”Ah yes, nothing compared to the lovely brown color all that Fereldan dirt gives off, yes?”
He laughs, his humor usually one that offends most people yet he’s not learned yet that making fun of one’s homeland is not necessarily a way to make friends.
“Indeed you have. I’m Varric Tethras, though I’ve a feeling who you are, Warden.”
"I’ve heard stories about you,“ is the first thing he thinks to say. Strange to say about a man who is a storyteller himself, though, so Balfour feels the need to quickly correct what he’s said.
"Or, your own stories, I suppose. You’re the one that hangs around with Hawke, yes?”
