A Wolf By Any Other Name

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"So Aveline walks over to the leader of the mercs, kicks him in the head, and says 'And that's what you get for disrespecting my city.'" Donnic looked around proudly. "Isn't she wonderful?"

"Wonderful," Hawke said. She smiled at her friend, who was doing her best to hide behind Donnic. Aveline was uncomfortable with her pursuit of duty being framed as heroism, and Donnic never tired of telling tales of his wife's deeds.

"Seriously, loverboy, didn't my talk on storytelling conventions sink into your thick head?" Varric gestured with his mug for emphasis. "It would have been a much better punchline if—"

He was interrupted by a loud clearing of the throat behind him. Hawke looked up over the dwarf's shoulder to see an expensively armored man standing there. She noticed a group of similarly equipped men by the Hanged Man's front door. "Excuse me, is one of you Serah Hawke?" the man asked in a heavily accented voice; Antivan, if Hawke had to guess. His gaze traveled over them all, dismissing Merrill, focusing briefly on Aveline, and then moving in Hawke's direction.

She waited until his eyes met hers before nodding. "I'm Hawke. And you are?"

"Nuncio Caldera Lanos, at your service."

Hawke somehow doubted that he was here to do any services for her. It was entirely the opposite, she suspected. "What can I do for you?"

"Ah, you are Fereldan. I forget how ... direct your countrymen can be." It wasn't a compliment. "Perhaps we can repair to somewhere more quiet?"

Over Nuncio's shoulder, Hawke glimpsed Isabela at the bottom of the stairwell. The pirate melted back into the shadows, watching the Antivan.

"There's nothing you can say that won't be shared with my team later. And I'm afraid I'm not in the habit of going into the back rooms of the Hanged Man with strangers," she said. Next to her, Fenris folded his arms over his chest and glared up at the Antivan.

"I see. In that case, I will be blunt. My men and I are in search of a very dangerous elf—a murderer." If he expected the word to cause a sensation he was in the wrong group of people, and entirely the wrong part of Kirkwall. "This man has killed ... many people. Including some children. And a dog." Nuncio looked at Hawke hopefully, clearly counting on the Fereldan affection for dogs to get the shocked reaction he was looking for.

She decided not to disappoint him. "A dog? That's horrible!"

"Yes." Nuncio nodded with satisfaction. "You can see why such a man must not be allowed to remain free."

"I certainly can. But what do you need me for? Surely such well-equipped men as you are can handle one murderer." She was impressed by her friends' poker faces. Only Donnic was smirking, the others remaining stony-faced, although she could see the twinkle in Varric's eyes and the slight uplift of Fenris's eyebrow.

"As well we could," Nuncio blustered. "But in this case ..." He came closer, speaking more quietly. "He has hidden himself among the Dalish, which is one place we cannot follow." His eyes drifted to Merrill and over Fenris and back to Hawke. "I have heard that you have connections with the Dalish."

A brief flash of white appeared at the bottom of the stairwell, as Isabela turned and went back up. Hawke wondered what was going on there—she decided to get rid of this buffoon quickly and find out what Isabela knew. She turned back to Nuncio. "You want me to use my connections with the Dalish to find and capture your killer."

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