That doesn't make any sense.
Varric: I've got you and Aveline, Fenris and Anders. Hawke. Isabela.
Varric: I've got friends in the Circle and drinking buddies in the templars. All of them matter.
Merrill: But you're going to fight. If it comes to that, I mean.
Varric: I fought my own brother, Daisy. Nobody said this was going to be happy story.

───────

(During The Last Straw)

Merrill: Varric, how does the story end?
Varric: Which story, Daisy?
Merrill: The big one. With us and Hawke, the mages and templars. Everything.
Varric: You want to know before it happens? You're not worried about spoiling the surprise?
Merrill: I might not see it end.
Varric: You have to stick with us if you want to find out how it turns out, Daisy.

Varric and Sebastian

Act 2

Sebastian: It's been very exciting working with Hawke.
Varric: Are you for real?
Sebastian:
- (If Hawke is male) It seems like he's involved every time there's a crisis in Kirkwall.
- (If Hawke is female) It seems like she's involved every time something goes wrong in Kirkwall.
Sebastian: I've never had so many opportunities to help people!
Varric: All right. I thought I was getting tired of moody. I take it back.
Varric: You're making my teeth ache.

───────

Varric: So, Choir Boy, this usurper of yours is... twenty feet tall?
Sebastian: Not even close, no.
Varric: But he has claws for hands, right?
Sebastian: Fingers. Perfectly normal ones. If a little fat, perhaps.
Varric: He eats babies, though. And farts fire.
Sebastian: You're not serious, I hope.
Varric: You can't even pretend to be interesting, can you?

───────

Sebastian: You must forgive your brother.
Varric: While you were off playing prince, Bartrand trapped us in the Deep Roads and left us to die.
Sebastian: When you hold onto anger, it colors everything you do.
Sebastian: You escaped the Deep Roads. You built a life without your brother. Do you still want him haunting you?
Varric: Oh, go find some beggars to sing to, will you?

───────

Varric: Tell us about Starkhaven, Choir Boy. I'm sure we're all burning with curiosity about your far-away land.
Sebastian: "My far-away land?" It's inland Free Marches, not on the moon.
Varric: And here I was hoping...
Sebastian: It's a lot like here. But fewer dead people.
Varric: Well, you don't have Hawke.

───────

Act 3

Varric: I've heard rumors about Starkhaven, you know.
Varric: They say you eat the dead up there. And murder strangers in the street.
Sebastian: Why do I suspect that when you say you've "heard" rumors, you mean you've invented some?
Varric: Six of one, half-dozen of another.

───────

Varric: You know, Choir Boy, I wouldn't normally say this, but—the shiny white armor? It works for you.
Sebastian: That's uncharacteristically kind of you, Varric.
Varric: Makes you look like a lacquered pilot whale.
Sebastian: Ah, now that was much more in-character.

───────

Sebastian: You know, if you have time, I could give you a few archery pointers.
Varric: Excuse me?
Sebastian: Sometimes your shots veer a little left, I thought maybe your cocking ring was off.
Sebastian: I could take a look if you like.
Varric: You want to touch Bianca's cocking ring?
Sebastian: It was just a thought.

───────

Varric: So, I've known you for three years now. I give up. You beat me. What is it?
Varric: You like boys? Sheep? You slept with your sister?
Sebastian: What are you talking about?
Varric: What are you hiding? Nobody's this bloody clean.
Varric: After you leave the chantry you... get drunk at the Hanged Man and walk around in women's clothes?

(If Isabela is in the party)

Isabela: Not that I've seen. Unfortunately.
Sebastian: I've been honest with you and Hawke.
Varric: Liar.
Sebastian: Lying is a sin.

Legacy

Varric's remarks

(If in Act 1) "This is great! Now I can tell Bartrand you're an experienced Deep Roads explorer!"
(If in Act 3) "I hope you told Bodahn where you were going. If you never come back, maybe someone will send a search party after their Champion."
(Approaching the first corpse of a Legionnaire in the Tower Base) "That looks like Legion of the Dead armour. It's an Orzammar thing. No matter your crime if you join the Legion and vow to die fighting darkspawn, your name is cleared."
(If Anders is in the party) "I had a friend from the Legion once. A girl named Sigrun. Not nearly as dour as you'd expect."
(After reading the First Legionnaire's journal) "The Legion of the Dead...sent after Paragon Garen's heir. Why does that sound familiar? I think Garen was some time in the early Exalted Age... hundreds of years ago."
(After Hawke says the funeral rite to Tethras Garen) "That was sweet Hawke. Now let's get out of here before you see me cry.
(After speaking with Larius or Janeka) "So does anyone else feel like we're walking into a trap? Just me? Good to know."
(While Hawke is breaking the seals) "Maybe we should prepare for, I don't know, the end of the world? Just in case?"

───────

(Reacting to Anders' hearing voices)

"Come on, Blondie. You're strong enough to overcome this."
"Hang in there, Blondie! We're going to get you out of this!"

───────

(In battle with Corypheus)

"Keep clear of the flames! Sometimes I hate having short legs!"
"Pay attention, Hawke. I really don't want this story to end "And then they all got splattered.""
"I was just thinking, "What's missing here?" A giant storm, of course!"
"If he pulls a dragon out of his ass, I'm leaving!"

Varric and Hawke

Hawke: Varric, I've heard... stories of a personal nature being spread around town.

(If Act 3, otherwise depending on friendship/rivalry)

Varric: You're the Champion of Kirkwall. People pay attention to everything you do. And everyone.

(Friendship)

Varric: And you want me to set the record straight? I'm honored.

(Rivalry)

Varric: If you want your private life to stay, uh, private, maybe don't sleep with half of Kirkwall.

(If romancing Anders)

Varric: As it happens, I haven't said a word about you and Blondie. I'd look at that, uh, uncle of yours for this particular rumor.
Anders: I'm right here, you know. Should I stick my fingers in my ears until you're done?

(If romancing Fenris)

Varric: I haven't told anyone about you and that, uh, angsty Tevinter elf. Try looking closer to home for that intelligence leak.
Fenris: Angsty Tevinter Elf?
Varric: What can I say? I strive for accuracy.

(If romancing Isabela)

Varric: I'm not spreading any tales about you and the Rivaini. Although she asks me every other week to start some.
Isabela: It would make a great new serial. Much better than that guard one you've been writing.

(If romancing Merrill)

Varric: I haven't breathed a word to anyone about you and Daisy. Maybe you better have a talk with uh, uncle greasy?
Hawke: Gamlen.

───────

Hawke: Someday I'll visit a place with no ancient evils, horrors, devouring plagues, or insanity.
Hawke: Maybe a beach.
Isabela: I can recommend a few, if you'd like.
Hawke: Please do.

(If Varric is in the party)

Varric: The day you go to the beach is the day an armada of angry demon pirates show up.
Hawke: I've got a bad feeling all of a sudden.

───────

Hawke: When you tell people about our escape from Lothering, why do you make it seem like I have food all over my face?
Varric: You're larger than life, Hawke. I had to give you a few flaws just to make you approachable.
Hawke: Did you call me fat?
Varric: Yes, that's pretty much how I tell it. "Hawke rolled into the fray like a gigantic pudding, covered in gravy." It's more dramatic that way.

(If Hawke has a diplomatic/helpful personality)

Hawke: I'm not sure about the epicness of this tale.

(If Hawke has a humorous/charming personality)

Hawke: Does it have to be gravy? Couldn't it be chocolate instead?

(If Hawke has an aggressive/direct personality)

Hawke: I hope the story ends, "And then Hawke backhanded the mouthy dwarf."
Varric: Everyone's a critic.

───────

Hawke: I'd like to know who this "Corypheus" is. With a name like that, I know he's bound to go "Muahaha" at some point, I just know it. And really? More blood? Why can't it ever be spit or a lock of hair?
Varric: You really want to encounter a spit mage?
Hawke: For variety, sure.

(If Carver is in the party and in a friendship)

Carver: You worry me, you know that?

(Rivalry)

Carver: Oh, shut up.

───────

Hawke: I heard you're being fixed up with one of the Helmi daughters.
Varric: Thanks Hawke. I've been trying to forget about that all week.
Hawke: So... not love at first sight?
Varric: Dusana Helmi is easy on the eyes. Also, she's tried to kill me five times this year.
Hawke: Did she try again during the date?
Varric: She waited until I paid for dinner. She's in the Merchant's Guild, Hawke.
Hawke: So, you're not going to see her again?
Varric: No. And I might leave town for a while just to make sure.
Hawke: Being the most eligible bachelor in the Merchant Guild is perilous indeed.
Varric: I'm going to need more aliases.

───────

Hawke: I'm surprised you agreed to come, Varric. You hate being underground and you avoid the Carta the same way you do the Merchant Guild.
Varric: There's no way I'd miss watching you make these motherless nug-lickers cry. If you wanna punch a few stalagmites on the way there, that's good too.

───────

(Upon reaching the Final Seal)

Varric: Oh, that's nice.
Hawke: What's so nice about it?
Varric: I was just wondering what some place sinister and foreboding would look like, and here it is.

Varric and Anders

Anders: More Deep Roads. Why did we agree to do this again?

(If Hawke is in a romance with Anders)

Varric: Because I like trouble, and you think Hawke is cute. That wasn't a serious question, was it, Blondie?
Anders: He/she is pretty cute.

(Otherwise)

Varric: This isn't so bad, Blondie. You could be losing more coin to the elf in a game of Wicked Grace.
Anders: (Groans) At this rate, I'll still be paying him back when I'm dead.

───────

Anders: How's this going to fit into your grand tale, Varric? "Hawke and friends walked for a really long time in nasty tunnels that smelled like nug shit."
Varric: Well, I'd probably say something like... "Then around the corner, we caught the sight of an entirely new type of darkspawn." You had to ask, Blondie.

Varric and Aveline

Aveline: Did you know anything about this Carta, Varric?
Varric: Not my crowd. Unsubtle. Kind of fuzzy in their business plan... uh, I assume.
Aveline: You keep secrets and people die.
Varric: You keep kicking random beehives and you'll get stung.
Aveline: What's that supposed to mean?
Varric: No keeper, no bees, no honey. I like honey.
Aveline: Damn it, dwarf.

───────

Aveline: All right, tell me. How does it end?
Varric: Beg your pardon?
Aveline: That guard story of yours. The... the one with a guardsman who falls in love with a templar knight-captain.
Varric: Oh, the romance! Swords and Shields. I just started that serial. It's got ten chapters to go.
Aveline: Yes, but you know how it ends! Just tell me.
Varric: I've got an idea, but the story... the story will go where it wants to go. The characters drive it, not me.
Aveline: You're the author! That makes no sense at all!
Varric: A good story, you don't really write. It was always there. You just uncover it.

───────

(Upon seeing the Power Nexus Puzzle)

Varric: Ugh, why does it always have to be so complicated? Can't Aveline just bash through the wall?
Aveline: Very funny, Varric.

───────

Varric: We passed another broken pillar. You know what that means.

(If Isabela is in the party)

Isabela: Everybody take a drink!

(If Anders is in the party)

Anders: The last time we played this game, I kissed an ogre. Please let's not go there again.

(If Aveline is in the party)

Aveline: Didn't the last game end with Isabela getting Orlesian with a lyrium vein?
Varric: Yep!
Aveline: Carry on then.

Varric and Bethany

(During Act 1)

Varric: Sunshine? What's wrong? Not feeling well?
Bethany: I'm fine, Varric. Just... I expected... templars, or blackmail. I never thought our home would come under attack.
Varric: Good. Keep thinking that way. It's got to be nice to think of some place as safe.

───────

(If Bethany in the Circle)

Varric: Good to be out and about Sunshine?
Bethany: It's exciting, I'll say that. How much does someone want me dead to attack me in the Gallows?
Varric: A Hawke attracting obsessives with a poor grasp of consequence? Colour me stunned.
Bethany: (Laughs) Be serious!
Varric: Sorry, I have a reputation to maintain.

───────

(If Bethany is a Grey Warden)

Varric: You're not looking so sunny, Sunshine.
Bethany: It's not how I wanted to come back. If I did at all.
Varric: Now, maybe the old place didn't roll out the welcome, but it's still home, right?
Bethany: I've spent more time as a Warden than I did in Kirkwall.
Varric: It ain't the buildings I'm talking about. It's good to see you.
Bethany: Thank you.

Varric and Carver

(During Act 1)

Varric: What's the matter Junior? Three assassination attempts! You're the centre of attention! I thought you'd be happier.
Carver: They were trying to lure my brother into a trap, that's all.
Varric: It's a start. Keep at it and pretty soon, you'll get some thugs of your very own.

───────

(If Carver is a templar)

Varric: I'll bet the Knight-Commander was thrilled one of her templars was attacked in the Gallows.
Carver: Ecstatic.
Varric: Did she make you clean up the mess?
Carver: We hired some dwarves. Proper ones, with swabbing beards.
Varric: Good to know the Paragons have steady work.

───────

(If Carver is a Grey Warden)

Varric: You've been away too long, Junior.
Carver: Running short of fodder for your stories?
Varric: Do you know another lovable lug with more sword than sense?
Carver: I've seen things far more threatening than your verse, my friend. Do your worst.
Varric: So be it. We shall meet in battle when properly drunk. And safe from darkspawn, blah blah blah.

Varric and Fenris

Fenris: Now this is unexpected. I thought all dwarves did was drink.
Varric: Hey now!
Fenris: And lie. Pardon the omission.
Varric: That's better.

───────

(If Varric is not in the party)

Fenris: Now this is unexpected. I thought all dwarves did was drink.
Hawke: And Varric not here to respond, tsk tsk tsk.
Fenris: He's probably drinking.

───────

Varric: You, elf, are one lucky son-of-a-bitch.
Fenris: Is this about the diamondback game? Again?
Varric: I've never seen anyone bluff like that in my life! I was sure you had a hand full of nothing.
Fenris: So was I. You're the one who pointed out I had four serpents.
Varric: See? Luckiest bastard I've ever seen.

───────

Fenris: So, Varric, this "spy network" of yours...
Varric: Oh, this I have to hear.
Fenris: You don't have one, do you? You make it all up.
Varric: Could be. That, or I have an army of elven urchins, and they're all watching.
Fenris: You are a strange, hairy little man.

───────

(If neither Isabela or Fenris are in a romance with Hawke)

Varric: So, elf, what's this I've been hearing about you and the Rivaini?
Fenris: None of your business, dwarf.
Varric: Just be careful. I get the impression that Isabela's breakups turn into bloodbaths.
Isabela: That's part of the fun.

───────

Fenris: A dwarven prison?
Varric: Dwarves don't do prisons, elf. This is a trash heap. They threw something away here and hoped it wouldn't come back.

───────

Fenris: Clearly these dwarves are insane. Perhaps even more so than Varric.
Varric: I heard that.

Varric and Isabela

Varric: We passed another broken pillar. You know what that means.

(If Isabela is in the party)

Isabela: Everybody take a drink!

(If Anders is in the party)

Anders: The last time we played this game, I kissed an ogre. Please let's not go there again.

(If Aveline is in the party)

Aveline: Didn't the last game end with Isabela getting Orlesian with a lyrium vein?
Varric: Yep!
Aveline: Carry on then.

───────

Isabela: You've a nickname for everyone.
Varric: That's true. Rivaini.
Isabela: But everyone just calls you Varric. That's hardly fair.
Varric: Well, it's my story.
Isabela: What?
Varric: Nothing.

───────

(Approaching the abandoned quarry in the Vimmark Wasteland)

Isabela: Dwarves are funny. Look at them scurrying away on their stumpy little legs.
Varric: I heard that.
Isabela: It's cute when you do it.
Varric: Well, it's my story.

Varric and Merrill

Merrill: Do your stories ever have griffons in them?
Varric: Kind of tricky because they're extinct. You can work a griffon attack into a town but it takes skill.
Merrill: I was thinking more like... heroic griffons. The sort that swoop in and save the day.
Varric: Daisy, haven't you heard? Swooping is bad.
Merrill: Oh.
Varric: I could do heroic charging, though. You want me to call him "Feathers"?
Merrill: Yes! And make him extra fluffy!

───────

Merrill: Am I in your stories Varric?
Varric: Daisy, everyone is fair game for my stories.
Merrill: I never hear any stories with me in them! What sorts of things do I do?
Varric: Well, you get lost a lot. You wind up in the middle of a dog racing track in Darktown. Or in the viscount's bathing room.
Merrill: So they're true stories?
Varric: Daisy, I could never make that stuff up. Nobody would believe it.

Varric and Sebastian

Varric: Choir boy! What are you doing?
Sebastian: Nothing! Nothing!
Varric: Are you trying to peek at my notes?
Sebastian: I've... heard some strange rumours about a "belt buckle of righteousness."
Varric: Did you hear the part about how it tells the future of your pants, or how it burns its expression into the faces of sinners? The pants one is my favourite. Has more pathos.

───────

Sebastian: We don't have many dwarves in Starkhaven. Is the Carta part of the Merchants' Guild?
Varric: Are you kidding? The Carta's only the worst gang of thugs in Orzammar. Their main trades are lyrium smuggling, gambling and murder for hire.
Sebastian: I'm sorry. I didn't know—
Varric: So, yes. Basically, just like the Guild.

Mark of the Assassin

Varric's remarks

(After meeting Tallis) "The lady knows how to make an entrance."
(When clicked on a friendship path) "Why is it you never take me anywhere nice?"
(When clicked on a rivalry path) "You just can't keep out of trouble, can you?"
(When clicked) "I'm sure you're eager to punch something, Hawke, but don't look at me."
(About the three statues in the Dungeons) "And this array of sculptures is known as "Scurvy Bastards Reflecting on Modern Life." After much reflection, they appear to have come to the conclusion, "Well, shit.""
(When clicked, during the wyvern hunt) "Are we actually supposed to catch one of these things or just look fashionable doing it? I never can tell with Orlesians."
(When clicked after leaving the Dungeons, if you help Tallis) "Nobody is going to believe this story later."

Varric and Hawke

Hawke: Who in the blazes is that?
Varric: Don't know! Kill people, then ask!
Tallis: Good plan!

───────

(After the ambush in Hightown)

Varric: So, that meeting with Edge?
Hawke: The one that turned into an ambush just now?
Varric: I changed my mind. Let's not go.

───────

Hawke: What makes you think I steal things because people ask me to?

(If Isabela is in the party)

Isabela: Well I would.

(If Aveline is also in the party)

Aveline: (Scoffs) What don't you do?

(If Fenris is in the party)

Fenris: That's our Isabela. Such a giver.

Varric: I may have talked you up a bit. Maybe more than once.

(If Hawke has a diplomatic/helpful personality)

Hawke: Oh Varric.

(If Hawke has a humorous/charming personality)

Hawke: Wonderful.

(If Hawke is a mage)

Varric: What? You'd rather I told everyone you were a mage?

───────

Hawke: Varric.
Varric: You called?
Hawke: I notice you don't have a nickname for me.
Varric: I call you Hawke. You've probably heard it once or twice.
Hawke: But that's my name. It's not like Daisy or Blondie.

(If Hawke has a diplomatic/helpful personality)

Varric: All right, Waffles. You really want a nickname, I can hook you up.
Hawke: Waffles? That's... unexpected.

(If Hawke has a humorous/charming personality)

Varric: Sure, Chuckles. You want a nickname, I'll be happy to fix you up.
Hawke: Chuckles? That works.

(If Hawke has an aggressive/direct personality)

Varric: If you really want a nickname, I can oblige. I'm thinking about going with Killer.
Hawke: How creative.

───────

Varric: Watch it. Ghast hole.
Hawke: A what hole?
Varric: A scholar might call it something else, but they don't know their ghasts from a hole in the ground.

(If Anders is in the party)

Anders: And they say I'm the monster.

(If Aveline is in the party)

Aveline: I'm going to hit him. I'll do it.

(If Bethany is in the party)

Bethany: Oh, for the love of...

(If Carver is in the party)

Carver: (Laughs)

(If Fenris is in the party)

Fenris: That one actually hurt.

(If Isabela is in the party)

Isabela: (Snickers)

(Else)

Hawke: Why do you bad-touch words like that?

───────

Hawke: I've always meant to ask, Varric, when we met in the Merchant Guild, you seemed to be waiting for me.
Varric: That's a statement, Hawke. What's your question?
Hawke: Were you waiting for me?
Varric: Actually, I meant to catch you before you saw Bartrand.
Hawke: But you knew I'd be there.
Varric: Maybe I wasn't obvious about this already, but finding out things I'm not supposed to know is pretty much what I do.

Varric and Anders

Anders: Couldn't you talk to Gallard for me? He likes you.
Varric: I told you not to play that last hand.
Anders: Yes, but I did it anyway, and now the Coterie has an IOU for my right ear.
Varric: Gallard won't collect on that. He's got enough ears of his own.
Anders: You didn't hear him admiring mine all night. And saying that he's always wanted a hat made of human ears. And calling a hatter.
Varric: Look on the bright side, losing your ear will add to your tortured look. Some women really like that.

───────

Anders: Orlesian.
Varric: Fop. Um... Party.
Anders: Crash.
Varric: Seriously, Blondie? No one ever invites you anywhere?
Anders: I've spent most of my life with the Circle, Grey Wardens, or refugees. Not party people, most of them.
Anders: So... templar.
Varric: Argh! Anders is talking about templars again! Does that count as one word?

(Alternate; after Dissent)

Anders: Would you?
Varric: Good point.
Anders: So... templar.
Varric: Argh! Anders is talking about templars again! Does that count as one word?

───────

(While trying to find Hawke and Tallis)

Varric: Blondie, I hate to say this, but I'm pretty sure we've been here before.
Anders: Blast it! But we went left this time! We shouldn't have come full circle again!
Varric: I wish I hadn't given that ball of twine to Daisy.
Anders: You can't tell anyone about this! I mean it, Varric! Not a word!

Varric and Aveline

Varric: Should have come to the Hanged Man last week. You missed Brennan drunk off her ass, reciting love poems to Corff.
Aveline: She did not!
Varric: Four hours she spent clinging to the bar, shouting sonnets at the poor man.
Aveline: Ugh, a guardsman's poetry. That's assault, that is.
Varric: Keep an eye on her. I think she's in possession of a few concealed dirty limericks, too.

───────

Aveline: Are these sort of people who buy that drivel you write?
Varric: Can you blame them? Shut up in their dreary castles, surrounded by other stuffy nobles who only talk about money and politics...
Varric: How could they not long for the cold days and hot nights of a fiery, passionate guardswoman?
Aveline: I prefer my tales a little more grounded. Less of the "giant sword and heaving bosom" variety.

───────

(While looking for Hawke and Tallis)

Aveline: We've been going in circles for over an hour.
Varric: I'm so used to Hawke leading the way, I think my sense of direction has withered.
Varric:
- (if Hawke is male) So... wait for him to rescue us?
- (if Hawke is female) So... wait here for her to rescue us?
Aveline: When you tell this part? Leave it out.

Varric and Bethany

Varric: What's the matter, Sunshine? Thought you'd be enjoying the whole "fancy Orlesian estate" thing more.

(If Bethany is a Circle Mage)

Bethany: I can't believe I wore this to the chateau! Maker, what was I thinking?
Varric: That it's the uniform of the Circle and you could make a burlap sack look good?
Bethany: It's hardly the height of fashion.
Varric: You would kill these people if you wore the height of fashion.
Bethany: I suppose one must be merciful.

(If Bethany is a Grey Warden)

Bethany: I used to want this, you know?
Varric: Still do. I can tell.
Bethany: But it's far, far less likely to happen.
Varric: Since when does "want" give two squirts about "likely?" Enjoy it.
Bethany: "Two squirts," Varric?
Varric: Ah, all this grandeur has me eloquented out.

Varric and Carver

(During Act 1)

Carver: How do you put up with Bartrand? He's the most arrogant horse's ass I've ever met.
Varric: It's not that hard, Junior. He's my brother.
Carver: Don't start with that "unconditional love" rubbish.
Varric: Forget family ties: I have blackmail material forever. At any point, I can launch into the story of how he peed himself at a grand ball.
Carver: Yeah, all right, I'd pay to hear that.

───────

(During Act 2 or Act 3)

Carver: Still playing the innocent while picking every purse in sight?
Varric: Still... actually, you're doing all right.
Carver: Thought I was. I suppose it's the same for you, really.
Varric: 'Tis true, 'tis true. (Sighs)
Carver: It's more fun hating each other, isn't it.
Varric: Absolutely.

───────

(While looking for Hawke and Tallis. If Carver is a Grey Warden)

Carver: So, we're lost.
Varric: Just like old times.
Carver: Maker, I hope not. I was an ass.
Varric: (Laughs) Fair comment, Junior. All right, let's get this done.

Varric and Fenris

(While trying to find Hawke and Tallis)

Fenris: And...here we are again. For the fourth time.
Varric: Fifth, I think.
Fenris: What do we do now?
Varric: Play Diamondback and wait for Hawke to find us?

Note: Unlike most scenes that end with the two companions running away, this one merely fades out after Varric's line.

───────

Fenris: You know, I saw a crossbow just like Bianca in the market the other day.
Varric: What? Why didn't you tell me?
Fenris: You... already have a crossbow.
Varric: I don't want to replace her, but... she could use a friend. Someone to sit on the mantle with.
Fenris: Right.
Varric: Don't listen to him, Bianca. You deserve happiness, just like anyone else.

───────

(After Tallis' identity is revealed)

Varric: How did you learn to speak Qunari?
Tallis: I wouldn't call what he does "speaking Qunari."
Fenris: I picked it up by listening to them.
Varric: That's the part I don't get. I've almost never heard Qunari talking to each other. They just stand around and glower.
Fenris: That's because they know you're watching. When there's no foreigners around, they gossip and complain just like anyone.
Tallis: Sometimes more. The antaam has made grousing a sport.

Varric and Isabela

Varric: Our little Hawke is growing up, Rivaini.

(If Hawke is female)

Isabela: Burglary and espionage! We should've hired a painter to get her portrait so we can remember this day forever!
Varric: Next thing you know, she'll be conning guards and cutting purses without us. Where does the time go?

(If Hawke is male)

Isabela: I know! Burglary and espionage! I'm so proud of him right now, I could burst!
Varric: Soon, he'll be sharking card games and swindling merchants all on his own! Brings a tear to my eye!

(If Hawke has a diplomatic/helpful personality)

Hawke: Don't get carried away.
Isabela: Carried away? Us? Perish the thought!
Varric: We are the very souls of moderation, Hawke. You know that.

(If Hawke has a humorous/charming personality)

Hawke: Everything I know about being a scoundrel, I learned from you two.
Isabela: I think I'm going to cry. Look at me! I'm getting misty-eyed!

(If Hawke has an aggressive/direct personality)

Hawke: I can hear you, you know.
Isabela: Still a grouch, though. So much to teach, so little time...

───────

Isabela: So I hear there was very little dancing at the party. Not a flounce or a pirouette in sight.
Varric: Didn't think you'd show interest in any dance that doesn't end with someone's guts on the floor.
Isabela: All women like dancing. Just ask Bianca.
Varric: Bianca isn't interested in any dance that doesn't end with someone's guts on the floor.
Isabela: Oh. Right.

───────

(While looking for Hawke and Tallis)

Isabela: I give up! We've been through every inch of this place twice, and there's no sign of them!
Varric: Or we've been through the same twenty feet of this place about a dozen times. It's hard to tell, Rivaini.
Isabela: We should have gone treasure-hunting in Wildervale instead.
Varric: You're still upset that you couldn't swipe a drink from the party, aren't you?

Varric and Merrill

Merrill: I know you're in the Merchants Guild, Varric, but I've never seen your shop.
Varric: We're not that kind of merchant, Daisy.
Merrill: What kind are you, then?
Varric: House Tethas invests in... you're not going to understand a word of this financial stuff, are you?
Merrill: Not a word, no. But I promise to pay close attention anyway!
Varric: Right. In that case, we have lots of shops. But they're invisible. Only dwarves and accountants can see them.

───────

Merrill: Tell me a story, Varric.
Varric: Right now? I don't think we have time, Daisy.
Merrill: Maybe a very short story, then? Please?
Varric: Fine. "When the cards turned, he lost."
Merrill: Oh. Did it have to be so sad?

Varric and Sebastian

Sebastian: Your Merchants Guild reminds me of the court at Starkhaven. Intrigue and gossip wrapped in a layer of formality.
Varric: If Starkhaven was a tenth as bad, I see why you took to the Chantry.
Sebastian: Fashion was the worst part. In the Chantry, I never have to worry whether doublets are meant to be fitted or padded this year.
Varric: In Starkhaven, do they bludgeon you to death for forgetting the name of a minor clerk's third daughter?
Sebastian: Only if you're lucky.
Varric: Choir Boy, suddenly your life makes much more sense to me.

───────

Sebastian: I'm surprised your parents never married you off, Varric.
Varric: I was still in diapers when my father died. I'm sure he was getting around to it.
Sebastian: And your brother never married either, right? Wasn't he concerned about continuing the Tethras line?
Varric: Your family's dead and you're still celibate, right?

(If Hawke is male)

Varric: Why don't you take care of that little quirk before you come bothering me.

(If Hawke is female)

Varric: Or has Hawke managed to talk you out of that?
Hawke: (Sighs) Not yet.
Varric: Pity.

───────

Sebastian: You know, we're not that different, Varric. There was a time when I spent my days drinking and gambling.
Varric: Was this before or after you got Andraste's face soldered to your pelvis?
Sebastian: During, actually. That's not the sort of thing a man does while he's sober. I'm just lucky it's a belt buckle and not a tattoo.

───────

(While looking for Hawke and Tallis)

Sebastian: When you tell people about this part of our adventure, what are you going to say?
Varric: That depends entirely on the audience, Choir Boy.
Sebastian: You change the story to suit the listener?
Varric:
- (if Hawke is male) Of course. All the bullshit in the world won't convince Hawke we rescued him if he finds us first.
- (if Hawke is female) No bullshit—however well-told—will persuade Hawke that we rescued her if she finds us first. That's common sense.

Varric and Tallis

(Entering Hunting Grounds - West for the first time)

Tallis: So these are the hunting grounds.
Varric: I take it we run around randomly shouting, "Here, wyvern wyvern wyvern!"

───────

(After some hunters make remarks about wyverns during the hunt)

Varric: You want to just stand back and watch? Should be good for a few laughs."
Tallis: Just ignore them.

───────

Tallis: Last name Tethras, right? I've heard of that clan.
Varric: Get out! Nobody's heard of Clan Tethras.
Tallis: My father owned a dwarven sword with a Clan Tethras rune on it.
Varric: Huh. Must have been Dusan. He was a smith. Tried to become Paragon, ended up poisoning himself.
Tallis: Really?
Varric: He was terrible at intrigue. Forgot which goblet he'd put the poison in. Wasn't finished gloating to his enemy when he keeled over.
Varric: I think the family always had a sense for terrible drama.

───────

(After Tallis' identity is revealed)

Varric: All right, Shivs, I'll admit it: I'm surprised the Qunari employ thieves. They never struck me as the subtle type.
Tallis: That's because you've only met the antaam. Armies aren't usually celebrated for their sneakiness. Also, "Shivs?"
Varric: Yes, "Shivs." So, how does stealing valuables from a pompous Orlesian noble fit in with your Qun?
Tallis: "The eyes don't own the light, the mouth does not own the breath." Things are just things to the Qun. They belong to everyone.
Varric: Even the Tome of Koslun? That was worth starting a war over.
Tallis: The Tome isn't a thing anymore. It's a soul, a purpose. Like Bianca, but with pages.

Dragon Age: Inquisition

Combat comments

Kills an enemy:

One more for me!
That had to hurt!
Eat dirt!

Low Health:

Varric and Blackwall

Blackwall: This guard captain from Kirkwall that you're friends with...
Varric: She's stronger than you.
Blackwall: Right. Just checking.
───────

───────

Blackwall: I once met a dwarf who made the best home-brewed ale.
Varric: I once met a Grey Warden who got possessed by a spirit and then blew up a chantry and killed a hundred people.
Varric: What makes people think you want to hear what others of "your kind" have done, anyway?
───────
Varric: So it was just you, alone in the vast wilderness?
Blackwall: What are you on about?
Varric: The lone wanderer, searching the world. What's he trying to find? Love? Absolution?
Blackwall: Try "someone with a strong arm and a stronger will to fight darkspawn."
Varric: Yes, but what does that represent?
Blackwall: Wanting to kill more darkspawn.
Varric: You're just like Sebastian.

───────

Varric: Let's talk about your dark and troubled past.
Blackwall: Excuse me?
Varric: Well you have one, of course. Someone dear to you? Someone you've failed to save? Or a grave error in judgment, causing too many deaths? I've known a couple of people like that. Ooh, maybe betrayal! That's always good.
Blackwall: No.
Varric: Well you've got to give me something.
Blackwall: No, I don't. This conversation is over.
Varric: Hm, touchy.

───────

Varric: You remind me of someone. Pious bastard, wore blinding white armour. Told me my shots veered left.
Blackwall: I can see how that describes me perfectly.
Varric: It's just... all that niceness. He was just so... nice.
Blackwall: Nice. Right. I take it you didn't like this person.
Varric: Sebastian would have taken that as compliment.

───────

Blackwall: Is it true that Kirkwall's Knight Commander became a... statue.
Varric: Absolutely true. She's still there, bringing an extra dose of horror to gallows tourists.
Blackwall: No one's moved it... I mean her?
Varric: And make it impossible for children to play "Who's Brave Enough to Poke Meredith?"
Blackwall: They don't actually do that, do they?
Varric: No. No one's brave enough to poke Meredith.

───────

Blackwall: I read some of your book. Riveting stuff. "Hard in Hightown", was it?
Varric: And you only read some?
Blackwall: Well I... uh, found it in a latrine in a village near churneau. It... was missing some pages.

───────

Blackwall: I've been to Kirkwall. The Hanged Man, actually, probably been twenty years now. It was a dive if I remember correctly.
Varric: It's the dive. Filled with the best and worst people in the world.
Blackwall: Yes, I heard it was a haunt of yours.
Varric: Haunt? It was home.

───────

Varric: Alright, Hero, what do we talk about?
Blackwall: What do you mean?
Varric: You don't want talk about yourself, I can respect that. So what do we talk about, then?
Blackwall: I don't suppose you follow jousting?
Varric: I'm a Free Marcher, remember? We invented jousting.
Blackwall: That's not actually true, you know,
Varric: It is! Before us, no one ever thought to push people off things with large sticks. Historical fact.
Blackwall: Alright. Greatest knight in history. My money's on Lady Honorine Chastaine. No one's ever come close to unhorsing more riders than her. I've seen her joust live, and I have to tell you, up close, she has magnificent... technique.
Varric: Her victory in the grand tourney of Tantervale is pretty legendary, but I'd have to go with Revata. Winning three consecutive grand tourneys! Who does that?
Varric: Hey, you know they're holding a grand tourney in Markham soon. I think we should all go. Inquisition road trip!
Blackwall: There's got to be... trouble or something up near Markham.
Inquisitor: No.
Varric: I'll talk to Josephine. I'll talk to Josephine, I bet she could pull some strings.

───────

Blackwall: Winning while barely clinging to your horse may count, but it's not exactly the stuff of legends, is it?
Varric: That depends entirely on who's writing the legend, Hero.
Blackwall: You can't really think Revata is a better knight than Honorine Chastaine? Her record's flawless. Four hundred jousts, never unseated, no one's ever come close to it.
Varric: Oh, she's easily the most skilled. That's a fact. It's just... scrappy is better than flawless. I like heroes who try their damnedest, even if they fail a lot. It's easy to be valiant when you always win and everything goes your way. There's nothing great in that.

───────

Blackwall: You are quite the artist with that bow, Varric.
Varric: Bianca does most of the work.
Blackwall: You have to aim her, precisely. I don't think I could do that.
Varric: Too attached to hitting things with your fists?
Blackwall: Exactly, and just being in the thick of it.
Varric: I'll stick with bows. I really like having my own teeth.

───────

Varric: Have a name for the sword?
Blackwall: Slasher? Gasher? Pokey?
Varric: Go with Pokey. You seem like a Pokey. You seem like a Pokey guy.

───────

Varric: How do you like being described? As "grizzled" or "masculine?"
Blackwall: Do I really have a choice?
Varric: No, I was just being polite. Going with "grizzled", then.

───────

Varric: Alright, worst thing you've ever eaten? I had this imported ham for Anderfels once. It tasted like despair, literally.
Blackwall: But you probably got to wash it down with an expensive wine. Mine was two year old hard tack. You can't scrape of the blue any more. You just try not to look.

───────

Blackwall: I've got one for you, Varric. Best tavern name you've ever seen. I'm torn between "The Bed and Bucket", and "The Bottom of the Barrel".
Varric: Ooh! That's a tough one. I think I have to go with "The Neighbour's House". For sheer balls.

───────

This section contains spoilers for:
Dragon Age: Inquisition.

After Blackwall is revealed to be Thom Rainier:

{{{2}}}

Varric: Maybe I've been to hard on you.
Blackwall: Oh, so you don't think I'm dreadful now.
Varric: Actually, I thought you were boring before. Completely different. We're all dreadful. Every one of us fundamentally flawed in a hundred different ways. That's why we're here, isn't it? Take all the risks, so the good people stay home where it's safe. With the whole "Blackwall" thing, you told a story so compelling even you started to believe it.
Blackwall: That's much nicer than saying "You're a dirty liar.", I'll take it.
Varric: A story-teller's got to believe his own story, or no one will.

───────

Varric: Cassandra still not speaking to you?
Blackwall: I don't know. It'll take time earn back her trust. If I ever do.
Varric: Well, she does hate it when people lie to her. At least she didn't stab you in the book.
Blackwall: Don't you mean "the back"?
Varric: No, I mean the book. Definitely the book.

───────

If neither Blackwall nor Josephine is romantically involved with the Inquisitor:

Varric: I know this is a radical suggestion, but have you considered just... talking to her?
Blackwall: No. Never occurred to me. End of story.

───────

Blackwall: So... Worst place you've ever been?
Varric: Well that would depend on whether or not I was there alone.
Blackwall: You're gonna make me talk to her, aren't you?
Varric: Just try "Hello"!

───────

Varric: So... Hero, you and Josephine...
Blackwall: No. No, you are not getting me into this conversation.
Varric: Oh, content to pine in silence, gazing at the dear ambassador from afar!
Blackwall: Can we talk about something else? Revasa! Revasa is the best, you were right!
Varric: I could help, you know. Nothing stirs the heart like a well-written word.
Blackwall: You're suggesting I woo the lady with someone else's words? You really want me on that path again?
Varric: Oh... yeah. Bad idea. Let's just forget I said anything.

Varric and Cassandra

Cassandra: I assume you heard about Prince Sebastian, Varric?
Varric: I know he invaded Kirkwall... Are you going to blame me for that too?
Cassandra: I wasn't trying to...
Varric: You weren't trying to remind me how bad it is in Kirkwall, so you decided to talk about it?
Cassandra: I thought you might be concerned. It is your home.
Varric: Of course I'm concerned. I don't need you prodding me with a stick to prove it.

───────

Cassandra: Have you heard from any of your Kirkwall associates Varric?
Varric: You're asking me? So you don't read my letters?
Cassandra: You're no longer my prisoner. Much as you like to act like it.
Varric: Yet I still get all the suspicion.
Cassandra: I am not without sympathy. Especially given recent events.
Varric: Why Seeker I will never accuse you of having sympathy! By the way I tend to refer to my "associates" as friends. Maybe you're not familiar with the concept.
Cassandra: (sigh)

───────

Varric: You know Seeker, for someone with your tact and charisma you assembled a... pretty good little Inquisition. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt and assuming you didn't drag them all here by force.
Cassandra: How kind of you.
Varric: I mean, you never know, you could kidnap Ruffles and she'd be too polite to say anything.
Cassandra: Leliana recruited Josephine. They're... friends.
Varric: So there's a rational explanation after all. Just when I thought you had layers.

───────

Varric: It makes sense that Leliana did the recruiting when the Inquisition started. Not everyone can be intimidated into signing up after all.
Cassandra: I recruited Commander Cullen.
Varric: Lucky him.
Cassandra: He has made no complaints about my manners.
Varric: His last boss was a raving lunatic who turned into a statue. That's not a high bar.

───────

Cassandra: Varric I'm sorry. About earlier. With the table.
Varric: Beg your pardon? I didn't catch that Seeker.
Cassandra: I am sorry.
Varric: Oh! I'll mark this on my calendar—Cassandra has a feeling!
Cassandra: Perhaps not that sorry.

───────

Cassandra: Varric, does Hawke ever autograph books?
Varric: Why? Doesn't your copy of the "Tale of the Champion" has a big hole in it?
Cassandra: Yes... but it could also have Hawke's signature on it.

───────

Cassandra: Hawke's taller than I imagined.
Varric: ...cough. That's the first thing you said to him isn't it?
Cassandra: Not the first thing.
Varric: Tell you what Seeker. Next time you make me tell a story at knife-point I'll make the hero sound taller.

───────

(After Guilty Pleasures)

Varric: Seriously? Swords and Shields? How did you find that serial? Scrape it off the bottom of a barrel in Dust town?
Cassandra: It was research! I thought I might learn more about the Champion.
Varric: I did write a book about the Champion. You might remember it. Had your knife stuck through it last I saw.
Cassandra: I already read that one. Twice.
Varric: I can't believe you picked the absolute worst of my books to read. Why not Hard in Hightown?
Cassandra: I have enough mysteries and investigations of my own.
Varric: What? You don't want to solve more in your free time?
Cassandra: Then, you killed my favorite character in Chapter 3, so I threw the book across the room.
Varric: (sigh) A critic. Say no more.

───────

Cassandra: Varric, how could you let the Knight-Captain be framed for murder?
Varric: Well I did spent three entire chapters setting it up.
Cassandra: But she didn't deserve it! You'd already put her through more than enough!
Varric: Look seeker, if you love a character, you give them pain, ruin their lives, make them suffer. Maybe even throw in a heroic death!
Cassandra: That makes no sense!
Varric: But you care enough to argue. If she has a nice afternoon and took a nap you'd stop reading.

───────

Cassandra: What made you write about Hawke? All your other books are complete fiction.
Varric: Someone had to set the record straight about the Champion.
Cassandra: Yet your book is still full of lies.
Varric: Ah but true ones! That's important!

───────

Cassandra: Why is the second "Hard in HIghtown" so completely different from the first?
Varric: (sigh) Because I didn't write it. Shit, did you pay actual coin for that book? One of these days, I'm gonna find the duster who wrote that garbage and introduce him to my editor.
Cassandra: By "editor", do you mean your crossbow?
Varric: No my actual editor! Best in the business. She runs after Coterie in Kirkwall, stickler for grammar. She'd want to kill the man over a semicolon. I'd never print anything without her.

───────

Cole: She has to reach the other side of the hill.
Cassandra: Who does?
Cole: The Knight-Captain. But she's injured.
Varric: (sigh) Good job, Kid.
Cassandra: Is she alright? Is that how the book ends?
Varric: Not anymore.
Cassandra: Cole, what happens to her?
Cole: ...I don't know. The hill went away.

───────

(If templars were recruited in Therinfal Redoubt)

Varric: I thought you'd have some, um.., "stronger feelings" about Templars joining the Inquisition, Seeker. Feelings that involve stabbing.
Cassandra: (sigh) Not all my feelings involve stabbing.
Varric: Oh... so you reserve those for me, then! Don't I feel special.

───────

(If Hawke survived Here Lies the Abyss)

Cassandra: I am somewhat surprised you didn't follow Hawke to Weisshaupt, Varric.
Varric: There's a lot of work to do, Seeker. We'll catch up once this is all over.

(If Hawke romanced Anders)

Cassandra: What about Anders? Will he...
Varric: If he's still out there, and Justice hasn't driven him nuts, Hawke won't be able to keep him away.

(If Hawke romanced Fenris)

Cassandra: What about Fenris? Will he...
Varric: Oh he'll go. Once he gets my letter and after he's finished brooding.

(If Hawke romanced Isabela)

Cassandra: What about Isabela? Will she...
Varric: Join him? Once she gets my letter she'll go whether Hawke likes it or not.

(If Carver survived)

Cassandra: And Hawke's brother. He's still alive, isn't he?

(If Carver is a Grey Warden)

Varric: Aveline took him off somewhere when the Calling started going nuts, but he'll tag along—he always does.

(If Carver is a templar)

Varric: Still alive, still a templar. He'll go as soon as he hears. Can't let Hawke have all the glory.

(If Bethany survived)

Cassandra: And Hawke's sister. She's still alive, isn't she?

(If Bethany is a Grey Warden)

Varric: Aveline took her off somewhere when the Calling started going nuts, but she'll try to keep Hawke out of trouble. Better be.

(If Bethany is a circle mage)

Varric: Sunshine will go. As soon as she hears. I'm sure of it.
Varric: Hawke would rather we stay away, stay safe. That won't fly forever. Besides, if I went to the Anderfels, how could I annoy you?
Cassandra: You would find a way.

───────

(If Hawke died at Here Lies the Abyss)

Cassandra: About Hawke...
Varric: Don't, Seeker. Just... don't.
Cassandra: But what about Fenris. Does he...
Varric: He knows. I sent a letter. Leave it be...

───────

(After Morrigan joins the Inquisition)

Varric: You may recall, Seeker, that a friend of mine had one of those Eluvians. It didn't end well. Are you really going to allow one in Skyhold?
Cassandra: You speak as though I could forbid it. I did not know your friend or see her Eluvian. If you have an issue speak with Lady Morrigan.
Varric: Um... No. I'll pass.

───────

Cassandra: Varric, you are aware that I'm a candidate for the Sunburst Throne?
Varric: So I heard.
Cassandra: Not a single snide remark?
Varric: What?
Cassandra: I don't look forward to your needling. But its absence is telling.

───────

(After the quest Deep Trouble)

Cassandra: Am I to understand your Bianca is married?
Varric: Oh have we reached the state where we gossip about each other's love lives? Did you hear that boss? Don't worry, I'll tell you whenever she says.
Cassandra: Forget I mentioned anything. It was a simple question, Varric.
Varric: There was nothing simple about it.

───────

Varric: You brought up Bianca, Seeker. Does that mean I could ask about your "conquests"?
Cassandra: I would rather you didn't.
Varric: No tantalizing secrets to divulge?
Cassandra: None.
Varric: So no one within say, a, five foot radius has caught your eye?
Inquisitor: Really? No one at all?
Cassandra: This... is not a discussion I want to have here.
Varric: (laughs) Are you blushing, Seeker? Maker the world is really coming to an end.
Inquisitor: Perhaps Cassandra and her... "conquest" would rather not discuss this in public.
Varric: Spoilsport.

───────

Varric: Nothing? You do know he's standing right there...
Cassandra: I have no "conquests".
Varric: How about dalliances? Liaisons? Illicit affairs?
Cassandra: No.
Inquisitor: Enough poking, Varric.
Varric: Is it Buttercup? Is it?

───────

Cassandra: Very well, Varric. If you wish to know about men I have known, I will tell you.
Varric: Look, Seeker. I was only...
Cassandra: You are right. I pried first, and fair is fair. Years ago, I knew a young mage named Regalyan. He was dashing, unlike any men I met. He died at the Conclave.
Varric: ...oh.
Cassandra: What we had was fleeting. And years had passed. Still, it saddens me to think he's gone.
Varric: I'm sorry.

───────

Varric: Look, Seeker, I didn't mean to make you talk about your mage friend.
Cassandra: I know. I was not trying to make you speak of Bianca. If I was you would know. I will yell, books will be stabbed.
Varric: (laughs) I'll keep that in mind.

───────

Cassandra: I still don't understand how drakes take that hand.
Varric: ...hmm. Maybe we should start you on Shepard's Six.
Cassandra: Isn't that a children game?
Varric: Yeah.

───────

Varric: So as a Seeker, you're the highest ranked person in the Inquisition. But you're not in charge.
Cassandra: Leliana's rank equals my own insofar as our rank means anything outside the Chantry.
Varric: But you want to get shit done, right?
Cassandra: I declared the Inquisition but I don't know that I'm best suited to command it. Perhaps you're interested in the position seems you seem so interested?
Varric: Oh no you don't. Leave me out of that mess.

───────

Cassandra: There's almost no mention of your part in the Tale of the Champion, Varric.
Varric: Hm.., I don't want to bore people.
Cassandra: You don't want to incriminate yourself, you mean.
Varric: Oh... same same really.

───────

Cassandra: I'm watching you, Varric, just so you know.
Varric: Oh.. that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. What did I do now?
Cassandra: Nothing. Yet. Just keep it that way.
Varric: Varric Tethras, paragon of good behavior, at your service, Seeker.

───────

Varric: (sigh) Is even terrain too much to ask for?
Cassandra: Is there a trouble?
Varric: Oh you might be used to traipse into the countryside, punching dragons, interrogating people, or whatever you did before this. I'm from the city!
Cassandra: (laughs)

───────

Varric: Think you'll ever go back to Nevarra, Seeker?
Cassandra: Why? Are you eager to see me go?
Varric: I wasn't, actually. But, now that you mentioned it...
Cassandra: How do you know I wouldn't just drag you along?
Varric: Be still my heart. I've grown on you.
Cassandra: Like fungus.

───────

Varric: I spy...
Cassandra: No.
Varric: But...
Cassandra: No.
Varric: (grunts) Well you should be good at finding things. Of course, ...couldn't find Hawke.

───────

Varric: Did you really think the Conclave had a chance of making peace, Seeker?
Cassandra: You do not?
Varric: What was the Divine's plan? Bring everyone together and hope really hard that they would all get along?
Cassandra: Most Holy did not confide her plan to me. Perhaps she thought they were tired of death and conflict.
Varric: Oh when is that ever been true? For Templars or mages.
Cassandra: I will not mock a dead woman, Varric. She did what she could, and that is more than most.

───────

Cassandra: How do you write as you do, Varric? I can never find the proper words.
Varric: You. Write. Really?
Cassandra: I've needed to describe events in reports. They always come off as...
Varric: Dry? Boring? Lifeless? Stale?
Cassandra: You... are an ass.
Varric: Just... helping you find those words.

───────

Cassandra: I hear reconstruction is progressing well in Kirkwall.
Varric: I know things are bad there.
Cassandra: I wasn't trying to...
Varric: You weren't trying to remind me how bad is it in Kirkwall? So you decided to talk about it?
Cassandra: About its recovery!
Varric: What you're talking about are the buildings, and even then that will take years. People don't recover so easily.

───────

Cassandra: I think it's time to stop playing the wounded party with me, Varric.
Varric: Ignoring the times you actually wounded me?
Cassandra: I did no such thing. I questioned you, and then brought you to Haven so you could tell your story to the Divine.
Varric: What then? "Thanks Varric! We believe you! See you around!"
Cassandra: And ignoring the fact you did lie to me.
Cassandra: Do not pretend to be an innocent bystander - I could have done far worse, with full justification.
Varric: Yes, thank you for not torturing me. I'm so much happier now.
───────
Varric: You never did tell me why you dragged me to Haven, Seeker.
Varric: I mean, what could I have told the Divine that you couldn't say yourself?
Cassandra: I thought she needed to see the chest hair for herself.
Varric: Er... Say again?
Cassandra: I thought she needed to hear it from the horse's mouth, as it were. I also knew she would ask you to help us.
Varric: Help the Inquisition? Me?
Cassandra: A crazy thought, I know, yet here you are.

───────

Varric I spy with my little eye...
Cassandra: No.
Varric: Oh, come now, Seeker. I'm just trying to be friendly.
Cassandra: Try to be quiet, instead.
Varric When you you brought me along to talk? Perish the thought.

───────

Cassandra: Have you been taking notes on all this, Varric?
Varric: You'll need to be more specific there, Seeker.
Cassandra: The Inquisition! You're not planning to write a book about us, are you?
Varric: Don't get your hopes up. You're not that interesting a subject.
Dorian: I am! Please feel free to write a book about me.
Varric: And call it what? The wayward magister?
Dorian: I'm not a magister! Oh forget it, you'll just get it wrong.

───────

(If mages were recruited in Redcliffe)

Varric: You know, Seeker, I thought you'd take charge back in Redcliffe. Maybe grab Fiona and rough her up.
Cassandra: I do not "rough people up."
Varric: Sorry, my mistake. You'd have your men do it for you.
Cassandra: You will never let that go, will you?
Varric: Probably not.

───────

(upon seeing the dragon and giant on the Storm Coast)
Varric:: Seeker, you're the dragon expert. What do we do now?
Cassandra:: Don't get killed. By either of them.

───────

(upon walking by the Waking Sea at the Storm Coast)
Varric:: The Waking Sea. Somewhere across all that water is Kirkwall.
Cassandra:: It was a long journey to Haven.
Varric:: Considering the company, I'm surprised it didn't feel longer.

Varric and Cole

Varric: So you could make people not see you, Cole. Can you do that for other people?
Cole: Yes. It makes me tired, and doesn't work if they're loud. Or angry. Or bright.
Varric: Hm, what about things? Can you make people ignore an object?
Cole: Maybe. Like what?
Varric: Oh, I don't know. A book, or a box... or a crate... or a wagon full of crates?
Sera: Turning creepy loose on your stuff? Not a good idea, dwarfy.
Solas: Smuggling? That is certainly a... unique use of a spirit's innate power of persuasion.
Cassandra: Dwarf...
Varric: I'm just asking!

───────

Cole: They were staring at me.
Varric: Who are "they," Kid?
Cole: In Skyhold. The servants in the courtyard. They were looking at me and whispering.
Varric: It's the hat. Kind of hard to miss. Don't worry about it.
Cole: What's wrong with my hat?
Varric: That's going to take a while. I'll explain "clothes" when we get back.

───────

Cole: Should I change my hat?
Varric: Nah, if they're busy staring at your hat, they're ignoring all your other flaws.
Cole: A silk shirt with three buttons left undone.
Varric: Exactly! If you can't be flawless -and no one can- be flashy. Nobody will know the difference.

───────

Varric: How are you holding up, Kid? You've been quiet for a while.
Cole: My shoelaces keep coming untied.
Varric: You're doing fine.
Cole: Can you talk to them? They don't listen to me.
Varric: Maybe not so fine... Don't talk to them, Kid. Just tie them in knots.

───────

Cole: I like travelling with Dwarves.
Varric: I'm glad to hear it, Kid.
Cole: You're quiet, but the old song still echoes inside, almost like templars.

───────

Cole: But he died at the end of the last book. If he comes back, the readers will be confused.
Varric: Okay, delving into my personal life is one thing, but a writer needs some privacy.

───────

Varric: So, Kid, why human?
Cole: It was the shape that would help.
Varric: Huh. Most people don't pick a shape. I guess I was hoping for something deeper with that question.
Cole: It had to be him. But harmless. The him he wanted that wouldn't hurt.
Varric: Well that's... deeper. I think.

───────

Varric: Hey, Kid, back in the last village that farmer was looking past you. Why didn't you let him see you?
Cole: He didn't need me.
Varric: Maybe not, but you could learn something by talking with him.
Cole: What would I learn? I can hear when they need me.
Varric: You could learn not to scare them so badly that they have to forget you.
Cole: I'll... try.

───────

Cole: How do you make them calm?
Varric: Who, Kid?
Cole: Everyone. You talk and the fear fades, slipping to sleep. Not always happy, but not angry.
Varric: Most people are like cats. They either puff up to look dangerous or they crouch down and hope you don't see them. You show them you're not a victim or threat, and they're in your lap and purring before you know it.
Cole: Cats swat my feet even when no one can see me.
Varric: That explains a lot.

───────

Varric: How are you feeling, Kid?
Cole: If you don't get some sunshine you wilt. She says she's not a plant, she's fine, but falling, faltering, foolish. Blood on her hands. People and demons always end in trouble. Too many daisies in this garden. I am good, Varric. I am me. You don't need to worry, but thank you for caring.
Varric: Al...right? Well let me know if you ever... er... yeah.

───────

Cole: The heft in my hands, solid, strong, but curving, careful, like her. Soot, smudge on her cheek, tiny scars on her fingers, old fires, her little frowns when she twists her gear ever so slightly.
Varric: Yup. That's her, Kid.

───────

Cole: Your stories aren't real. But then people read them and they are!
Varric: Nn, get the readers invested and you'll have them forever.
Cole: So many people reading, dreaming, feeling. Spirits spill around the veil making shapes. Reality from writing!
Varric: I've got fans in the Fade? Well, that's something. Shame I'll never meet them.

───────

Cole: Do you write to reach across? To hear the song that was sundered?
Varric: I'm... not sure what that even means, Kid, but probably?

───────

Varric: Hey, Kid, what would a pride demon say to weaken a warrior's resolve? I need something that gets under the skin.
Cole: Does she use a big sword, or a sword and shield?
Varric: One of the big two handers.
Cole: The next time you imagine him touching you, someone you love will die.
Varric: Err, well, that went a little dark. Who's "him" in this?
Cole: She knows who he is. Does it not work for your book?
Varric: No, it works great! Just glad you're not that kind of demon.

───────

Varric: Okay, Kid, try it again like we practiced.
Cole: To pairs beats one pair. Four of a kind beats two pairs. She slips the ace of dragons into a thigh-high boot, calls to the barman for another round. Blondie stares at the table, angry, always angry.
Varric: Focus, Kid, you can't beat four of a kind with bad memories.

───────

Cole: Do they ever stop talking to you?
Varric: Nouns, Kid. Does who ever stop talking to me?
Cole: The people in your head. They aren't real, but they have voices and thoughts and sometimes you see through their eyes.
Varric: If they stopped I wouldn't have to write so much.

───────

Cole: I think I have it. Let me try again.
Varric: Alright, Kid, let's see what you've got.
Cole: Knock, knock.
Varric: Who's there?
Cole: Cole.
Varric: Cole who?
Cole: It's me, Cole. That is my name.
Varric: No, no. You're still not getting it. Sorry, Kid.

───────

Cole: Knock, knock.
Varric: Okay, I'll buy it. Who's there?
Cole: The Inquisition.
Varric: The Inquisition who?
Cole: That's who we are, Varric?
Varric: Er... yeah. That's not working either. You didn't get that one from Sera, did you?

───────

Varric: Okay, try it again, you'll get it.
Cole: Knock, knock.
Varric: Who's there?
Cole: Me.
Varric: (Sighs.) Me who?
Cole: Me. And I'm telling a knock knock joke.
Varric: Um... that was... closer keep trying.

───────

Varric: So, Kid, you don't have any formal combat training at all?
Cole: No? I go where the knife needs to be.
Varric: ...er. Whatever works for you.

───────

Sera: Turning creepy loose on your stuff? Not a good idea, dwarfy.
Solas: Smuggling? That is certainly a... unique use of a spirit's innate power of persuasion.
Sera: Dwarf...
Varric: I'm just asking.

Varric and Dorian

Dorian: What's a deshyr from the Merchant's Guild doing in the middle of a battle against ancient evils?
Varric: I could ask the same thing of a pampered noble Tevinter.
Dorian: You can't call me pampered! Nobody peeled a grape for me in weeks!
Varric: Talk to Josephine. She can arrange something.

───────

Dorian: So what's your estimation, Varric? Think we could win?
Varric: You are asking me to give odds to our beloved inquisitor success!
Dorian: What would that look like? Three to one? (laughs.)
Varric: In his favor?

(Dorian not romanced)

Dorian: After Corypheus pulled an archdemon out of his ass, are you joking?
Inquisitor: You would actually bet against me?
Now now, if I weren't here, it would be five to one at least.

(Dorian romanced)

Dorian: I take those odds. This is why I adore him so.
Inquisitor: Enough, both of you!
Varric: I agree. So morally reprehensible to bet against your own side.
Dorian: (grunts.) I am a bad man. We'll talk later.

───────

Dorian: Varric, I want a new nickname.
Varric: What's wrong with sparkler? Not colorful enough for you?
Dorian: You must know me better now. Or does the moniker you gave me five minutes after we met still apply?
Varric: I have the eyes of a story teller. It's a gift.
Dorian: So, I'm a bit of light you stick in a window sill to impress passersby? All flash, no heat? Hmm... that's actually pretty clever.
Varric: See? Embrace your place in the universe, sparkler.

───────

Dorian: I'm very sorry about Hawke, Varric.
Varric: Yeah, well... what can you do.
Dorian: Does he have any family, or...
Varric: I've had to write some letters. Let's not talk about it.

───────

Varric: How are you feeling about that bet now, Sparkler?
Dorian: Still good actually.
Varric: You're crazy! We're beating Corypheus everytime we turn around. He's on the run!
Dorian: We're beating his minions, my hirsute little friend. Not the same thing. Besides, the moment we beat Corypheus into the sand, I'll be more than happy to pay up.
Varric: Heh, if he crunches us, you'll be dead.
Dorian: That will make it hard to spend my winnings, true.

───────

Varric: Should you be married off right now, Sparkler? Little magelets running amok.
Dorian: If my family had their way.
Varric: Had someone lined up for you, huh?
Dorian: Livia herathinos. Bright girl, hourglass figure, wicked tongue. Relieved I'm gone, I expect.
Varric: Sounds like you two would have made a happy couple.
Dorian: Oh yes. Trading coy insults at every party would have been a delight.

───────

Varric: What do you think, Sparkler. Ten royals says the next thing we run into farts fire.
Dorian: I'll take that bet. I win either way.

───────

Dorian: Alright, never let it be said I don't pay my debts. Here you are, five royals.
Varric: I tried to warn you.
Dorian: I had no idea nugs possess such creepy little feet. Stuff of nightmares.

───────

Dorian: You know, Varric, I went to Kirkwall once.
Varric: Yeah?
Dorian: Bit of a shithole.
Varric: Yeah...

───────

Varric: Planning on settling that fifteen crowns debt anytime soon, Sparkler?
Dorian: And if I don't? Do you have tiny enforcers come strip me of my holdings?
Varric: No, I don't know, I suppose I could always send a letter to your family.
Dorian: The dwarf plays dirty! Alright, alright, you win. This time.

───────

Varric: I see you eyeing Bianca, Sparkler. Hands to yourself.
Dorian: I would't worry, she's not my type.
Varric: Huh. And here I thought you're a man of refined taste.
Dorian: For fine wine and literature, Varric. Not for... whatever that contraption is.
Varric: Contraption!? Don't listen to him, sweetheart. His people are vilified for a reason.

───────

Dorian: So Varric, are you and Cassandra... ?
Varric: What? No! Why would you even ask that?
Dorian: Truly? Bizarre.
Cassandra: I'm right here!
Varric: Just because two people dislike each other doesn't mean they're about to kiss, Sparkler.
Dorian: Not according to your books.
Varric: Don't mistake me for that hack who wrote Hard in Hightown II. I can spell.

───────

Varric: So, Sparkler, what do you think of the Inquisition so far?
Dorian: It's certainly interesting. An archdemon attacking me, that's a first.
Varric: Twenty royals says you'll see something weirder before the day's out.
Dorian: I don't think I should take that bet.

───────

Varric: I got to ask, does any of this shit make sense to you?
Dorian: To me? Are you referring to the giant hole in the sky? Or the creature out of chantry cautionary tale who wants to be a god?
Varric: Either, I'm feeling generous.
Dorian: What's the problem? Someone shows up, tears the place apart, declares himself a king? That's half of history.
Varric: Corypheus is that terrifying drunk nobody'll ask to leave?
Dorian: Even after he puts a hole in the ceiling. Terribly common.

───────

Dorian: You owe me twenty royals, Varric. I'd like them paid in candied dates.
Varric: I haven't lost that wager yet.
Dorian: You said we'd be ass-deep in trouble. This is more like knee-high.
Varric: I didn't specify whose ass, did I?
Dorian: Leave it to a dwarf, always lowering the bar.

───────

Dorian: Varric, when you were at the Winter Palace, did you meet Celene's handmaidens?
Varric: The ones that finish each other's sentences? Yes I did.
Dorian: They were asking me about you. Personal things.
Varric: Err... how personal?
Dorian: Something about your chest hair, and whether you were currently... involved with anyone.
Varric: Huh, creepy.

───────

Dorian: So these books you write, Varric... who actually reads them?
Varric: Why, anyone with some taste and a lust for adventure.
Dorian: That's a lot of people? Do the southern masses even know how to read?
Varric: (sighs.) Such an elitist.
Dorian: Yes? I left my homeland, Varric, I didn't up and turn peasant.

───────

Dorian: I'd assumed you'd go up to Weisshaupt with Hawke, Varric.
Varric: Still business to deal with here, don't you think?
Dorian: You should be thankful. I've been to Weisshaupt. It's not good. Carved into a mountain, cold, dour, everyone so bloody serious they can't take a piss... you wouldn't like it.
Varric: Hawke would be there.
Dorian: And he/she is quite the ray of sunshine, that's true.

───────

Dorian: Varric, did I hear this right? You met Corypheus before?
Varric: We didn't have tea and crumpets, Sparkler. I was there when he woke up.
Dorian: And he said, what? "Hello, I'm one of the magisters who broke into the Black City. Pleased to meet you!"
Varric: More like (clear throats) "Argh, I'm a darkspawn! Dumat! Dumat!" Then Hawke killed him.
Dorian: Not very well, it appears.
Varric: Tell me about it.

───────

Varric: So I hear you're kind of the black sheep in your family, Sparkler.
Dorian: Where does that saying come from? I'm not a sheep. No one in my family could be described a "sheep".
Varric: I'm just saying, you and I have... something in common.
Dorian: Goodness, I had no idea.
Varric: Okay, not that much in common.

───────

Dorian: Come on just answer the question, Varric
Varric: My mother didn't raise any morons, Sparkler, I won't touch that one.
Dorian: You must have an opinion. And you're a dwarf! Completely unbiased!
Varric: There's no way I'm answering "which inquisition mage is the best-dressed." Not for all the gold in Orzammar.
Vivienne: Also, the answer is obvious.

───────

Varric: So you're not in the magisterium?
Dorian: For the last time: Not everyone in the Imperium is a magister.
Varric: But they do pretty much hand out seats like they're candy.
Dorian: Yes, but it's that black licorice candy with salt on it, not the good kind.

───────

Dorian: Care to play another game of cards when we get ack to Skyhold, Varric?
Varric: Not if it's with your crazy Tevinter rules.
Dorian: Now, now, nobody ever died from those. Lately.

───────

Dorian: Varric, you've seen this "red lyrium" before, yes?
Varric: Wish I hadn't.
Dorian: Do you know if a mage could access its power?
Varric: Don't go there, Sparkler. Don't wonder if it's useful. Don't even think about it.
Varric: Just stay far away, and hope none of it gets to your stupider back home.

Varric and Iron Bull

Varric: You know, I met the Arishok.
Iron Bull: Oh, the old one? Man, he had an impressive rack. The new Arishok doesn't have horns at all. Usually means they're destined for something special.
Varric: I met him too. The only thing they seem to have in common is a tendency to burn things.
Iron Bull: That pretty much sums up the antaam, yes.

───────

Varric: So, you're Ben-Hassrath, huh? The spies of the Qunari.
Iron Bull: Oh, you've heard of us.
Varric: I spent some time in Kirkwall.
Iron Bull: That must have been fun.
Varric: You could say that.

Varric: You're not the first Ben-Hassrath I've run across. Hawke and I were on a caper with one named Tallis.
Iron Bull: You don't say.
Varric: She cause us no end of trouble. You wouldn't know her by any chance?
Iron Bull: Hey, one time I ran across this dwarf on the road. Short, grouchy. You think you may know him?
Varric: I'm on the Merchant's Guild. Ten royals says I'm not only know him—he owes me money.
Iron Bull: Oh. Well... no. I don't know Tallis. Sorry.

───────

Varric: How could you possibly be a spy?
Iron Bull: Well, it's a pretty easy job. I do some fighting, and drinking, and then once in a while I tell Par Vollen about it.
Varric: Heh. Where's the sneaking, plotting, the subtle machinations?
Iron Bull: If you do that, everyone knows you're a spy. Drinking, fighting, writing notes, that's all it really takes.
Varric: Jeez. You're really the worst qunari ever, or the best. I can't decide.

───────

Iron Bull: Still waiting for me to do something sneaky and spy-like?
Varric: I'll see magical dwarf flying through the sky before that happens.
Iron Bull: Good. Because I'm supposed to ask about your friend Isabela.
Varric: See? And I can't still tell if you're shitting me. Sometimes you're so qunari you're making my head hurt.

───────

This section contains spoilers for:
Dragon Age: Inquisition.

(The qunari dreadnoughts were sacrificed)

Varric: So, you're a free man, Tal-Vashoth.
Iron Bull: Living the life. Unless you think I'm even... "more" secretly a spy now.
Varric: I think you've finally decided whether you care about your people, or your "people".
Iron Bull: Hmm... something like that.
Varric: You've made the right choice.
───────

(The Bull's Chargers were sacrificed)

Varric: So, qunari in good standing. You must be proud?
Iron Bull: Tolerably. Not a friend of the alliance.
Varric: I got to see enough of the qunari back in Kirkwall.
Iron Bull: Hey... we probably won't try to burn the city this time.
Varric: No? You could always trust the qunari, until you're between them and something they want.

───────

Iron Bull: So, your girlfriend is a smith.
Varric: Yes...?
Iron Bull: She makes weapons... with her own hands?
Varric: Among other things...
Iron Bull: That's hot.

───────

(Inquisitor romanced Bull)

Varric: So Bull, you and the inquisitor, huh?
Iron Bull: Uhuh...
Varric: I'd love some impressions, imagery, something for my next book.
Iron Bull: Sorry, that room is for him and me. No one else invited.
Varric: Safe harbor from the storm outside...
Iron Bull: All right, now you're just making it weird.

───────

(Bull romanced Dorian)

Varric: So Bull, you and Dorian?
Iron Bull: Mm-hmm...
Varric: Two worlds tearing them apart, Tevinter and qunari, with only love to keep them together.
Dorian: I don't see how this is even remotely your business, Varric.
Iron Bull: Could you make it sound angrier? Love is a bit soft.
Dorian: Please stop helping the dwarf!
Varric: How about passion?
Iron Bull: Yes... that's better. Love is all starlight and gentle blushes. Passion leaves your fingers sore from clawing the sheets.
Dorian: You could at least have had the courtesy to use the bedposts!
Iron Bull: Hey... don't top from the bottom.
Varric: (Laughs.) Passion it is then.

───────

Iron Bull: Hey, don't move dwarves have beards? Or at least mustaches or something?
Varric: I make up for it elsewhere.

───────

Iron Bull: You're a damn fine marksman. How do you manage that while staring up at everyone's ass the whole time?
Varric: In the world of tall people you find ways to keep them from tripping over you.
Iron Bull: You've ever get the asses mixed up?
Varric: If I do, Tiny, you'll be the first to know.

───────

Iron Bull: So in your books, the stuff with the spies is all wrong.
Varric: If only I'd had you around to consult.
Iron Bull: That "Blue swan flies at midnight" stuff doesn't work. Most times, you pass information on the dead drop. No meetings at all.
Varric: Bah... where's the drama in that?
Iron Bull: Urgh... can you mess up the realism of something else? Like lyrium smuggling.

───────

Iron Bull: By the way, Varric, you write some nice fight scenes.
Varric: Oh thank you! I'm surprised you think so. They're not exactly realistic.
Iron Bull: Hmm... I figured that out when the good guy did a backflip while wearing a chainmail shirt.
Varric: And that didn't bother you?
Iron Bull: Back in Seheron, I fell on a guy who tried to stab me in the guts. I felt the blade chip as it went through my gut and hit my backribs. But I was alive and on top. I sawed through the armor on the rebel's neck, back and forth, until it went red. I don't need a book to remind me that the world is full of horrible crap.
Varric: Heh. Impossible swashbuckling it is.

───────

Varric: Hey, Tiny, any chance you could get out of the way when I'm trying to shoot?
Iron Bull: Maybe you should stand in front of me. I'd still have a clear shot at the bad guys from the knees up.

───────

Iron Bull: Hey, Varric, you get that thing I asked about?
Varric: It should be there next time we head back to base. Not easy to find, by the way.
Iron Bull: Hmm... how do you guys live without this stuff?
Varric: I don't see what the deal is honestly, but different taste.
Iron Bull: Ahh... now I just need some hot milk and some of those Orlesian guimauves to put in it.
Varric: Hey, what you do with this cocoa is up to you. I don't need to hear about it.

───────

Varric: Why go with iron? Iron is brittle. Why not call yourself the Steel Bull or something.
Iron Bull: Steel Bull is already taken by a pit fighter in Antiva city. Thought about Veridium, but it turns out that there's two exotic dancers in Llomerryn that use that one. Identical twins.
Varric: Hm... silverite?
Iron Bull: Tavern in Rialto.
Varric: (Laughs.) So iron was the only thing left.
Iron Bull: Well, I could have gone into textiles, but that sends the wrong message.

───────

Varric: I've got to ask, what's with qunari and their swords?
Iron Bull: That's just the warriors. Ben-Hassrath use whathever tool's right for the job. Besides, didn't you name your crossbow after a woman?
Varric: Huh. Point taken.

───────

Varric: Is the Qun some kind of big secret? How come no qunari I've met would explain it even slightly?
Iron Bull: It's not a secret. It's just too big for a quick chat. "Tell me about the Qun" is like saying "Tell me about economics". Most qunari know just enough to get by. It's like a blind dwarf trying to figure out a dragon by touch. Only the priests really have the whole picture. And they spend their whole lives figuring that crap out.
Varric: Well, I'll leave them to it then.

───────

Iron Bull: You know what I miss? Horn balm. It's impossible to get it out here.
Varric: Really? Back in Kirkwall you couldn't kick open a crate without finding a jar of the stuff.
Iron Bull: Really? You got any?
Varric: Ummm... No. We usually just threw it away.
Iron Bull: (Grunts.) Horns. Itching.

───────

Iron Bull: Ahh... These are the types of fights I love.
Varric: Really?
Iron Bull: Every day back in Seheron I waited for a dagger in the back. Is that civilian secretly working for the Vints? Or is she just scared because she's caught between us and them? Here, the bad guys practically have signs. It's so much easier.
Varric: Well, it is simpler, I give you that.

───────

Iron Bull: Hey, Varric, are you gonna write me into one of your stories?
Varric: How could I not?
Iron Bull: When you do, make sure you describe the musculature right. 'Cause this isn't just endurance work—there was a lot of strength training to get here. You wanna use words like "rippling", or "ripped". "Ripped" is good too.
Varric: Hmm... The Iron Bull's belly was prone to rippling after every meal. He rarely wore shirts as they ripped under the strain.
Iron Bull: That hurts, Varric. That's hurtful.

───────

Iron Bull: Hey, Varric, I was reading your stuff. Where do your bad guys come from?
Varric: Well, some of them come from Tevinter and some are Ben-Hassrath spies, but I like the story where the villain was the man beside you the whole time. The best villains don't see themselves as evil. They're fighting for a good cause and willing to get their hands dirty.
Iron Bull: All right that's... really deep and all but, I meant where do the bad guys come from literally. The way you write it is like they just fall from the sky and land on top on the hero.
Varric: I like to leave some things to the reader's imagination.

───────

Varric: You doing all right, Bull? I heard you breathing a little hard after the last fight.
Iron Bull: (Grunts.) Lung exercises. Clearing the stale humors. It's a Qun thing.
Varric: Uhuh...
Iron Bull: Hey... some of us have to swing a giant hunk of metal instead of pulling our girlfriend's trigger from the back row.
Varric: (Laughs.) Ouch.
Iron Bull: Too close to home?
Varric: No, no... that was good. I should find some way to work that into my next book.
Iron Bull: All right, but it was my line. You're gonna credit me in the acknowledgements, right?

Varric and Sera

Varric: So what exactly is the deal with the Friends of Red Jenny?
Sera: Why are you lot always on about this? There's no deal. You just do things.
Varric: Just... "things" like... whatever.
Sera: Just things.
Varric: Like the, what, hundred or so groups in Kirkwall, that sat around all night dressed as guards or exotic dancers, waiting to jump out and hit someone?
Sera: Nah, a friend shut them out. But they were legend, right?

Varric and Solas

Solas: Varric, you joined the inquisition when seeker Pentaghast questioned you?
Varric: She was very insistent that I help.
Solas: Interesting.
Varric: What's Interesting?
Solas: It surprised me that an elven apostate is the one who joined the inquisition voluntarily.
───────
Varric: What's with you and the doom stuff? Are you always this cheery or is the hole in the sky getting to you?
Solas: I've no idea what you mean.
Varric: All the "fallen empire" crap you go on about. What's so great about empires anyway?
Varric: So we lost the deep roads, and Orzammar's too proud to ask for help. So what? We're not Orzammar and we're not our empire.
Varric: There are tens of thousands of us living up here in the sunlight now, and it's not that bad.
Varric: Life goes on. It's just different than it used to be.
Solas: And you have no concept of what that difference cost you.
Varric: I know what it didn't cost me. I'm still here, even after all those thaigs fell.

───────

Solas: By the end of Hard in Hightown, almost every character is revealed as a spy or traitor.
Varric: Wait, you read my book?
Solas: It was in the Inquisition library. Everyone but Donnen turned out to be in disguise. Is that common?
Varric: Are we still talking about books or are you asking if everyone I know is a secret agent?
Solas: Are there many tricksters in dwarven literature?
Varric: A handful, but they're the exception. Mostly they're just honoring the ancestors. It's very dull stuff. Human literature? Now there's where you'll find the tricky, clever, really deceptive types.
Solas: Curious.
Varric: Not really. Dwarves write how they want things to be. Humans write to figure out how things are.

───────

Solas: I have heard your books are very popular, Master Tethras.
Varric: I do all right.
Solas: I am glad of it.
Varric: Really? No sarcasm, no superior attitude?
Solas: We live in a dark and angry time, child of Stone. So much of what people believe has come crashing down.
Solas: If you bring them a little peace with the worlds you make between the pages, you have done more than most.

Varric and Vivienne

Varric: Your accent's not Orlesian, Iron Lady. Where are you from originally?
Vivienne: I was born in Wycome, if you must know.
Varric: You're a fellow Marcher?
Vivienne: Wycome is a civilized city-state. Unlike some.
Varric: Yeah. Starkhaven is pretty much a collection of howling barbarians.
Vivenne: Which is just slightly less foul than Tantervale.

───────

Vivienne: Am I to understand, Varric, that you knew the apostate who destroyed Kirkwall's chantry?
Varric: Unfortunately, yes.
Vivienne: What could he possibly have hoped to accomplish with such madness?
Varric: Exactly what he got: a whole lot of innocent people killing each other.
Vivienne: I take it he's no longer on your Winter's end gift list.
Varric: Depend. Does a flaming sack of bronto dung count as a gift?
Vivienne: Only if you tie it with a silk ribbon, my dear.

───────

Vivienne: You know, Varric darling, I read your Hard in Hightown.
Varric: You did? Seriously?
Vivienne: Most of the Imperial Court did. It was in fashion a few winters ago.
Varric: Just how much gold is my publisher stealing from me?

───────

Varric: So, enchanter to the Imperial Court? That's a fancy title.
Vivienne: How very observant.
Varric: Why aren't you holed up with the empress at Halamshiral?
Vivienne: Grand Duke Gaspard laid siege to the city while I was attending to business for the Circle.
Varric: Lucky for you, I guess.
Vivienne: The Circle shattered, the empire is at war, and the Divine is dead. Only an imbecile would consider this "lucky."

───────

Varric: You've got to have a few good stories about the court—intrigue, scandal, seductions?
Vivienne: I do. But it doesn't necessarily follow that I would share them.
Varric: Not even an amusing anecdote? You don't want a chance to bring someone down or boast a little?
Vivienne: Not to you, darling. Where's the benefit there?

───────

Vivienne: Do say whatever you're thinking, darling. If you hold it in any longer your face will split apart.
Varric: No, no, I don't want to bother you.
Vivienne: It's your face.
Varric: It's just... I was wondering how you got your nickname: Madame De Fer.
Vivienne: It was bestowed by a Marquise, sadly no longer with us.
Varric: Alright, that's a good one. I'm writing that down for later.
Vivienne: Am I to understand that you... are writing a book about me?
Varric: Well, it's just notes right now.
Vivienne: What kind of book is it?
Varric: I was planning on a political thriller: some backstabbing, power grabbing, maybe a murder or two. The Winter Palace was kinda inspiring and uh... apparently I've got plenty of readers there. I've never really done an Orleasian serial. It's a gamble but, you never know.
Vivienne: And what role do I play in this thriller of yours?
Varric: Actually, (nervous laugh), you're the villain.
Vivienne: (laughs)
Varric: Alright, how much trouble am I in for this book?
Vivienne: Don't be ridiculous, darling. Why would you be in trouble?
Varric: For the villain thing?
Vivienne: Not at all! I find it delightful.
Varric: Seriously?
Vivienne: My dear, if I didn't want for people to fear me, I wouldn't dress like this. The book is perfect.

───────

Vivienne: Varric darling, what manner of villain am I in your novel?
Varric: You're the, er, scheming duchess? Coldly manoeuvering her political rivals into a trap.
Vivienne: Yes, but what am I wearing? You are not going to describe me in anything less than the latest fashions are you?
Varric: I'm... going to spend the next few weeks researching Orleasian gowns, aren't I?
Vivienne: Yes, my dear. And my mask should be inlaid with opals.

───────

Vivienne: How many chapters will this book be, Varric dear?
Varric: Well the first one will come out in twelve chapters.
Vivienne: The first one?
Varric: I've read enough Orleasian fictions to know you never tell a story there in fewer than three complete books. They think you're just warming up after one.
Vivienne: And what happens to the scheming duchess in the first book?
Varric: Are you asking for spoilers, Madame De Fer?
Vivienne: Hints, darling. Not spoiler.

───────

Vivienne: You've never answered my question, Varric darling.
Varric: You still want hints on how my unfinished serial will turn out?
Vivienne: I'm providing you with details of Orleasian court life. Shouldn't you owe me something in return?
Varric: I already gave you a big one, Iron Lady.
Vivienne: Oh, really?
Varric: Really! If the book is a trilogy what is the odds the villain can be defeated in book one?
Vivienne: Mmm, that will do.

───────

Vivienne: Tell me, Varric, who is the protagonist of this serial?
Varric: You know, we're so far into spoiler territory right now. I think I better stop talking.
Vivienne: Come now, darling. You can tell me.
Varric: Not on your life, Iron Lady. The best way to ensure a book never finish is to tell someone your entire plot.

───────

Vivienne: Aren't you rather wealthy to be dirtying your hands like this, Varric?
Varric: Nobody told me there was a cutoff. Besides, Iron Lady, you're not poorer than me.
Vivienne: I just don't see any profit that would motivate a member of the Merchant's Guild to fight.
Varric: I don't know—not being killed by rampaging demons seems to be as good as gold to me.

───────

Varric: I have a serious question for you, Iron Lady.
Vivienne: I can hardly wait.
Varric: In the Imperial Court, if someone use the wrong fork at dinner, is that worse than death or just social suicide?
Vivienne: It's impossible to say, my dear. Anyone who has ever so mis-stepped was stabbed to death with the proper fork.

───────

Vivienne: I can't understand, Varric, that someone born into wealth and power would choose to live like a peasant.
Varric: Let's be fair, I live like a rich peasant.
Vivienne: You ignore your peers and spend your time amongst laborers and criminals in taverns.
Varric: Hah, I wish. These days is all outposts and marchings.
Vivienne: You know perfectly well what I mean, darling.
Varric: Look. All those things you like about nobility: power, wealth, notoriety—those are the things I hate about it.
Vivienne: You have a very peculiar taste.
Varric: Heh, just wait until you meet my friends.

───────

Vivienne: Varric darling, what's the name of your tailor?
Varric: Why? I don't think he makes anything in your size.
Vivienne: I want to send a sternly worded letter.

───────

Vivienne: I suppose you support the Chantry as a business decision, Varric?
Varric: Oh, it's more of a personal decision.
Vivienne: Really? You can't possibly be one of the faithful.
Varric: I don't like seeing them explode and destroy cities. Faith's not really a big factor there.

Varric, Cassandra, and Solas

Varric: So, who do you think is the toughest: Josephine, Leliana, or Cassandra?
Cassandra: I'm right here, you know.
Varric: That doesn't rule you out, Seeker.
Solas: Cullen's not up for consideration?
Varric: Curly? They just keep him around to look pretty.

───────

Solas: What would the Inquisition do without our stabilizing influence, Master Tethras?
Varric: I'd assume they'd just start burning things
Solas: That does sound like most humans I know.
Cassandra: If you gentlemen are quite finished?
Varric: Now, now, don't get touchy. We're just here to lend you simple humans our help.
Solas: Before you cause everything to explode.
Varric: Again.

@@ Line 1,259: / Line 1,259: @@
 * '''Varric:''' So... Hero, you and Josephine...
 * '''Blackwall:''' No. No, you are not getting me into this conversation.
-* '''Varric:''' Oh, conte
+* '''Varric:''' Oh, content to pine in silence, gazing at the dear ambassador from afar!
-nt to pine in silence, gazing at the dear ambassador from afar!
 * '''Blackwall:''' Can we talk about something else? Revasa! Revasa is the best, you were right!
 * '''Varric:''' I could help, you know. Nothing stirs the heart like a well-written word.