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It's hard to believe now, but we used to be friends, Varric and I. As surface dwellers with complicated relationships to the caste system we had to form our own society. We were, in fact, almost like brothers. I once saved his life. We were on an expedition in search of an uncontacted group of Dalish when our caravan was attacked by qunari rebels. I threw myself between him and an angry horned man with a battleaxe, giving him enough time to kill the guy but nearly slicing my damn arm off. He held my dying body and called me brother, and then the Dalish happened by and healed me. Of course nobody else will give you the full version of the story. Since everybody loves Varric they'll say, oh, Worthy tripped over a tree root and fell on his own sword, but that only proves one thing--that Varric has been out to get me for the longest time now.
Let's get one thing straight: I knew Hawke first. I knew her long before Varric came on the scene, shedding chest hair and acting high and mighty. The two of us were good friends, too, just two rogues having a good time and working for Athenril while she was still getting her footing in Kirkwall. We were quite a pair, the two of us. I made the runes she put in her daggers, and she went out and killed people with them. Over time we started to grow closer. This wasn't entirely surprising. See, ladies have a thing for a bearded man. A real beard, I mean, not some scruffy prickles that a female could grow if she put her mind to it. Initially I waved it off as a childish infatuation, Hawke being so much younger than I was, but over time I came to realize that she was a remarkable human and that nobody else knew quite what a gem she was.
And then, of course, there's Varric.
He got her attention with some trick shot or something on a pickpocket, which I could have done if I hadn't been busy making runes for her like a proper craftsman should--instead of like Varric "I'm an Artificer" Tethras who only made one crossbow in his entire life and then gave up--and I'm not saying that Hawke is simple or easily wooed, but understandably she was impressed with this guy who helped her. Then he roped her into that disasterous Deep Roads expedition. I agreed to come along because she was my friend and he was sort of my friend and the three of us liked having money, natch. But that was when it all went bad. They got separated from the rest of us somehow and something happened that nearly got Hawke's sister killed, but Hawke's a good person, even if she does forgive too easily.
Then he introduced her to the Feddics, that bastard.
I'm a reasonable dwarf. I know that Sandal's a good kid--scary good, and, if for some reason you sneak up behind him with a knife, scary scary--and Bodhan does his best. But Hawke and I were friends, Stone damn it all, and we had a good thing going until Varric butted his stupid head in. I was out one of my best customers, and suddenly she was spending all this time with Varric, and of course the whole time he's stringing her along when we all know he's still carrying a torch for that girl Bianca.
Anyway, I tried my best to be the bigger dwarf.
Transcriptionist's note: see testimony of Bodhan Feddic. "Bigger dwarf" evidently means something completely different to Ser Worthy.
But of course that's not all, because it's never all when you're talking about Varric. One day he shows up at my place all smiles and roses, wanting to make amends, or so I thought. I was writing at the time, which I've done for years. I never did it commercially, just to amuse myself and my friends, but he saw what I was doing and asked what I was writing about. I told him the truth--it was about a guard in Hightown trying to solve mysteries among the rich and powerful--and he got this look on his face. Imagine my surprise a few months later when I open up the paper and what do I see, the first installment of something called "Hard in Hightown." And as I read it I realize it's my story! Just dumbed down for a drooling public!
Oh, I was furious. But I still was the bigger dwarf, and I said nothing. It was simple enough to write my own masterwork--"Hard in Hightown 2: The Re-Punchening," available for purchase most places where books are sold, and then I sat back to see whose story would be better accepted. Except of course I couldn't even do that, could I? Varric, clearly upset at my superior writing skills, framed me for framing him for murder, which is why I stand before you today, Your Inquisitorialness, to show how spurious and insane these charges are. Perhaps the worst part of this is that I was working on "Hard in Hightown 3: Ravic's Revenge" at the time of my arrest, which will now never see the light of day. Fortunately, the guards who arrested me promised to keep hold of the draft, and I understand they have become quite a devoted fanbase for the "Hard in Hightown" sequels, and I have no doubt they will continue to read my work with the dignity I always intended.
Anyway, I trust that Your Inquisitorialness will see through Varric's convoluted stories about "being framed ineptly for murder" and "being stalked by a maddwarf" and such and serve justice as it was meant to be served: cold and unyeilding. I rest my case.
Transcriptionist's note: Worthy was found guilty by Inquisitor Cadash. He immediately attempted to stab the Inquisitor, and as the guards hauled him to the dungeon he began to vigorously blame Varric for causing him to snap. Spurious and insane, indeed.