Not above trying that. [Speaking to someone his height, or at least close to it, was relieving for the dwarf. After running around with a seven-foot tall Qunari for the past few months, it was nice to not have to crane his neck.]

[Permanent neck damage wouldn't do well for his image.]

Maybe later though. I use these hands to make money, after all.

Let me know when you do? [A second glance at the rules on the wall had Varric falling quiet for a moment. He glanced back toward the woman, noting her curious pose with a quirked brow and a slight twitch of the mouth.]

As long as it isn't one of us, I mean. Not too found of the rules to this "academy." Especially not those.

Not necessarily. [Possessing the mind of the writer meant that he was often dancing with complex scenarios, even if few of them made it to the page.] Might not want to get their hands dirty, or risk getting hurt themselves. I'm guessing you can hold your own? Well, same here.

So if they pit us against each other, they work their enemies down. At the end of it, they have to take out one of us, instead of 30.

[But then, that would imply that the thirty of them had a common enemy. And Varric had never seen Elda before in his life.]

Maybe not that...

Trickery doesn't mean power. [But even he had to admit that their captors were talented, at least when it came to magic. Varric had been on his way out of a portal before waking up. That meant someone had to be strong enough to alter the rift for a split second, enough to allow him and only him through.]

[There were only a handful of people he knew of that were capable of altering the rifts in some way or another. He suspected that Elda knew none of them.]

Gotta say, this situation is more than a little bullshit.

[An uneasy look spread over Varric's features, and he takes a slight step backward at Elda's outburst. He understood where she was coming from, but the manic nature of it all makes him, however briefly, fear for his safety.]

[The doubts go away as quickly as they come on, however, replaced by concern.]

We'll figure it out, alright, Fang? [Bad nicknames were a good idea when someone was stressed out, right?] Hell, I'll figure it out for you, and bring them straight to you for clawing up purposes.

[Varric couldn't help but smile at her change of mood. Sure, he was a little put off by the whole thing, but he couldn't fault her for being a little unstable considering the whole situation.]

[At her comment of being a gentleman, Varric gave a little bow. No one he knew from back home would ever call him a gentleman. It was almost nice to hear.]

Consider my promise kept. [Gentleman or not, he wasn't a promise-breaker.] And consider yourself recruited to this investigatory clusterfuck. I'll be your host.

[He didn't have any practical experience, but he'd written a number of crime novels, all of which had been well-researched. If Donnen could solve a mystery, so could he.]

[He'll take that as a shake and grip her hand firmly. He'd read her name already, but that didn't mean they couldn't keep their manners. Hell, maintaining some amount of decency might just be what kept them from falling into the savagery that seemed to be expected of them.]

Varric. Varric Tethras. [He beamed up at the girl.] I'd kiss your hand like a proper gentleman, but that isn't really my thing.

And I'm a taken man. Doesn't mean I can't apologize over my lack of manners. [Nevertheless, Varric didn't stop smiling. He was comforted by the strength in her grip. With all these threats of murder and whatnot, it was good to know that, presumably, Elda could defend herself.]

[Of course, it also meant that she was capable of killing.]

Not quite. [Varric straightened up, sensing the perfect opportunity to talk about himself.] A writer, actually, and a damn good one. My first serial was about solving crimes. I figure that should help me out here.

[He's good at wriggling his way into people's hearts. Even the staunchest of soldiers have fallen in with him because of his ways and his writing.]

City guard and some assassins. Throw in a few mercenaries and sweet talk a few templars, and there you go.

[He's certainly warming up to Elda. She lets him talk about himself. Points.]

You know Templars? [He quirked a brow at her, expression somewhat flat. He'd prided himself on staying relatively neutral when it came to the mages and templars, save for when Hawke injected herself to the fight. But even he felt an inkling of pity for anyone who got caught up with the worst of the bunch.]

'fraid not, Fang. But if I think of anyone, you'll be the first to know.

Did you say Inquisition? [He's a bit too distracted by that to answer anything else.]

[There are some... unsavory parallels there, to say the least. Perhaps not to his Inquisition, but the first. Enough to make Varric glance away and shift uneasily.]

Where'd you say you came from, anyway?