Hey to all those reading, I haven't updated in a while due to work and schoolwork and as of late, the joy that is Christmas shopping. Enjoy (he said tentatively)…
The knife sank in with sickening ease, sliding in to the hilt. Two more knives joined the primary aggressor, penetrating their target with the same effortless grace as the first. Jason took a swig from the murky liquor he was holding and stood up to retrieve his knives from the block of wood he was using to relieve his foul temperament upon. Varric was slow in providing the maps and schedules necessary for his grim task, Tessa was still debilitated from the botched robbery and truth be told, he was sick of this place. He disliked staying in one place for too long; he only stayed in Cenaria because of Gwen. She had stuck with him when other lesser girls had left and he owed her for that. He'd never admit it to her face though; he'd just lightly tease her and she'd stick her tongue out at him in return. The silence of the room was broken yet again by wood yielding under steel as Jason took another shot and another swig. He had drunk much more than he ever had when things with Tessa had deteriorated and the healers said they couldn't promise she'd last the night, despite the threats Jason had vowed to enact upon them. He had stalked from the room and fell in the nearest tavern and drunk an entire keg, and that's just what he could remember. He'd woken up a day later, with bloody knuckles and a few broken bones. Also, to his concern, he had written, in a drunken stupor, one or two letters he doubted would have been penned had he been sober and capable of heartless feelings that disguised his true emotions for the recipient. Upon discovering them during a brief period of bloodless sobriety, he threw them in the fire with a snarl.
A door closing snapped Jason back to the present, causing his aim to slip and the knife to embed itself in the wall instead of the wooden block. Jason cursed and withdrew his blade as Varric chuckled behind him. "Interrupt your drinking, eh lad?" The assassin glared at the mirthful thief before replying vehemently "Hardly. Now where in the nine hells are those maps and rotas, old man? I assumed you had a shred of competency, but clearly I misremember." To Jason's surprise, Varric's blade whipped to his throat. "You've always been an arrogant son of a bitch but never disrespectful. If it's a harlot that's caused your mood, just forget her, you foul tempered bastard" Varric hissed at Jason who had remained impassive throughout his tirade. He slowly rose to his feet, Varric's sword remaining at his throat. "Don't lecture me about heartache old man. You know nothing of it." Jason smirked as the master thief withdrew the sword from his neck, before his nose broke under Varric's fist. Jason staggered back from the punch, blood dripping from his nose, and shot metaphorical, nearly literal, daggers at Varric. "You arrogant little shit. I've felt the barbs of heartbreak, more than you. I had a wife once. She left and it killed me. That the things you kept from her?" Varric motioned towards a small box, and strode over, ignoring the violent murderer still glaring at him from across the room. "Her and one or two others" Jason spat at him, watching with impotent rage as Varric searched the box. "Some beads, some letters…. You got wrong done, son. At least you aren't stupid enough to make that mistake again eh?" Varric's dark mood seemed to dissipate slightly, as did Jason's. He looked away, and nodded. Varric smiled, "Good. Good. Meet me tomorrow at the edge of the port. I want to show you something lad."
The morning sun blinded Jason as he pushed the horse into a canter out of the port's gates after Varric. The guild master kicked his spurs and his horse broke into a gallop, Jason's followed suit. After an hour's silent ride, they reached a single solitary tower. Varric held out a hand towards the fortification, indicating Jason should investigate. The assassin proceeded to do so, circling the tower before looking back at Varric. "There's no door. No windows. No… nothing" Varric nodded and chuckled. "Let me tell you a story, son. A long time ago, a Godking had a beautiful wife. Cast from the stars, they say she was. But she betrayed him and laid with his chief minister behind his back. This tower was built for a dual purpose." Jason crossed his arms and stared at Varric impatiently. The thief master sat back in his saddle before continuing "The tower was built primarily to cage the Godking's former wife, but it also serves as a warning." Jason turned to look again at the tower, before returning his gaze to Varric. "His woman was unfaithful so he locked her in a tower? What happened to the chief minister? And the warning was not to betray the Godking, correct?" Varric smiled solemnly at Jason. "I remember when you were inquisitive lad. You hardly reached my knee and wanted to know how the entire world worked. It's a good thing you were, made a hell of a thief you did. I bet being able to read and write helped in life, eh lad?" Varric winked at Jason, his wrinkles creasing with his mirth. Jason smiled back and kept his arms crossed. "Yes as grateful as I am for the upbringing you gave me, you didn't answer any of my questions." Varric chuckled quietly, dismounting and striding towards the tower. "That used to be your trump card lad, not mine. Could get away with anything you could. Especially with women eh? Anyway, I suppose I didn't. Yes, Godkings are that petty as to lock up unfaithful wives in inescapable towers for the rest of their lives. That's why they have so many wives, see? And the chief minister, what do you think bloody happened? His head was forcefully and irrevocably separated from his body by the Godking himself. As for the message, look for yourself." Varric pointed towards a plaque hidden in rust and moss. Jason leaned in to look "All ye men who read this message, be wary of the vices of women. They art a plague upon all goodly men, an unholy scourge upon all those they encounter. They be treacherous, unfaithful, traitorous, disloyal, deceitful, perfidious, and only wish for the pleasures of the flesh. They be succubi, blasphemous demons of the sex, epitome of all that be wrong and foul and uncouth in this world."
Jason stood up straight and glanced between his companion and the engraving. "Bloody hell Varric, this Godking was fucking insane." Varric's face was serious; he shook his head at Jason and rested a hand on his shoulder. "He may have been insane and a bit extreme, but he wasn't far off lad. I know you like to treat women nicely boy, and there isn't anything wrong with that but you need to wake up. They aren't quite as bad as the plaque says, but I've lived through life son. Women are inherently deceitful; look at your own past Jason. Look at what women have done for you. Look at what women did to you. Face facts, boy. Never trust anyone, especially women. You'll live longer lad." With that, Varric strode back towards his horse. "I disagree, Varric. Women need looking after, however much they deny it to me, and dedicating your life to the one you love is the noblest thing you can do." Varric turned towards Jason and stared in amused disbelief. "Are you drunk, lad?" Jason laughed quietly, before turning towards his former mentor. "No Varric, I'm not still drunk. Just… contemplative. Besides this is unbecoming of me, and I have my pride to avenge" With a wicked smile, he drew his sword from his scabbard with a hiss of steel on steel. "I believe you broke my nose old man." Varric grinned back and drew his own sword. "You deserved it boy. On the count of three?" The two warriors saluted with their blades before the duel began.
The rain fell on the small battlefield hours later as Varric and Jason remained locked in their mock fight, evenly matched in rare honest combat. Jason feinted right and twisted left into a spinning strike, which Varric blocked with his scabbard, the blow ricocheted away. Jason ducked under an overhead swing and deflected the following series of strikes before lashing back. Their swords flashed like serpents in the downpour, yet still unmarred by blood. Neither man could strike the other, their blades weaving webs of impregnable steel, leaving orbiting trails after the path of their weapons in the shower of rain. Both unleashed their entire repertoire upon the other; leaping strikes, kicks, flips, feints and more, yet neither descended to underhand tactics. After a particularly fierce sequence of clashes they disengaged, breathing heavily. Varric looked up at his foe, and chuckled between gasps. Jason probed his cheek inquisitively, and lifted the tips of his fingers. They were stained crimson with arterial blood, from a shallow cut on his cheek. He smiled and bowed slightly towards Varric. "You fight well for an old man. I didn't know you could duel so well. " Varric bowed back and smiled back towards Jason, sheathing his sword as he did so. "And you don't fight too badly for a soft pup still short in the fang. And you don't last long in charge of a guild of cutthroat greedy bastards without knowing a thing or two." Varric's customary grin was matched by Jason's predatory smirk as they mounted their steeds and set course for home.
They rounded the last corner in the thief-city below the port, only to be confronted by a dense cloud of black smoke and a wall of metal. The tavern and most of the surrounding city was aflame and a standard bearing the device of a cross fluttered against the waves of heat radiating from the blazing inferno. Men wearing all assortments of garments, all festooned with a cross, suddenly pointed their weapons towards Jason and Varric menacingly. The murderer's hand flashed to his pommel, but Varric stayed his companion's violence. "Not now, lad. Fight later, when we can win." With a snarl, Jason followed the old man into one of the labyrinthine alleyways of the thief-city, his hunters in tow. "You're a coward, Varric" Jason hissed as they ran through the shadows. The master thief spat a reply "We couldn't win that fight, you cocky bastard. Besides the tavern was a ruin and we have another safe house we can go to. I'm sure someone grabbed Tessa, lad…" Jason snorted in amusement, and dashed past Varric to leap onto a small bungalow. He began to scale the wall of the nearest building, Varric close behind. "As if I care what happens to a girl, now where's this safe house? And who sold us out?" As they reached the roof of the building, Varric knelt down to catch his breath. "They've been looking for us for a while lad. Looking for you too." Varric wheezed and coughed for a moment before pointing to a small square edifice next to a small waterway, hardly large enough for a medium-sized vessel. "There, lad. We'll regroup there and then take a boat to Scorpion Reef" Jason raised an eyebrow. "Scorpion Reef? You have a stronghold there?" Varric nodded in between gulps of air. "Aye lad. God's arse, I'm too old for this. Right, let's go." Varric straightened up and began to descend down the rooftops towards the safehouse. Jason took a glance back at the burning tavern and its demolishers. He growled a low, menacing growl before leaping from the rooftop and racing across the broken network of streets towards the safe house.
Jason flung the doors open, scattering thieves and beggars as he vaulted onto the nearest table. "Where is this boat?!" He roared at the milling crowd who stood in stunned silence. "I asked you a question. Where. Is. This. Boat. I shall not ask a third time." Jason rested a hand on the pommel of his sword, prompting the crowd to point frantically at his destination. He leapt down from the table, and walked through the doorway. "Is that it, Varric?" The boat – if it even deserved to be called such – was at best three metres long and rested at the end of a small pier, bobbing in the waves of the river, which led out of a cave entrance into the open ocean, and to Scorpion Reef. Jason, not waiting for an answer from Varric, turned and re-entered the safe house. The thieves cowered as he sought out the apocthecarium, with its sign of the serpents and staff. Upon finding it, he ducked through the small doorway and stood looking at Tessa. She was awake and looked back at him with gentle brown eyes. "You're like a bloody kitten…. All soft and fragile and needing me to take bloody care of you. You're a pain, you know that? A bloody pain…" His words s belied his actions as he gently picked her up into his arms and carried her towards the boat. "Does that make you a cuddly little puppy then…?" Tessa closed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him slightly as he handed her to Varric. Suddenly sounds of panic could be heard from the safehouse. Jason swung around, only to witness his pursuers exiting the new scene of slaughter they had left. "Messer Drake, you are charged with a great many crimes against the One God. For this, and by order of our Mistress, you must die." Three of the men suddenly withdrew their crossbows and one fired at Jason. At point-blank range there was no chance of dodging the deadly projectile. The bolt sank in with sickening ease, sliding in half way up the shaft. Two more bolts joined the primary aggressor, penetrating their target with the same effortless grace as the first. Jason snarled like a cornered wolf before falling back into the river with three bolts in his chest, clouding the cold, pure water with his dark blood.