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The Hanged Man was home.
Varric would say it to anyone who asked. Gambling, ale, fighting, and demons. For all it's flaws (and smells) The Hanged Man was home. And like anyone coming home after a prolonged time away (he loved Hawk, really he did. But it would be nice to have a month where he could spend every night actually sleeping in an actual bed) there where surprises waiting for him.
Of all the things Varric expected to see in The Hanged Man (and he had seen alot) he had never thought he would see this. Isabela losing all her money.
Not a little, even Hawk had been able to win the odd hand off of Rivaini, but Varric had never seen her loose ALL her gold.
From what Varric could see, and by the large pile of coins on the opposite side of the table, that is what Isabela had lost to the old man she was playing cards with.
By the old man's side was the kid Varric would occasionally see hanging around Fenris. As nice as it was to know that Broody had a friend, the kid was a ghost. Varric had barely been able to learn the kid's name. And that was from Fenris. Jack Frost was some one no one knew anything about.
Except, maybe, the old man that was currently wining the pants off Isabela.
As Varric got closer he could hear the old man was apparently telling stories. Embarrassing ones going by Isabela's laughter and the kid's groaning.
"North, please stop." Jack begged. He looked like he wanted to sink into the floor.
"No, please continue." Varric laughed. "Frostbite never talks about himself."
The old man, North, seemed overly amused by Varric's nickname for the kid.
"Hello my friend! Nicholas St. North." The old man held out a hand that looked like it could engulfed Varric's head. When Varric took the hand he could feel the callouses common for an Artificer. Or a thef. "You are Varric Tethras. Jack tells me you are a storyteller."
"I know a tale or two." Varric shared a look with Isabela. "Mind if I cut in?"
Isabela spread her arms wide. "Please. I need someone to lose to me if I am going to buy ale tonight."
Varric made his way to his seat. Jack did not have any cards. The kid never gambled, preferring games where no one lost, but always seemed happy to watch. Varric eyed the tidy pile of coin in front of North and considered. If North had stories to tell of Fenris's little friend, Varric did not mind loosing a bit of coin. He was no stranger to paying for information after all.