Antiva City, widely known throughout Thedas as the trading capital, it's the home to the finest wine and spices... as well as deadly assassins. The line of work is alluring to pursue. It will never die, in fact there's a high demand for assassins. Antivan Crows have a strong influence their homeland. They are always seeking for recruits, but only few are cunning and skilled enough to live a life of pleasure and comfort.

The capital nation of Antiva is large coast line city alongside the Rialto Bay. Its narrow rocky pathways are treated like highways. They're spread along the city's cliff. High or low, it doesn't matter which pathway a local goes. They'll get to their destination eventually. It may seem like a maze, but every road is connected in one way or another. Only those who live on the streets know the short cuts.

Ships from all over the continent dock to experience the seaside market and lucrative culture. The port city is rich from traveler coin and jewels harbored from rubies and diamonds mines. It's the perfect opportunity to expand a business or start one.

Others wish to see the romantic ambiance side. Flowers are always in bloom. They can be seen from any hill top for miles in different shades of yellow, pink and purple. Scenery is not the only thing easy on the eyes.

The men and women of Antiva are favored by the sun, and it pampers them with warm and lovable kisses. They have gorgeous radiate looking skin, and natural highlights their hair. Much like the city, the people here are exotic and charming. Spontaneous and charismatic, Antivans are found irrespirable, especially to foreigners. It keeps the brothels in good business.

It's the only city that can offer a chance to flirt with beautiful women and death. And depending who runs into who, it can very well be both.

The architecture is very similar to Italy during the medieval times, with its narrow streets and river canals. The buildings are made tall and out of sturdy stone that can withstand the often rainy weather.

I walk between these said buildings, down a narrow path that leads down to the port with nothing but a personal sack hanging over my shoulder. I take a short cut down an alley way that I've taken many times before, careful with the seep stairs. I'm greeted by the sunny rays the moment I step out from the shadows. There is no cloud in sight in the blue sky, and a slight breeze caresses my face. Definitely prefect weather for sailing and the ships agrees. I notice more than usual coming in and out from the port. I stare in awe for a moment, overwhelm with the crowd of people.

The port usually reaches its busiest peak in midafternoon. Buzzing with nobles and commoners alike to get a sneak peek of the latest shipments that's been brought across the sea, and the merchants know this. They draw them in with their advertise shouting. I squeeze pass each person as I walk through seaside market.

The smell of rotten fish, spices, and leather gets stronger the closer I get to the docks. A whiff of freshly grounded herbs stops me at a halt. Elfroot has a distinct scent, something I can't describe well, especially comparing it to Earth's plant life. It's a hardy herb, the nature of it is close to spinach. A stall nearby is displaying a batch along with other spices. I recognize many of them, cinnamon, rosemary, nutmeg, ginger, black pepper, and chili pepper.

I stare at them longer than I should have. The merchant who owns the stall greets me, "You have an eye for quality."

I pat the sack of coin I have tied to my waist. All the slivers I ever earned since I've arrived in Thedas.

"Could I get small sack of each?"

His mouth stretches ear to ear, I never seen a grin so big. He says to me, "Of course!"

The impulse buy practically depleted my savings, but it' worth every cent. They will be needed where I'm going.

The heated sun is at its highest. I quickly stuff the spice pouches in my bag and return making my way to the docks. Men are scattering to secure their large trading ships, tying them to wooden posts with thick heavy ropes. This is my first visit in months to the docks, and frankly I remember why I don't visit often. The sight of a busy crowds and smell of rotten sea life (take how you will) can turn away anyone.

Walking through a cramp path, I'm bound to brush shoulders with people, but I nearly get shove off boardwalk. I glare at the bulky sleeveless men passing by, but keep the cursing to myself. Most sailors are either raiders or pirates, and either is not afraid to start trouble.

I stand in front of carrack ship. It's constructed purposely for long ocean travel with its large square-rigged sails. I've only seen manifest vessels like these in history textbooks or in movies. Men are running back and forth on the top desk and climbing on the shrouds to prep the sails.

"You actually showed up."

I look up to see a woman leading her body over the railing. Her skin and hair are darker than most of the locals here, Rivaini I believed she called her ethic race. Her bottom lips is pierced, and so are her ears, and shows them off by wearing large gold circular earrings that dangle off her lobes and a matching ball piercing in the center of her full dark lips. Her neck piece covers her entire neck and part of her collarbone, and a large green jewel at the center of her throat.

Seeing her face triggers the memories of last night.

The tavern was full house with visiting adventures and regulars. Just from a distance, I knew she was a pirate as she smelt of salt and seaweed. The Rivaini woman was accompanied by a large group of men. I can only assume they were her crewmates.

"There are a few empty tables in the back," I was the first to greet them. "I'll be right there with some ale."

Their wide eyed gawking didn't go unnoticed.

Lustful stares were something I grew accustomed to as my work uniform is essentially lingerie. The uncomfortably tight corset tucked in my rolls of fat and lifted my breast, making them appear bigger than they actually were. High thigh stocking were attached to my bottom leather shorts with thin straps. Patrons found my thick thighs and massive wide hips, dare I say, desirable. The standards of beauty was contrastive than the modern life I'm from. It has attracted many interesting people to the tavern, including Claudio Valisti, the Prince of Crows. He was not of royal blood, but he was a very influential merchant and the people treated him as such. He ravished me in compliments and silver coins. He paid me to keep him company all night long, a handsome man, but much too old for my taste.

I took care of the customers I was currently waited on before returning to the group of newcomers with mugs of ale. They got themselves situated on the pillow seats layered in dust.

I couldn't stay for long as other customers were calling for me to take their drink orders.

I made my rounds twice around the tavern refilling drinks before returning the pirates. Though, I wasn't missed. They roared in laughter and clanked their mugs together, enjoying the laid-back atmosphere.

Because of the noise level from the crowd, I had to yell to talk over the chattering surrounding us. "Are we going to stick with ale all night? Or are we in the mood for something else?"

"Depends," The woman's sultry voice rained over the customers. "Is a pretty thing like you on the menu?"

I rolled my eyes. The pickup line wasn't new, but kept my plaster smile. "Ask for the dazzle eye special. Guarantee, you'll see pretty spots for days."

The pirate found amusement in my threat. She rolled her back to laugh. "What's your name, sweetness?"

"They call me Queenie."

"I'm Isabela, and these are my men." She extended her hand towards them for introduction. I met with each face, and they stare right back at me with acknowledgement. "Serve them whatever they want." Her men cheered. "And I'll have whatever you recommend."

Instinctively, my eyebrow arched upward. "You sure?"

Isabela nodded as she leaned forward on the table. She relaxed her shoulders and rested her chin on one hand. The pirate's sly smile was a sign she embraced new and unknown experiences with open arms.

That level of confidence was attractive, and I was drawn to it, like a moth towards a flame. I found myself twirling a loose strand of hair between my fingers.

Not many leave impressions on me, my lips tugged upward into a smirk. I looked towards the bar, and the owner was cleaning a mug out with a rag. He lifted his head and glanced in my direction just as I hoped.

I yelled at the top of my lungs. "I got someone wanting Queenie's Fireball!"

Howls and whistles were made, and the tavern owner rolled his eyes. However, he gave me permission to use his bar with a nodding gesture.

"Don't take your eyes off me." I winked.

Isabela raised an eyebrow. One of her men sitting next to her, a pale elf wearing nothing but a leather vest, nudged the woman in a teasing manner. The rest of them snickered. On that note, I left the table and made my way towards the bar.

Eyes were on me as I gathered what I needed.

It was a hobby of mine to make specialty drinks. Fireball Whiskey was one of the few cocktails I missed having, and tried to replicate the recipe from memory. It took me months to perfect something close to it. It was whiskey with freshly squeezed oranges and a dash of Antivan wine and cinnamon. I twirled the wine bottles in my hands, and occasionally tossed them in the air. It was a treat for the whole tavern to witness my skills from previous bartending, and that made for good tips.

I received a round of applause from patrons.

The lady pirate loved my little party trick. She was grinning from ear to ear when I brought the drink to her. Isabela ordered two more of the same cocktail throughout the night.

"Could I entice you to leave this tavern and sign up as one of my crewmen?" She grabbed my hand and placed her smiling lips on my fingers, doused them in feathery kisses. "I could use someone as dexterous as you."

I felt the heat of my cheeks burning as I laughed. "I didn't think bartending was a skill worthy of piracy."

"My ship needs someone... tentative."

I wasn't sure which ship she was referring to.

The alcohol began to affect her. Isabela talked my ear off with flirts and her sea adventures. She was a captain, she told me, and owned a ship named the Siren's Call. Captain Isabela has sailed every ocean surrounding Thedas, and visited almost every country. I had never step foot outside of the city's borders. I started to day dream being on a ship, imagining the ocean breeze blowing in my face.

I was brought back to present with an arm snaking around my waist.

With my experience, grabby hands tend to roam. I was ready to break her fingers, but much to my surprise, Isabela's hand didn't wandered. It never went below my waist line.

"You've been to Orlais?" I asked curiously.

"Once or twice," She took a slip of the Fireball cocktail before she continued. "Spent some time in a prison in Val Chevin."

"What crime put you there?"

Isabela scoffed. "None, broke into it, actually," She shoved the blonde elf next to her lightly. The action made him spill some of his ale from his mug. She gained his full attention now, but he was clearly unamused. His expression was dull. There was no way to crack his lined frown. "They threw my first mate in there. Had to get his ass out."

She pestered him as she recited every detail of that night. I was encouraged to join them at the table as the story would a long one. Her first mate loosen up, shook his head at a few telling parts. I could only assume were dramatically embellished. Briefly, he cut in to tell his side. He was just as witty as his captain.

The elf would close eyes to recall the memory and smirked. "I was honestly surprised when she showed up in front of my cell."

"I'd always liked you, Casavir, I wasn't going to just abandon you."

Casavir tilted his head, and his eyebrows scrunched forward. "You left me at the dock."

Isabela dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Details. I came back." And she chugged the rest of her drink.

I grew envious of her travel stories. It wasn't terrible working as a tavern maid. I get a roof over my head and a belly full of food twice a day. The brothel around the corner owns a communal bath, so up keeping hygiene wasn't an issue. All my comforts and needs were here, but I didn't want to be here for the rest of my days here in Thedas. I would like to get back to my modern world. I had no leads on how I came to be here. I woke up one morning and, BOOM, I was suddenly in the outskirts of Anvita City.

I came to a conclusion long ago that magic would have to play some part in my journey home. The Circle here in this country...is more of a rumor. It is said a Circle of Magi exist, but its location is unknown to those who have no business there. People who visit are either sworn to secrecy or don't remember exactly where it was.

It was a hard pill to swallow, but the next place to look for answers would be in Tevinter.

A trip to a country governed by mages was possibly one of my worse ideas to come up with. On the other hand, what better place could I go to for magic help? I could easily find a brilliant scholarly mind or two to help enlighten my situation. The challenge would be finding said brilliant mind that didn't practice blood magic and/or own slaves. My stomach couldn't handle such arrogance.

But to do anything, something as expensive as traveling, it would take money and lots of it. After working in this establishment for two years, I had never come to saving up a merely sovereign.

"Have you ever been to Tevinter?"

"No." Isabela said flatly. "And I won't because there is nothing worth going there. Ever."

I hummed as I reached for her empty mug. "And if someone were to sway you?"

She laughed; it was loud and so carefree. The alcohol in her system had her slur. "Better have barrels of wine and a chest full of silver up front before I consider docking at their port."

Casavir leaned closer to me across the table. "She might change her mind for a goat." He was joking of course, but Isabel resented him obnoxiously due to her drunkenness.

"You were there, I never asked for that goat!"

"Just like the fire was accidental?"

"Yes!"

The small banter went over my head, but the men that overheard the conversation snickered, and I laughed along with them. In my line of work, it was not unusual to form bonds with patrons. What was rare was talking about me to complete strangers. I spilled my own stories to Isabela and her crewmen. I confessed that I have an interest in studying stars constellations. This was something even the girls I worked with didn't know, and I consider them friends.

Throughout the night, Isabela mentioned to me her offer multiple times and kissed my fingers every time she did so. It was difficult tell if she was being earnest when I knew she had one too many drinks, but she kept herself together. Her seductive smile made it tempting to say yes. Just as before they left, Casavir had told where the Siren's Call was the dock.

I frown when I was speaking to the elven first mate, "Her...offer wasn't a serious one?"

He shrugged. "Won't know 'til you come by tomorrow."

I slept so little, thinking about what he said over and over. I paced around my bedroom, and before I knew it, I was shoving my clothes in a small sack that I kept under the bed. I counted all the coin I had, then counted again to make sure.

Come day break, I met with the tavern owner to quit my job.

And now here I am...

My ears begin to heat from nervousness, and my heart pounding against my rib cage.

I smile to distract to her from any visible blushing, "You offered."

She chuckles. "I was drunk when I made you the offer."

"So you're saying it's not good?"

"Now, I didn't say that." Isabela walks down the loading board of her ship to greet me. There's a sway to her hips as she walk. She wears a small white... dress? It leaves a little to the imagination. It's short enough to be considered a tunic, and lace tightly around her torso showing off her figure and breast. Her thigh length leather boots cover her legs like pants. Over her outfit is a long blue trench coat.

Isabela's eyes travel up and down my body. Her eyes roam over my shoulder and notice the bag I'm carrying. The bag that holds my spices, as well as of my belongings I obtain since arriving in Thedas, which is not much. "You're really sure about this?"

I haven't felt this sure in a long time.

I nod and my smile grows, beaming with confidence. "Definitely."

The corner of her lip lifts into a smirk, "Then welcome aboard, sweetness."


Author's Note:

This was a prompt on Tumblr, and for the life of me can't find it. It is buried in reblogs, but it came from was something like Dragon Age Modern Character Week? Hosted some time in last August. I'm blanking on One Flip in Ferelden, so I wrote something else, a distraction... and that didn't work out. So this was a distraction to my distraction! I never romanced Isabela in Dragon Age 2, and I'm starting to ask myself why? I'm going to fix that.