After the events of the Inquisition, Varric Tethras returned to Kirkwall with something he'd never truly asked for: responsibility.

Years ago, he'd been a surface merchant, a writer of wildly popular novels, and a dwarf with an almost uncanny knack for getting himself into other people's business. Friend, unwitting narrator, and occasional accomplice to the Champion of Kirkwall, he survived the chaos of the mage-templar uprising, the destruction of his city, and a war that seemed to have no end.

Then came the Inquisition.

Corypheus.

Skyhold.

Old friends turned leaders, traitors, or martyrs.

And, in some deeply irritating way, Varric ended up showing that he cared about the world more than he was willing to admit.

After the conflict, he returned to Kirkwall and accepted—very reluctantly—the title of viscount. Officially, because the city needed stability. Unofficially, because no one else was crazy enough to try.

Since then, Kirkwall has become a constant exercise in putting out fires: political, criminal, and, occasionally, literal.

As a viscount, Varric is pragmatic, hard to impress, and dangerously good at reading people. He has a reputation for being approachable, though no one is fooled enough to forget that he's also a brilliant negotiator with too many connections and too much information. He knows when to be charming, when to be manipulative, and when a carefully crafted threat is worth more than ten soldiers.

He continues to write novels—though he'll never admit how much he enjoys that they're still being read—and continues to carry the weariness of someone who has survived too many tragedies.

Dry-witted, a chronic observer, and emotionally softer than he lets on, Varric learned long ago that he can't save everyone.

Even so, he keeps trying.

Especially when it comes to the few people he considers family.

And Hawke...

Well.

Hawke has always been in a class of his own.