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But this was no game anymore. These were real people with real lives at stake. Daniel set aside the empty tray and lay back, his body sinking into the mattress. His last thought before sleep claimed him was of the mysterious woman in his vision - Divine Justinia, calling for help. And the shadowy figure with red eyes who had ordered his death.
The morning sun cast golden rays through the cabin's small window as Daniel stirred awake. For a brief, disorienting moment, he expected to see his old apartment - the familiar glow of his gaming PC's standby light, the clutter of energy drink cans on his desk. But the rough-hewn wooden beams above him and the lingering scent of herbs from last night's poultices quickly grounded him in reality.
He stretched, wincing as his muscles protested. Every movement reminded him of yesterday's battle - the searing pain of the mark, the weight of the demons' blows against his barrier, the exhaustion of channeling so much magic. Yet to his surprise, he felt stronger than he had any right to. The system's level-up must have had tangible effects on his body.
After dressing in his Light Armor of the Dragon and ensuring the Staff of the Dragon was securely strapped to his back, Daniel stepped out into Haven proper. The village had transformed overnight. Where before there had been despair and chaos, now there was purposeful activity. Soldiers marched in formation, workers repaired damaged buildings, and Chantry sisters organized supplies - all beneath the watchful gaze of the Breach, still swirling ominously but no longer expanding.
As he walked toward the Chantry, villagers paused in their tasks to greet him.
"Blessings of the Maker upon you, Herald!" an elderly merchant called out, bowing deeply.
A group of children playing near the smithy stopped their game to stare in awe. One brave soul darted forward to touch his boot before running back to her friends, giggling.
Daniel offered them an awkward smile, unsure how to respond to such reverence. The weight of their faith pressed upon him heavier than any armor. These people weren't NPCs in a game - they were real, with real hopes pinned on him.
His attention was drawn to the Chantry, where the most striking change had taken place. The heavy wooden doors now bore a massive new banner - the flaming eye of the Inquisition, stitched in gold and crimson against a black field. It fluttered proudly in the mountain breeze, a bold declaration that the ancient order had indeed been reborn.
Two guards in unfamiliar livery snapped to attention as he approached. "Herald," one said respectfully, pulling the door open without needing to be asked.
Inside, the Chantry buzzed with activity. Clerics and soldiers moved purposefully between makeshift workstations, carrying scrolls and reports. The air smelled of ink, candle wax, and the faint metallic tang of armor polish.
As Daniel stepped further into the Chantry, the weight of his new reality settled upon him. The whispers of clerics, the hurried footsteps of messengers, the scent of aged parchment and burning candles—it all felt so real. Not like a game, not like some elaborate VR simulation. These were people, living and breathing, depending on him. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.
Then, a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"There you are."
Cassandra approached him, her stride purposeful, her dark eyes sharp as ever. She had shed some of her earlier hostility, but the intensity remained. "The others are waiting for you in the war room,"she said, gesturing down the hall. "The same one from yesterday."
Daniel nodded, falling into step beside her as they moved through the Chantry's dimly lit corridors. His gaze flickered to his left hand—the mark pulsed faintly, a quiet ember of green light beneath his skin. It no longer burned, no longer ached as it had before. But its presence was a constant reminder of what had happened—and what was still to come.
Cassandra noticed his distraction. "Does it trouble you?" she asked, her voice softer than he expected.
Daniel flexed his fingers. "Not anymore. It's stopped spreading, and it doesn't hurt."
A small, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her. "We take our victories where we can," she murmured. "What's important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You've given us time."
He glanced at her. "Time for what?"
"Solas believes a second attempt might succeed—provided the mark has more power." She hesitated, as if weighing her next words carefully. "The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place."
Daniel's stomach twisted. "That sounds dangerous. Couldn't that kind of power just make things worse?"
Cassandra actually snorted, a dry, almost amused sound. "And here people call me the pessimist."
Before he could respond, they reached the war room. The heavy doors swung open, revealing the familiar space—now transformed into the beating heart of the Inquisition's operations. Maps sprawled across the table, dotted with markers and hastily scribbled notes. The air hummed with tension, with purpose.
Three figures stood waiting.
Cassandra stepped forward, her voice formal. "May I present Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition's forces."
A man with golden hair and a scar cutting across his lip straightened at the introduction. His armor was polished but bore the marks of recent battle. "Such as they are," he said, his voice rough but not unkind. "We lost many soldiers in the valley, and I fear we'll lose many more before this is through."
Daniel met his gaze and saw exhaustion there—but also resolve. This was a man who had seen war, who knew its cost.
Cassandra continued. "This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat."
The woman beside Cullen offered a graceful smile. Her dark hair was pinned elegantly, her attire refined but practical. "Andaran atish'an," she said warmly.
Daniel blinked. "You speak Elven?"
Josephine's smile turned slightly sheepish. "You just heard the entirety of it, I'm afraid."
He couldn't help but chuckle. There was something disarming about her—a lightness amidst all the grim purpose in the room.
Cassandra gestured to the last figure. "And of course, you know Sister Leliana."
The red-haired woman tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "My position here involves a degree of..."
"She is our spymaster," Cassandra cut in bluntly.
Leliana arched a brow. "Yes. Tactfully put, Cassandra."
Daniel exhaled, taking them all in—the warrior, the commander, the diplomat, the spy. Each a piece of this fledgling Inquisition. Each looking at him with expectation, with hope.
He swallowed, then offered a small, genuine smile. "A pleasure. Pleased to meet you all."
The words felt inadequate, but they were a start.
Cassandra's voice cut through the momentary silence that had settled over the war room. "As I mentioned, your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good."
Leliana, leaned forward, her gloved fingers tracing the edge of the map. "Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help."
Cullen's jaw tightened, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword—an old habit, Daniel guessed. "I still disagree. The templars could serve just as well."
Cassandra exhaled sharply. "We need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark—"
"Might destroy us all," Cullen interrupted, his voice firm. "Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it so—"
"Pure speculation," Leliana countered smoothly, though her eyes flashed with challenge.
Cullen's grip on his sword tightened. "I was a templar. I know what they're capable of."
The tension in the room thickened, the unspoken tension between them lingering like smoke. Before the debate could spiral further, Josephine raised a hand, her diplomat's grace tempering the rising tempers.
"Unfortunately," she interjected, "neither group will speak to us yet."" She hesitated, then turned her gaze to Daniel, her expression apologetic. "The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition—and you, specifically."
Daniel let out a dry chuckle. "That didn't take long."
Cullen crossed his arms. "Shouldn't they be busy arguing over who's going to become Divine?"
Josephine's lips thinned. "Some are calling you—a Dalish elf—the 'Herald of Andraste.' That frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy, and us heretics for harboring you."
Cassandra's scowl deepened. "Chancellor Roderick's doing, no doubt."
"It limits our options," Josephine continued. "Approaching the mages or templars for help is currently out of the question."
Daniel blinked. "I was called what?"
Cassandra turned to him, her expression unreadable. "People saw what you did at the temple, how you stopped the Breach from growing. They've also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you. They believe that was Andraste."
Leliana gave a small, knowing smile. "Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading—"
"—which we have not," Cassandra added pointedly.
"—the point is, everyone is talking about you," Leliana finished.
Cullen studied Daniel, his gaze assessing. "It's quite the title, isn't it? How do you feel about that?"
Daniel ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. "I don't know. I'm not sure how I should feel about all of this."
Cullen's mouth quirked in a grim half-smile. "The Chantry has decided that for you, it seems."
Leliana's voice softened, though her words carried weight. "People are desperate for a sign of hope. For some, you're that sign."
Josephine nodded. "And to others, a symbol of everything that's gone wrong."
Daniel's stomach twisted. "Will the Chantry attack us?"
Cullen scoffed. "With what? They only have words at their disposal."
Josephine, however, shook her head. "And yet, they may bury us with them."
Daniel frowned. "So if I wasn't with the Inquisition…"
"Let's be honest," Cullen cut in. "They would have censured us no matter what."
Cassandra's voice was firm. "And you not being here isn't an option."
Daniel looked at each of them in turn. "The Chantry doesn't worry about the Breach? The real threat?"
Cullen's expression darkened. "They know it's a threat. They just don't think we can stop it."
Josephine sighed. "The Chantry is telling everyone that you'll make it worse."
A beat of silence passed before Leliana stepped closer to Daniel, her voice low but deliberate. "There is something you can do." She tapped a spot on the map—a region marked as the Hinterlands. "A Chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable."
Daniel considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Then I'll see what she has to say."
Leliana's eyes gleamed with approval. "You'll find Mother Giselle tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe."
Cullen straightened. "While you're there, look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisition's influence. We need footholds beyond this valley."
Josephine added, "We need agents to extend our reach, and you're better suited than anyone to recruit them."
Cassandra crossed her arms. "In the meantime, let's think of other options. I won't leave this all to the Herald."
Cullen gave a sharp nod. "Then I'll send soldiers to build a forward camp for us in the Hinterlands."
Leliana turned to the map again. "I'll dispatch scouts to clear out hostile forces near the Crossroads and ensure Mother Giselle's safety."
The war room fell silent for a moment as Cassandra's words settled over them. Then, with a decisive nod to Leliana, she continued, "Once the soldiers have built the forward camp and your scouts have cleared out the hostile forces near the Crossroads—once Mother Giselle is secure—I want one of them to send word back to us. After that, I will accompany the Herald to the Hinterlands."
Her gaze flicked toward Daniel, assessing, as if measuring his readiness. "Solas and Varric will come as well."
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Varric?" The name slipped out before he could stop it. The dwarf had been... colorful in their brief interactions.
Cassandra's lips pressed into a thin line, her distaste for the storyteller barely concealed. "Yes. Varric," she said, the name heavy with reluctant acceptance. "He knows the Hinterlands better than most, and his... connections may prove useful."*
Leliana smirked, clearly amused by Cassandra's struggle to admit that the dwarf had value. "I'll make sure my scouts send word the moment the path is clear."
Josephine tapped her quill against the edge of her ledger, thoughtful. "And what of the Chantry's denouncement? If the Herald is seen traveling openly—"
"Let them see," Cullen cut in, his voice firm. "Let them see that we aren't hiding. That we're acting while they debate."
Cassandra nodded in agreement. "The sooner we secure Mother Giselle's support, the sooner we can counter their rhetoric."
Daniel exhaled, rolling the tension from his shoulders. The weight of their expectations pressed down on him, but there was something else, too—anticipation. This would be his first real step outside Haven, his first chance to see this world beyond the walls of the fledgling Inquisition.
"When do we leave?" he asked.
Cassandra considered. "As soon as we receive word. A day, perhaps two."
Leliana added, "I'll have horses prepared for your party."
Josephine made a note in her ledger. "And I'll draft letters of introduction—discreet ones—for any potential allies you might encounter."
Cullen crossed his arms. "I'll ensure the forward camp is defensible. The Hinterlands are crawling with rogue templars and rebel mages. Neither side will take kindly to our presence."
Daniel frowned. "So we're walking into a warzone."
"More or less," Varric's voice called from the doorway.
Everyone turned as the dwarf strolled in, Bianca slung across his back. He flashed a grin, entirely unbothered by the sudden attention. "Don't look so grim, Herald. The Hinterlands are lovely this time of year—if you like fire, chaos, and villagers hiding in their cellars."
Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose. "Andraste preserve me."
Varric chuckled. "Ah, Seeker, you'll miss me when I'm gone."
"Unlikely," she muttered.
Daniel couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. As much as Cassandra clearly despised Varric's flippancy, there was something oddly reassuring about the dwarf's presence. He had a way of cutting through tension—even if it was by annoying it to death.
Leliana, steered the conversation back on course. "The Hinterlands are unstable, but that also means opportunities. The people there are suffering. If we can offer aid, they may be more inclined to listen to us."
Josephine nodded. "And word of the Herald's actions will spread. Right now, the Chantry controls the narrative. We must change that."
Daniel flexed his marked hand absently. "So we're not just recruiting allies. We're fighting for hearts and minds."
"Precisely," Josephine said, pleased.
Cullen's expression was grim but determined. "Just watch your back out there. The templars and mages aren't the only dangers. Bandits, wild animals, even rogue demons—the Breach's instability has made everything worse."
Varric clapped Daniel on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Curly. I'll keep our illustrious Herald from walking into any obvious ambushes."
Cassandra made a sound that was half-growl, half-exasperated sigh. "We will all be vigilant."
The meeting began to wind down after that, plans solidified, roles assigned. As the others dispersed—Josephine to her correspondence, Cullen to his troops, Leliana to her network of scouts—Daniel lingered for a moment, staring at the map.
The Hinterlands. His first real mission as the Herald of Andraste.
Varric sidled up beside him. "Nervous?"
Daniel snorted. "Terrified."
The dwarf grinned. "Good. Means you're not stupid." He paused, then added, more seriously, "For what it's worth, I think you'll do fine. Just remember—out there, you're not just some guy with a magic hand. You're a symbol. Symbols matter."
Daniel exhaled. "Yeah. That's what I'm afraid of."
Varric chuckled. "Atta boy."
As they left the war room, Daniel couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The Hinterlands awaited. And with them, the first true test of whether the Inquisition—and its unlikely Herald—could survive what was coming.
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Name : Daniel Carter
Race: Elf
Level 2 : 171/1250 EXP
Professions: Mage
Gold Coins: 680 Coins
Weapon: Staff of the Dragon
Armor: Light Armor of the Dragon and Templar Scribe Scowl
Accessories: Lifeward Amulet
Inventory: Acolyte Ice Staff, Morning Star, Stiletto, Hunting Longbow, Fire Resistance Cowl, Mercenary Coat, Acolyte Fire Staff, and Disciple Lighting Staff
Crafting Materials: 8 Elfroot, 6 Iron, 2 Blue Vitriol, and 1 Dawn Lotus
Valuables: Aquamarine, Silver Bracelet, Figurine of Maferath the Betrayer, 2 Shadow Essence, and Gurn Gallstone Charm
Potions: Lesser Health Potions x8
Skills: Chain Lighting, Flashfire, Barrier,
Armor Schematics: Shokra-taar Schematic, Antaam-saar Schematic, Avvar Armor Schematics Acquired, and Stone-Bear Armor Schematics