Before long, that night's inhabitants of the Herald's Rest got back to doing what they were doing, and the minstrel began another song; a catchy light-hearted tune about a woman named Sera. Some people laughed and clapped along, but most everybody just got back to drinking. He listened for awhile, content to soak it all in and let his mind drift, still barely believing that he was even sitting there in the first place. A low rumble from the table brought him back to the present. The big qun'ari was chuckling at something Varric had said. "What did I miss?" He said, grinning big.
Iron Bull looked coolly down at him through slitted eyes, appraising him for a moment. He felt as though the big man knew everything there ever was to know about him in that moment. He swallowed and kept a pleasant smile on his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Varric watching the two of them with his own knowing smile. He'd seen this before, that smile said. The dwarf held up three fingers in the direction of the bar, signaling for more drinks.
Iron Bull finally placed both hands flat on the table, leaned in close so that their faces were just inches apart, and said somewhat menacingly, "What exactly are you doing here?"
"Uh, well," He coughed. "I came here ostensibly to be a part of the Inquisition. I figured I couldn't just show up, you know? That I had to bring something to the table, so to speak."
Varric snorted. Bull glanced briefly over but otherwise never moved. "Sure," he smiled. "I get it. We're established now. We're big-time. We don't take just anybody anymore. So... what do you bring to the table?"
Even Varric leaned in, curiosity too much to deny, as he reached into his pack and pulled out a seemingly normal looking eating utensil. A perfectly ordinary looking spoon, with three evenly-spaced notches cut out of the end. With a flourish, he held it up in front of the big qun'ari and with his most mellifluous voice, said, "Gentlemen, I give you... the spork!"
Varric raised his eyebrows, clearly waiting for more, but he said nothing else. A moment passed. "That's it?" He asked. "A spoon?"
"Not just a spoon, sir! A spoon and a fork together in one utensil!"
Bull leaned back and then, quicker than the eye could follow, snatched the spork ouf of his hand. He looked it over, turning it this way and that, miming eating motions. He exchanged another glance with Varric, who was still sitting there, mouth slightly open, eyebrows raised, speechless for once. Bull held up the spork and called out to the corner he'd emerged from earlier. "What d'you think, Dalish? Use this for magic?"
A beatiful blonde elf, vallaslin shining slightly in the torchlight, poked her head up and peered at them a moment before disappearing back into the crowd with an exasperated, "How should I know?"
Those she was sitting with roared laughter. Varric and Bull roared laughter. People all around them roared laughter. The bartender cracked a smile. The mintrel's voice almost cracked on a note. Almost. Our hero could only turn red and try to shrink out of sight. Just then the barmaid arrived with their ales. Bull pulled her onto his lap and held up the spork for her inspection. "What do you think of this?"
She just rolled her eyes at him and danced away to serve someone else as the two men roared laughter again. Varric was wiping tears from his eyes when he regained control of himself and looked at his new friend for a moment. Then he sighed. "Look, kid. It's just a spoon. A spoon," he added, palm up to stop the inevitable retort. "Okay, here's how it is-"
"Weren't you telling the story about how I saved Harold's life? Get on with that instead, why don't you?" Bull grinned toothily. "We'll sort this fool out tomorrow."
Varric never needed to be told twice to continue a story. "You saved his life, huh? All right. Where was I?"
"Fr-frostback Basin," the young man stammered, happy the subject had changed. "The rift?"
"Right. The rift. You had to understand, this was the first time Harold had been on a proper adventure since the Seeker left him. Left us. He was a little rusty."
Bull snorted. "A little."
------------
The adventure begins with Harold and the crew back in camp after closing that rift. I had to take Harold back to the Black Emporium and fix that overbite. Can't really tell how well it worked yet, because I haven't gotten any good screenies of him saying anything. 
While in camp, they paid one last visit to professor Kenric.
Professor Kenric offered some more insight into Ameriden, and how they might go about tracking down some clues. An island, an Avvar village and some Tevinter belt buckles. Wait, what?
Harold would still rather be drinking back home, but... to work.
Harold and Dorian take in the view of Cloudcap Lake
Competition for most 'Inquisition's Most Broody' is
on!
Seagulls in flight... seagulls by a lake?
Okay.
That better not be the requisitions officer out here, dammit.
Broody In Silhouette, by Spork, Dragon 9:45(ish)
Bull: Hey boss? You might want to look at this.
Bull: He doesn't look so bad from here. Kinda... small.
How small is that big rock he's gonna drop on your head, you great horned oaf?
Giant kinda looks like he stepped in some tenderized Bull maybe? Ew.
The fight continues as Harold and Dorian get a little closer.
Giant smash. Giant freeze. Punies die.
One
Leaping Shot later and Harold is safe. Everyone else?
Your honour, the prosecution would like to present exhibit A into evidence. A sequence of four screenshots, taken a mere five seconds apart. They will show, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the giant is cheating.
The Inquisitor is
On Fye-AH 
But he pays for it when the giant drops that rock on his head
Blackwall plays the hero and leaves the fight to rescue Harold.
Check it out. It's the requisitions officer lending a hand!
Your honour. For rebuttal, the defense would like to present Exhibit B into evidence. We hired our own,
unbiased, photographer to take a series of screenshots. Taken a mere six seconds apart,
these will show that the giant did not, in fact, cheat. Instead, its special attack generates a massive, damaging shockwave. It was this which killed Mr. Parvus.
Look at that big evil grin aimed directly at Harold just before he stomps Bull flat
The fight continues. Harold does another Leaping Shot, and down goes Bull.
Bull almost made it to the end though, as the giant finally died soon after.
------------
Varric sat back and laced his fingers behind his head. "After that, the boys limped their way back to camp to rest up and restock on potions, before returning to the adventure."
Bull looked a little dubious as he signaled for more ale. "Are you
sure that's how it happened? I don't remember it that way."
A tall man with a long black beard and hair, dressed impeccably in shining grey warden armor, stepped up to the table and slapped Bull on the back. "You don't rmember it because you'd been stomped flat. I heard the whole thing from over by the door, and that's
exactly how it happened. I've still got the scars to prove it."
Bull stood up and embraced the man, lifting him, armor and all, off his feet. "Good to see you, Thom!" He bellowed, ignoring the man's struggles to free himself.
The young spork enthusiast's jaw hit the table. "Is that...???"
Varric leaned in and smiled, "you know, kid, if you're going to be one of us, you're really gonna have to stop doing that," before turning to the others and yelling something about finishing a story.
------------
Tune in next time and journey with Harold travelling to an Avvar village on the trail of the Ameridan, the first Inquisitor
EDIT: With thanks, to writing friends
Retour en haut
'Fired... So f***ing fired!' Demetria glowered in her many unpleasant thoughts. (Well, Deme can't really fire them, because they're permanent members of the Inquisition and Bull is her boyfriend. She could come up with alternate punishments 
)
![=]](https://lvlt.forum.bioware.com/public/style_emoticons/default/sideways.png)
...and thank you 
