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Years of frugal living made it a habit for Hawke to examine every bit of detritus for potential value. Most of it was utter rubbish, true, but sometimes he’d get lucky and find a cracked snowflake obsidian, or (the surprisingly marketable) torn trousers. So when he saw something glittering in the surf next to where their boat had docked, he reached in and plucked out a bottle.
It looked valuable, covered in ornate designs and jewels and it was heavy. He pulled out the stopper and expected to get the scent of either alcohol or perfume. Instead he got a puff of smoke that gradually resolved into a genie.
Well, he assumed it was a genie, despite the pirate bandana and thigh high boots. It, or rather, she, gave a long, luxurious stretch, then blinked at him and and purred, “Hello, sweet thing. Buy me a drink?”
He held up a hand. “Hold on a moment, aren’t you supposed to grant me three wishes?”
“Well, I’d love to sweetie, but I can’t,” the genie said. “Unless your wish is to fight, drink, or shag. In that case, I’m your girl.”
Hawke frowned at her. “I don’t think you’re a proper genie.” He glanced at the surf, hoping there might be a different bottle and he could exchange them.
“I don’t suppose I am,” she said. “Seeing as how I’m not one to begin with.”
“Then what were you doing in this bottle?” Hawke asked suspiciously.
She looked down and scuffed her toe, then sighed. “It’s a bit embarrassing, but you did let me out.” Then she shrugged and said, “I had a run in with a Qunari dreadnought. They caught me and one of their mages gabbled something out and the next thing you know, bottle.”
“So, not a genie.”
“Sadly, no.”
“No wishes.” He fought to keep the disappointment from his voice.
She linked her arm through his and said, “I did say we could fight, drink or shag. Not all at the same time, however, unless you’re amazingly coordinated.”
Hawke looked into her laughing eyes, then at her amazing cleavage, and said, “Fine. Let’s start with the drink.”
“I like you,” she said. “Captain Isabela, at your service.”
He felt a brief pang at the thought of no wishes. Still, he thought, he could probably get a few silvers for the bottle.