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He'd slipped out of Hawke's room and spoke with Anders in a quiet voice. It had been ridiculously (irrationally) difficult leaving her in even his capable hands, but Varric had scratched at the back of his neck, called himself six kinds of fool, and put one foot in front of the other.
He had work to do. He had to check the rations of food now that more and more people were showing up, and he needed to check in on Isabela, and check in with the Inquisitor, and...
...and apparently find himself walking right into an eluvian between one step and the next, because his life wasn't weird enough already.
The world he found himself in was just plain weird. It was full of people who seemed like the ones he knew--including a version of himself!--but different. He wasn't a dwarf there, for one, and Fenris was some strange species known as a...hipster? There were boxes called laptops and snapchat and MMORPGs and all kinds of things he was both fascinated and repulsed by.
Time passed. When he stepped out of the coffee shop (kind of like a bar, only completely useless) and onto the sidewalk...and found himself back in the familiar stone room that housed the eluvian...all Varric could do was sigh with relief.
"Well, thank the Maker," he muttered, immediately grabbing his journal. It had been weeks. Who knew what kind of stunts Hawke had pulled while he was gone.
He had work to do. He had to check the rations of food now that more and more people were showing up, and he needed to check in on Isabela, and check in with the Inquisitor, and...
...and apparently find himself walking right into an eluvian between one step and the next, because his life wasn't weird enough already.
The world he found himself in was just plain weird. It was full of people who seemed like the ones he knew--including a version of himself!--but different. He wasn't a dwarf there, for one, and Fenris was some strange species known as a...hipster? There were boxes called laptops and snapchat and MMORPGs and all kinds of things he was both fascinated and repulsed by.
Time passed. When he stepped out of the coffee shop (kind of like a bar, only completely useless) and onto the sidewalk...and found himself back in the familiar stone room that housed the eluvian...all Varric could do was sigh with relief.
"Well, thank the Maker," he muttered, immediately grabbing his journal. It had been weeks. Who knew what kind of stunts Hawke had pulled while he was gone.
