Abigail came to meet Varric about the job he’d mentioned. She went to the Hanged Man, as usual.
“So,” Abigail said, sitting down next to Varric at his normal table. “You told me there was someone who would pay me for something. In the future, I would appreciate more details.”
“Isabela, over there,” Varric pointed. “She could do with a hand.” Abigail looked where he pointed.
A human woman sat at the bar, looking generally displeased with life. She had a pair of wickedly sharp daggers strapped to her back, and long brown hair bound back with a blue bandanna. She wore a rather dangerous amount of jewelry for someone lurking in the Hanged Man—a gleaming necklace and a pair of matching earrings.
“Are you quite sure?” Abigail asked.
“Pretty sure. She had some bad dealings with someone she was trying to get information from—maybe we'll be better.”
“Alright, come on then,” Abigail jerked her head and she and Varric went over to Isabela.
“Back again, Varric?” Isabela said. She looked Abigail over and gave a smile. “Now—she's someone who might get things done.”
“You have that little faith in me?” Varric said with a grin.
Isabela raised her eyebrows. “Let's just say I trust actual mercs over businessmen who want to be mercs and leave it at that, alright?”
“I am not a merc,” Abigail said.
“And I don't want to be one,” Varric said.
Isabela shrugged. “Did Varric tell you what I needed?”
“No.” Abigail frowned at Varric.
“Typical.” Isabela sighed and put down her mug. She turned around to face them fully and leaned back against the bar. “Someone hired me to grab a relic for him. I lost it, and he's going to be very, very upset when he finds out about that.”
“A relic?” Abigail asked. “What kind of relic?”
Isabela waved a hand. “Don't worry about it. Probably at the bottom of the ocean by now...” she tutted to herself. “Anyway, no one I hired was able to find it, and neither was I. Which means I need to deal with Hayder myself.”
“And what do you need us for?” Abigail asked.
“Backup. My crew all abandoned me when the ship sank, cowardly bastards...” she scowled for a moment, her honey-colored eyes glinting dangerously. “Anyway, I'm not going to go against Hayder and his band of idiots alone, because I know he won't play fair.”
“If you can pay us, we'll do whatever you wish,” Abigail said.
“Just the two of you, or are there more?”
Abigail and Varric looked at each other.
“We could probably wrangle Junior and Sunshine...” Varric said.
“We do have some...new friends, though,” Abigail said. She thought for a minute. “Maybe Merrill would help out.”
“Why?”
“She needs money too, doesn't she?”
Varric shrugged. “I dunno, she doesn't seem like the fighting type...”
“You saw her fight on the mountain.”
“That doesn't mean it's a good idea.”
“What about Anders or the others?”
“Alright, enough,” Isabela held up her hands. “So you have a whole band of idiots too—good to hear.”
“They are not idiots.” Abigail said.
“Anders and Nathaniel do voluntarily live in Darktown,” Varric reminded her.
Abigail considered that. “Well, yes, they do.” she shrugged. “Isabela, we can help you if you can pay us. And can you?”
Isabela smirked. “Sweet thing, one perk of being a pirate is that I definitely have some money lying about. Don’t worry about it.”
“Well, that's something we're really happy to hear,” Varric said.
“One last thing,” Abigail leaned forward. “Do you have any issues with mages? Some of our friends are...well, they know more than staff fighting, let's leave it at that.”
Isabela laughed. “Problem with mages? I'm Rivaini—it's you bloody mainlanders that get all weird about magic. No offense.”
Abigail smiled, relieved. “None taken, that’s exactly what I was hoping to hear. So, when do we start?”
Isabela was to meet Hayder at night in one of the seedier spots in Hightown. Abigail was really unsure about the location.
“We have a friend in the Guard,” she told Isabela. “I could just tell her to get Hayder. It might save you a great deal of trouble.”
Isabela tapped her chin. “That...would be a good idea,” she said. “I don't usually go to the Guard—they're never very happy to see me, if you get my drift.”
“I gathered that.” the piracy bit had been a tip-off.
“Exactly.” Isabela rubbed her forehead. “The problem is—he's the go-between between me and my actual employer, an Antivan bastard called Castillon.” she scowled. “Castillon was dealing in slaves, and I stopped that, only he decided that I had to pay him back, so I went and got the bloody relic for him.”
“Why did you do that?” Abigail asked. “You could have just run, couldn't you?”
“I could have," she sighed. "But if I ran, he'd probably track me down again. No, I think I'll need to deal with Hayder myself—at least let Castillon know it'd be a bad idea to get on my ass again.”
“Alright...” Abigail said, uncertainly. “If you think that's the best thing to do, I suppose we can help.”
“And the money helps, too,” Varric pointed out.
“That too.”
Abigail went to see Merrill in the Alienage, to see if she wanted in on Isabela’s job. She was still at Velanna and Sigrun’s house, and the three of them seemed content so far.
“I'm trying to get my own house,” Merrill said, the four of them sitting at the small kitchen table. “I don't want to impose any longer than I have to...”
“It's fine,” Sigrun assured her. “Anyway, we like the company. Isn't that right, ibine?” she nudged Velanna.
“Hm?” Velanna said. “Yes—being around another Dalish is a relief.”
“Good to hear,” Abigail said. “I really came here about a job, however. Would any of you like to help?”
“What's the job?” Sigrun asked. “We could do with some money.”
“It's a little complicated, but essentially, we’re doing backup for a woman who wants to make sure nothing goes wrong with this person she's meeting.”
“Criminal?” Sigrun asked.
“Isabela? Very likely. The man she's meeting? Definitely.”
Sigrun and Velanna looked at each other.
“Sorry, count us out of that,” Sigrun said.
“We hardly need the extra attention,” Velanna sniffed.
“Could I help?” Merrill asked. “Or would that be a bad idea?”
“You can if you want,” Abigail said. “That would make the team a little mage-heavy, however.”
“I do know knife-fighting,” Merrill said. “If you're worried about Templars, I don't have to use magic to fight.”
Abigail raised her eyebrows at her, and Merrill hunched her shoulders.
“Any time we passed near human settlements, it was always a good idea to hide our magic,” she explained. “Sarel—Marethari's husband—always said that it doesn't do for a mage to only defend herself with magic anyway.”
“Do you know any nonmagical fighting?” Abigail asked Velanna.
Velanna's lip curled. “Staff fighting,” she grunted. “I prefer magic.”
“So do I!” Merrill exclaimed. “Or not fighting at all.”
“Well, you can come if you want,” Abigail said. “It would probably help to have more people rather than fewer.”
“I would not advise it,” Velanna said. “It seems like it could too easily go wrong.”
“No, I’ll help,” Merrill said. “It sounds like it might be fun.”
Sigrun laughed. “You have a weird idea of fun, don’t you?”
Merrill flushed and hunched her shoulders. “People’ve told me that before,” she admitted.
Abigail, Bethany, Carver, Varric and Merrill came to meet Isabela at the place she had specified. Merrill was edgy, shifting from foot to foot, her staff switched for a pair of long Dalish daggers. Bethany and Carver were both nervous as well, neither of them enjoying the proximity to Hightown.
Isabela met them about fifteen minutes later than she said she would. Her hair was pulled sharply away from her face in a bun, and her jewelry was gone. She wore the same short tunic and tall boots, but had added a pair of thick gloves that went halfway up her arms.
“You're all here, good,” Isabela nodded. “Want to introduce me to your friends?” she looked at Abigail and Varric, eyebrows raised.
“This is Carver and Bethany, my brother and sister,” Abigail said. “And that's Merrill—she's from the Alienage.”
“Hello,” Merrill smiled and gave a tiny wave.
Isabela smiled in return. She looked Merrill up and down and gave her an appreciative wink before saying, in a more businesslike tone, “And—which of you is the mages? I heard something about mages.”
“Bethany, Merrill, and I are.” Abigail said.
“No staff?” Isabela asked Merrill.
“Oh—I can get by without it,” Merrill assured her. “It'd stand out a little, anyway.”
“Good,” Isabela nodded. “I like having eyes on me normally, but this is a situation where we could easily have too much of a good thing.” she looked at Bethany, eyes tracing her staff.
“It's a quarterstaff!” Bethany exclaimed, noticing her gaze. “Abigail's is too!”
“Alright, that'll have to do,” Isabela said. “Come on—I set up a meeting with Hayder, but I just know he won't play fair.”
Hayder did not, indeed, play fair. A group of thugs attacked Abigail's group, showing that Isabela had been smart to get some backup. According to a note on one of the thug's bodies, Hayder was hiding out near the docks, and they went to go find him.
“Probably hoping to catch me,” Isabela growled.
“Are you around the docks often?” Merrill asked.
“Oh yes, I need to keep an eye out for another ship,” Isabela said. “It's a lot easier to find a ship to steal or buy when you're near them.”
“You'd steal a ship?” Carver asked.
“Only if it were a good enough ship.”
“But you would still steal one?”
Isabela sighed. “Is that really that much of an issue for you?”
“Well—I--” Carver sighed. “No, not really. Considering my line of work.”
“You don't even have a line of work,” Abigail said. “None of us do. We're just doing random jobs because none of us have enough skills to be an apprentice.”
“Thank you for reminding me,” Carver said, rolling his eyes.
“We can all talk about our terrible life choices later,” Isabela said. “Right now, there's a job I hired you for.”
They found Hayder in a dingy warehouse near the docks.
“I really want to know what part of your brain thought it would be a good idea to ambush me, Hayder,” Isabela said, unsheathing her blades as soon as she walked in the door.
“Isabela—should've known you'd find me,” Hayder growled. He was a greasy looking man with a Ferelden accent, and he cast a casual glance at Isabela's companions before focusing on her again. “Castillon's not happy with you, girl, not at all.”
Abigail rolled her eyes and took her staff off her back.
Hayder scowled. “Where's the relic, Isabela?”
“I lost it,” Isabela snapped.
“You lost it?”
“If you didn't notice, my ship sank, half my crew died, and the other half all ran off after reaching land,” she said. “Yes, I lost it.”
“And is there any reason you didn't let Castillon know you survived the wreck?” Hayder asked, folding his arms. “He would’ve liked to hear about that.”
“Must've slipped my mind.” Isabela's tone was utterly icy.
“No slaves, and no relic,” Hayder's lip curled.
“Oh dear, no slaves!” Isabela rolled her eyes. “My heart bleeds for Castillon. He's just going to have to do without.”
“You could always just not tell your boss Isabela's alive, if he doesn't know,” Varric pointed out. “Save us all a lot of trouble.”
Hayder snorted. “If I cross Castillon, he'll kill me, and my life's worth more than this pirate's is,” he gestured at Isabela.
Isabela sighed and shook her head. “Only one way to settle this,” she muttered. She took a throwing knife from her belt and flung it, hitting one of Hayder's fellows in the chest. A fight began immediately, but a group of ragged bandits weren't any match for three mages. The fight was very quickly ended, but not before Isabela took a knife to the gut.
Abigail and Carver held Isabela between them while Bethany tried to heal the injury, but after a few moments she grimaced.
“I can't do much,” she said. “I'm sorry—I can just stop it from bleeding, we need a better healer--”
“Anders has a clinic, doesn't he?” Merrill said, knotting her hands together worriedly. “I could try blood healing--”
“No,” Bethany snapped. “No blood magic.”
“It won't make it worse,” Merrill insisted.
“How can you say blood magic won't make things worse?” Carver demanded.
“Because I've done it before,” Merrill said. She chewed her lip worriedly. “Not on anything like this, though--”
“Anders' clinic,” Abigail decided, before they could waste any more time. They half dragged a semiconscious Isabela there. No one paid any mind to the group of people hauling a bleeding woman around Darktown. It was a reasonably common sight.
The light in Anders' window was lit, which was a good sign. Abigail kicked the door in.
“Anders!” she called. “Are you here?”
“Right here,” Anders came hurrying over. “For the love of Andraste—it's barely been a week since I saw you! Over here, on the table--”
They brought Isabela to the indicated surface, and Anders shooed them away while he worked.
“Oh, Creators, I hope she'll be alright,” Merrill said, shifting from foot to foot.
“Did you seriously want to use blood magic to heal her?” Bethany demanded.
“Yes—you saw how much blood there was.” Merrill held out her hands in an imploring manner.
“Blood magic doesn't heal anything!”
“Do you know any blood magic?” Merrill asked. “Do you know any blood mages?”
“Well--” Bethany faltered. “No, but—but I know it doesn't heal!”
“Don't be silly,” Merrill said. “Why wouldn't it? That's like saying a fire spell couldn't set a fire.” she rolled up her sleeve. “I don't even have any scars here, you see?”
The skin on both her arms was totally clear, free of any scar or blemish, or even any scabs. This was remarkable, considering the times they had been her cut open her arm.
“I could have helped!” Merrill insisted, pushing her sleeves back down.
“It's alright,” Abigail said, patting Merrill on the shoulder. “We got her to Anders in time.”
“What were you all doing?” Nathaniel had come up to them, watching Anders work. “Who is she?”
“She hired us to help her with a job,” Abigail explained. “But she got stabbed.”
“I can see that.”
Anders finally finished up, the glow of the healing magic dying. They hurried over to see how Isabela was.
“She'll be fine,” Anders said. “No thanks to any of you,” he glared at them. “I really don't need more than one or two stab patients a night, you know.”
“'s alright,” Isabela mumbled, finally coming around. “My fault. Should've kept a better eye on—whoever it was...”
“Quiet,” Anders instructed. “And stop moving so much. Just rest, alright?”
Isabela furrowed her brow. “Sure...” she said. “But first, where am I?”
“Darktown.”
She groaned. “Andraste’s tits, how did I end up here?”
“The Hawkes, Varric and Merrill dragged you here. All over half of Kirkwall, I assume.” Anders glared at them, his arms folded.
“Oh?” Isabela glanced at them. “Thanks for that. 'preciate it.” her eyes slid closed. “I'll pay you when it's light out, alright?” her breathing evened out, and she was soon deeply asleep.
“You're sure she's alright?” Merrill asked Anders.
Anders waved a hand. “Perfectly fine—she’ll have a nasty scar, maybe, but other than that...”
Merrill gave Bethany a significant look, and Bethany just sighed.
“So—what were you all doing that got this woman stabbed?” Anders asked. “Who is she, anyway?”
“Former pirate captain,” Varric explained. “She wanted us to be her backup during a meeting. We backed her up, but...apparently things didn't exactly go as planned.”
“A pirate?” Nathaniel raised his eyebrows. “Wait...she wasn't from one of the ships that sank in that storm, was she?”
“She was,” Bethany said.
“Wonderful,” Anders muttered. “Now I have to look forward to bloody pirates coming through my door as well as refugees, and the Vashoth.”
“The Vashoth?” Abigail asked. “What have they to do with anything?”
“Nothing, really, except for crowding my clinic. They really don't get on with the Qunari,” Anders explained. “Had a woman in here—apparently she tried to take on five stens at once. Stupid thing to do, even for someone that tall.”
“Why'd she do something like that?” Bethany asked.
“Didn't get a solid reason, but apparently she was an escapee from the Qun,” Anders said. “She was worried they were going to attack her or drag her back, so she struck first. Turned out, they had no idea who she was.”
Varric shook his head. “Those Qunari are bad news,” he said.
“Mm,” Anders nodded. “Surana hates them. You remember, Nate?” he nudged Nathaniel.
Nathaniel nodded. “The Qunari are pretty awful to their mages,” he said. “Even worse than the Circle.”
“And your Commander didn't like them?” Abigail asked.
“She's a mage, so...” Anders spread his hands.
They continued talking for a bit. Bethany and Carver returned to Gamlen's, but Abigail, Varric and Merrill stayed to make sure Isabela would be alright (and to get paid).
It was well into the morning when Isabela finally woke properly, rubbing her eyes.
“Alright, so explain to me again how I ended up in a Darktown clinic?” she asked.
“We took you here,” Abigail said. “You were stabbed.”
“You don't remember?” Varric said.
“I try not to remember getting stabbed.” Isabela informed him. “Not exactly fun memories, are they?”
“Try not to do it again,” Anders called over from where he was working on a broken arm.
“Believe me, I'll remember that.” Isabela stretched and got to her feet. “Alright, so you lot want payment...” she hummed to herself. “Well, you bothered to drag me all the way here, so you've probably earned more than we negotiated at first, right?”
She did end up giving them a good deal more than they first asked for, which was of a great help. She also assured them that should they need anything, they could simply ask her.
“I'll probably be in Kirkwall a while,” she said with a sigh. “If you want to find me, I'll be at my place by the docks—or a tavern, whichever.”
“We all live in Lowtown,” Abigail said. “Well—Merrill lives in the Alienage. So if you need to see us, you know where we are.”
“And Nathaniel and Anders live here,” Merrill said.
“Don't go dragging me into this!” Anders said.
“But this is where you live, isn't it?” Merrill asked.
Anders sighed. “Yes.”
Isabela glanced at Anders, then did a double take. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
“What? No, I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure? Have you ever been to the Pearl, in Denerim?”
Anders glanced up at her, looking at her in a new light. “I—yes...” he said. “Hm.”
“Oh, wait a minute, I do know you!” Isabela snapped her fingers. “You could do that thing with electricity!”
Anders flushed. “Maker above, it is a small world, isn’t it?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Abigail glanced between the two of them. “So...where exactly do you know each other from?”
“Long story,” Anders said, at the same time Isabela said “Whorehouse.”
Merrill giggled, Bethany and Carver gaped, and Varric laughed, immediately asking for the story. Isabela launched into an exuberant explanation, while Anders continued to be very red and only offered occasional commentary.
They left Darktown to go back to their respective homes.
“You should bring me on that expedition of yours,” Isabela commented idly to Varric. “I've a knack for finding treasure.” she winked at him.