A/N: This was my 1st story, written in 2011, which I considered a try-out. Should have posted before, but better late than never. It's a small quest with alternative end. Constructive feedback is appreciated. Disclaimer: DA2 belongs to Bioware/EA, no infringement intended. Re-posted due to pen-name change.
ISABELA'S QUEST
CHAPTER 1 - RETURNS
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Isabela entered the Hanged-Man and was instantly assaulted by its smells, music, and boastful jesting, snapping her senses to an effervescent state. In one of the heavy wood tables, she spotted Varric surrounded by people listening his heroic tales.
"...tired and bleeding, she stood up, gaining momentum, knowing it could be her last. Then, she lunged forward against the massive Qunari, swinging her sword again, brutally fast, taking all her remaining strength in the attack! In a matter of seconds the blade slashed into the flesh of the leader, a growl escaping through clenched teeth. The Arishok stumbled, sending him to the ground, blood running thick from the deep gash, "...we shall...return.." he warned in his last grunt of pain. All sounds of clattering steel and shrill whistle of swords, were replaced by a deep silence. The few remaining citizens hidden in the hall, slowly moved towards the victorious combatant of that fateful duel, began to clap, and soon, the applause followed. Moments later the Knight-Commander announce Kirkwall had a new Champion!" He finished to the amused, and earnest audience around the table.
"But 'aven't you all fought the Qunari? What 'bout afterwards?" asked a man with a strange accent.
Varric raised his hands "Of course, but doesn't change the fact she defeated him. Afterwards we went home to rest and get rid of the blood. I had this terrible stain in my coat -" he trailed off at the sight of the woman staring back at him. "Oh-ho! If isn't the Queen of the Eastern Seas! I thought I'd never see you again," he greeted gesturing to her to approach, as the crowd dispersed after thanking him for the entertainment.
"You and your stories." Her hips swaying as she approached.
"It's part of my charm Rivaini. So, what's going to be, wine? Whisky?" He offered patting the sit beside him, and waving to Corff, the barman, to bring a bottle.
"Whisky." She sat pleased at the invitation, crossing her legs, and folding one arm along the back of the chair.
"When did you arrive? Stolen any ancient relic lately?" He joked.
Isabela shook her head with a brief smile, "Two days ago, but no relic, sorry to disappoint." Then changing her mood, "Actually, I was hired by a mage to bring him here, but the backstabber bastard disappeared before paying out. And, seems there is another problem…" she paused, while Corff placed the bottle and two mugs on the table.
Varric thanked him, and turned to Isabela, "If there was no problem, wouldn't be you Rivaini. Well let's hear it." He raised his mug, taking a quick gulp of the drink.
Isabela glanced around to ensure the conversation was unobserved, and leaning over the table, "I swear I had no idea, but it seems the staffs he smuggled aboard my ship, had powerful runes to cast blood magic. I know it was wrong of me not check the merchandise, but he offered good coin." She explained in a low voice.
Varric snorted. "Hm, that can't be a coincidence. There's a lot going on lately, apostates and mages disappearing, the Grand Cleric barely controlling the Order, quite a mess. Be careful, you might have guards visiting your ship..." he warned then considered, "Why don't you talk to Aveline and Hawke, they -"
"No!" she protested cutting him off, "I-I don't want to see her, or get her involved, not yet. Let me sort this out first, and get the rest of my payment. When I find anything important I'll talk to them, alright?"
Varric watched her. There's the look of remorse alright. "Suit yourself Rivaini."
After a brief silence, "Besides...she's a legend now, a bloody Champion! I don't want her blaming me if something goes wrong in Kirkwall, especially after what happened with the Qunari." She sadly commented, nervously swallow her drink.
"Nah, Hawke's still the same old -"
"- intrusive, tall, dashing... I never really liked her, all that flailing was just...fun! She's not even my type. She's -"
"Too heroic!" Varric mocked, watching Isabela swinging her glass with a sad expression; was the first time he ever saw her like this.
"Yes!" She then spoke pouring another dose. "And heroic revivals are not really my thing. It's been a long time since I've seen her. Better keep things professional." Again, Varric nodded amused. After an awkward silence "Well, time to go, thank you for the drinks Varric and...the talk." Isabela summoned, walking away in her customary swinging.
"My pleasure! If you need any help, I'm here." He smiled opening his arms wide. Once she left, "And so the plot thickens, this will make a great story someday..."
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Meanwhile in Hightown, Aveline, the trim and muscular Guard-Captain, stood up greeting Hawke professionally when she came in. "Hello Hawke, are you aware of the news?" She began unceremoniously pointing to a chair.
"Hello Aveline. Not really, your guard only said you needed to see me."
Aveline furrowed, her gaze appraising and thoughtful. "One of my sources at the markets, told me a mage arrived a few days ago, bringing some cargo and a staff enhanced with a forbidden rune."
"Forbidden? What do you mean, something about blood magic?
"Rumors says it could torn the Veil, make people cross it physically. And that's not all, I've paid good silvers to get this information...this mage is working with someone planning to destroy the Chantry, maybe another mage or Templar. That might be just what the Knight-Commander needs to end the Circle, or worst."
"Do you think Meredith could trigger a war to impose her control? That's a lot of confidence, or stupidity." Hawke pointed.
Aveline nodded, "Or both! She's becoming hungry for power every day, and she's not willing to share with the Mages. Apparently Anders' clinic is being watched, including few of my guards. I don't know Hawke but there is something…different about her.
"What you intend to do?"
"Track this mage, starting by finding the ship that brought him here. They must have some idea of his whereabouts, or anything."
"Why don't you let me handle this, you and your men shouldn't rise attention, besides I want to talk to Merrill about this rune." Offered Hawke.
The Guard-Captain pondered. "Alright, the last thing I want is Meredith take any action before we do. Maker knows what she's capable of." Extending her hand, "Thank you again Hawke. I will wait for your report, just be careful."
"Aren't I always?" She teased.
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Back to the docks, Isabela looked abhorrently at her new and small ship, anchored at the harbor, the Starflyer. It didn't have the superbly custom-built, the craved wooden ornaments, and massive sails like the Siren's Call, but it was enough to take her whenever she needed.
Once aboard, she stood windward at the deck, contemplating the glowing orange sunset, its soft golden lights bathing her ship and Lowtown docks. But despite the view, Isabela was consumed by a sensation of emptiness. Except for a big boat, she had everything she needed, yet something else was missing. Like an afterthought, Hawke…She still remembered her scent, her tantalizing touch that made her feel full of life, tenderly wakening the heartened woman beneath the pirate. But now...things were different. She had hurt the only person that meant so much to her. After a long sigh, she went inside, descending the stairs the leaded to her cabin. "I need some sleep."
Undressing in front if the window facing the sea, Isabela felt the shivering ocean air. "I'm a pathetic fool". She thought, trying to convince herself that her exuberant past, the thrills, the adventures, the moonlights and kisses, would always be better than any idea of eternal romance. Sliding between the sheets, feeling the tension slip, she was resolute to forget emotional questions, and focus on business. That's a plan!
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Twenty-four long tedious hours passed, and nothing of the mage. Frustrated and bored, Isabela went back to the Hanged-Man, hoping to find some excitement to help her change mood. The atmosphere in the tavern however, wasn't the best either. The animosity between the order and mages, intimidated most costumers, attracting only nearby neighbors. All contributed to Isabela restless mindset, and insolence to criticize anything, especially when the conversation was about a certain Ferelden.
"Why everything has to revolve around the Champion?" Isabela spat leaning against the balcony at the end of the bar. "She's not that exceptional you know! Just another puffed little shit with same in and outs that everybody else!" The Tevinter wine already affection her judgments.
After a few minutes, a hand from behind touched her arm. "Haven't you drank enough Rivaini?" asked a friendly dwarf.
"Oh please, no preaching Varric." she looked at him in disregard, gulping the consoling drink, enjoying the reddish liquid burn its way down her throat.
"Let's talk." He insisted, pointing with his head to a more private table at the corner. Once both sat down, "Did anyone tell you how loathsome you are when you drink?"
"Ah balls! I had a hell of a day, nothing about the mage, or my payment, not even lady-man-hands were in her office. And here I come for fun, and all hear is about the almighty!" Her abrupt scorn a bit more accentuated than times before.
The dwarf shook his head. "Wasn't exactly a bed of roses for her either, all nobles, and patrons called her for every problem -" he paused as Isabela gave him a fuming look in disapproval. Raising his hands, "I'm genuinely sorry for your day, but everybody is having a lot in their plate. Unlike this irresistible dwarf that has news you might find interested." He smirked.
Isabela raised an eyebrow "For your own sake I hope isn't not about that annoying living legend." Who I actually miss, reminded her mind.
"A Gallows' old friend saw a mage negotiating with a captain often seen down in a private dock, he overheard the words Breach, Runes, and Smuggler's cave. Something tells me it isn't a coincidence." Pulling a folded parchment from his coat, and setting on the table, he slid it to Isabela, "map, coordinates, and once advice, whatever you decide, don't do anything stupid alone."
"Thank you Varric, this is a lot more then what I had before, I will get a look...after I get some rest."
"You do that, if you need anything you know where to find me." As soon as Isabela made her hasty retreat out of the tavern, Varric got a piece of parchment, "One day you'll thank me Rivaini..." He muttered to himself, writing a quick note to Hawke about her peevishness and snide comments. "...Could you talk to her? She owns me twenty silvers, and I don't want to bring it with her in this mood. - Varric."
A/N: Though it's an old story, I put effort to write it at the time, reason I decided to share it. I believe my writing style changed a lot since then. Regardless, thank you for taking the time reading it :)