Dragon Age: The Rite of Passage

A Rising Tide...: Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

Amaranthine Ocean

With the fifth bell of the day, Varric Tethras arose, washed and dressed. The strange bathing chamber allowing the dwarf to stand beneath a waterfall and clean himself with warmed water. Putting on small clothes under padded breeches; he pulled his favorite silken red shirt, stitched with gold accents and embellishments, over his head. All his attire worn under a tan travelers' coat, finished with black cuffed leather boots. Opening a large trunk placed at the foot of his bed, Varric ran his fingers over the contents. The countless jars, vials, canisters and small weapons crafted or obtained from various encounters on the field of battle. Hiding multiple daggers, spikes and flask using secret reinforced pockets, latches and hooks inside his long coat; he readjusted his clothes. The slight tilting of the ship helping him to remember he was at sea. Varric's over opulent accommodations, like those found in an Orlisan palace or royal bathhouse, somewhat intimidating. Anything not consisting of silk, lace, fur, crystal, alabaster, ivory, silver or gold; seemingly forbidden aboard the floating palace named, The Lord's Choice.

Enormous, the converted Antivan Trader was repurposed into a personal travel cruiser. The beautiful ship stripped of the customary pearl hull much like, Andreas Otto Rothschild's yacht was breathtaking. It's polished cedar planks on a reinforced oak frame cutting through the ocean waves effortlessly beneath crimson sails. The man sparing no comfort or protection against the threat of combat or piracy on the open sea.

"Viscount," Julia said knocking on his bedroom door.

"Come in," Varric said checking himself in a large mirror, framed in gold.

"Good morning, Viscount, I'm reporting for...um duty," Julia said dressed in dark rogue armor. The light weight Antivan assassin armor designed to give limited protection with maximum range of motion, utilizing pads over thin metal plates.

"Where did you get those clothes," Varric said turning.

"A young elf servant delivered them to my room last night," Julia said. "He didn't say much, but simply handed me three packages and walked away."

Looking at the Orlesian blue haired girl, "Do I even want to know what was in the other two boxes," Varric said.

"The matching boots, gloves, scabbard and these," Julia said drawing two, knightslayer daggers from the small of her back.

"Hold on darling, I'll be taking those and any other weapons you might have," Varric said. "This ain't a vacation, it's bloody business. I think my newfound friend has the wrong impression about you. You're here to take notes, write to and receive letters from Kirkwall's council members, that's it. Any conflict, other than what I'm having for lunch, you won't be in it."

"Will I have to return the outfit Viscount?"

"No, it may come in handy around this bunch," Varric said. "You just stick to what you do best, ink and quill. Me and my lady will handle all the heavy lifting."

Reaching inside his trunk, unlatching a much smaller trunk tucked away within, Varric withdrew his crossbow. The repeating weapon built using a carved wood stock adorned with brass fittings and embellishments. A marvel of dwarven craftsmanship, it carried no smithing marks and housed a retractable bayonet under its bolt release. One of a kind, the weapon specs had been kept secret to all but Varric and the original designer.

"That's Bianca," Julia said, the crossbow almost as famous as its owner.

"Yeah, she hasn't seen much action it quite some time," Varric mused. "Well, I guess we're both coming out of retirement for this one, right old girl?"