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Daniel adjusted the strap of his staff and turned toward the path. "Then let's not keep them waiting."
The caravan moved like a wounded beast through the twilight—soldiers flanking the creaking carriage, their eyes scanning the tree line for threats. The apostate supplies they'd recovered were precious, but not enough. Not nearly enough. The Crossroads would still starve, still freeze, unless they found more.
Daniel walked ahead, his senses stretched thin. The strange awareness that guided him to resources flared to life again—his perception skill painting the world in sharper relief. A glint of ore here, a cluster of herbs there. His fingers moved almost of their own accord, gathering what they could.
[Gained 6 Drakestone]
Varric watched the process with a mix of amusement and unease. "You've got a real knack for finding trouble—and treasure."
Before Daniel could respond, the forest erupted in violence.
Templar armor flashed between the trees. Mage fire lit the shadows. Another skirmish, another pointless battle in a war that had long since lost its meaning.
Daniel's staff was moving before his mind caught up. Lightning split the air, striking a templar mid-charge. The man convulsed, his sword clattering to the ground. Nearby, Cassandra barreled into another, her shield crushing him against a tree.
Varric's crossbow sang its deadly tune. Solas wove barriers and frost, his magic as precise as a surgeon's blade.
It was over almost before it began. Four more bodies on the pile. Four more souls lost to madness.
Daniel's vision pulsed:
[60 EXP Gained]
Cassandra wiped blood from her blade. "This is getting worse. They're like rabid dogs now."
Solas's voice was quiet. "Fear unmakes men faster than any magic."
They found her just off the path—a noblewoman in silks too fine for the wilderness, her body sprawled in the dirt like discarded finery. Her throat had been cut, the wound precise. Professional.
Daniel knelt, his fingers brushing the embroidered hem of her dress. The fabric was still rich under the grime, the gold thread catching what little light remained. His search turned up a heavy purse and a letter, its seal broken.
[Gained 65 Gold]
The parchment crackled as he unfolded it. The ink was fresh enough to smell faintly of iron gall. He read aloud:
"My Lady Vellina,
I know you're frightened, but the light in the sky shouldn't scare you. It's the eye of the Maker, finally coming back to take the faithful to the Golden City. Leave your father's servants and come up into the hills, away from the pointless fighting between the templars and mages. Let me introduce you to Speaker Anais. She'll explain everything, and we'll be together and happy, waiting for everything to be right in the world.
Your love,
Lord Berand"
A heavy silence followed.
Varric was the first to speak. "Well, that's not creepy at all."
Cassandra took the letter, her frown deepening. "Speaker Anais. That name appears in Leliana's reports. A cult leader operating at the Winterwatch Tower."
Solas studied the body. "She wasn't killed by templars or mages. This was done by someone who wanted it quiet." His fingers hovered over the wound. "A professional. Perhaps her father's men, trying to retrieve her."
Daniel pocketed the letter. Another thread. Another mystery. But the tower loomed ahead, its dark silhouette now visible through the trees.
The air grew thick as they approached the clearing, the scent of ozone and something fouler—like rotting meat left in the sun—hanging heavy around them. The trees here were twisted, their branches gnarled into agonized shapes, their bark blackened as if scorched by an unseen fire. At the center of the clearing, the Fade rift pulsed like a sickly green wound in the world, its edges writhing with unstable energy.
Cassandra's grip tightened on her sword. "Demons."
No sooner had the word left her lips than the rift shuddered, its surface rippling like disturbed water. Figures emerged—first the wispy, insubstantial forms of wraiths, their hollow eyes fixed on the living, their elongated fingers crackling with stolen magic. Then something far worse.
A towering figure stepped through, its emerald-green skin stretched taut over a skeletal frame. Its elongated limbs ended in claws as long as daggers, and its face—if it could be called a face—was a nightmare of jagged teeth and sunken, glowing eyes.
Solas inhaled sharply. "A Terror."
Varric already had Bianca leveled. "Well. That thing again."
The demons attacked without hesitation.
Cassandra didn't wait for orders. She charged, her shield raised, her battle cry ringing through the clearing. The soldiers followed, their blades flashing in the eerie green light of the rift.
Daniel acted on instinct. He raised his staff, weaving a shimmering barrier around Cassandra and the nearest soldiers just as a wraith lashed out with a whip of spectral energy. The magic dissipated harmlessly against the protective shield.
"Chain Lightning!"
The spell arced from his fingertips, forking between three wraiths in rapid succession. Their forms flickered, their shrieks piercing the air like shattered glass. One dissolved into smoke, then another—but the Terror was already moving, its grotesquely long limbs carrying it toward the fray with terrifying speed.
Varric's crossbow bolts punched into its chest, each shot trailing smoke as the alchemical charges detonated. The creature barely flinched.
Solas's voice cut through the chaos. "Its mind is its weakness!"
A pulse of energy lanced from his staff, striking the Terror between its sunken eyes. The demon reeled, clutching its skull as if in agony.
Cassandra seized the opening. Her sword cleaved through the creature's spindly leg, sending it crashing to the ground. The soldiers swarmed, blades descending like a storm of steel.
For a moment, the clearing fell still.
Then the rift pulsed again.
More wraiths. Another Terror.
"Maker's breath!" Cassandra spat, blood trickling from a gash on her brow.
The soldiers were flagging, their movements sluggish, their armor dented and scorched. One man went down, a wraith's spectral claws raking through his throat before Solas's ice spell froze the demon solid, allowing Varric to shatter it with a well-placed bolt.
Daniel's mana was running low, his spells growing weaker. But they couldn't afford to retreat.
He gritted his teeth and cast again. "Barrier!"
The protective dome flared to life around the beleaguered fighters, just in time to deflect a Terror's sweeping claws.
Cassandra didn't waste the reprieve. She lunged, her sword plunging deep into the demon's chest. It shrieked, its claws flailing wildly—but Varric's next bolt took it in the eye, and Solas's magic wrapped around its limbs, freezing it in place long enough for the soldiers to hack it apart.
The last wraith dissipated like smoke in the wind.
The rift shuddered, its energy growing unstable. Now was the moment.
Daniel stepped forward, his marked hand raised. The green energy within it flared in response to the rift, the pain sharp and immediate. He gritted his teeth and pulled.
The rift resisted at first, its edges writhing like a living thing fighting for survival. The mark on his hand burned, the pain searing up his arm and into his shoulder. But he held on, his will overriding the agony.
With a sound like tearing fabric, the rift collapsed in on itself, the unnatural light snuffing out in an instant.
Silence.
Then—
[177 EXP Gained]
[Obtained: Bride's Blood Vial]
[Obtained: Fire Essence]
Daniel exhaled shakily, flexing his marked hand. The skin around it was red and raw, but the pain was already fading.
Varric whistled. "Well, that's one way to clean up a mess."
Cassandra wiped her blade clean, her breath coming hard. "We cannot keep doing this. Every rift we close, two more seem to open."
Solas's gaze lingered on Daniel's hand. "The mark is stable… for now. But the Breach grows stronger."
Daniel tucking the strange vial and glowing essence into his pack. The Bride's Blood Vial was cool to the touch, its contents a deep crimson that seemed to shift when not directly observed. The Fire Essence pulsed with warmth, like a captured ember.
The path beyond the rift wound upward, the trees thinning as the ground grew rocky and uneven. The air carried the sharp scent of pine and the distant tang of smoke—whether from campfires or burning buildings, Daniel couldn't tell.
They hadn't gone far when another group of rogue templars emerged from the undergrowth, their armor dented, their eyes wild with desperation. The fight was swift and brutal. Daniel's lightning arced between them, Cassandra's shield shattered one man's ribs, and Varric's bolts found throats with lethal precision. When the last templar fell, the strange flicker at the edge of Daniel's vision returned:
[75 EXP Gained]
[Obtained: 1 Lambswool]
[Obtained: 1 Aquamarine]
Varric crouched beside one of the fallen, prying a loose gem from the man's pouch. "Huh. Not the usual loot you'd expect from a holy warrior."
Solas examined the aquamarine with mild interest. "Perhaps a stolen trinket. Or payment for services rendered."
Cassandra's lip curled. "Or proof they've been looting the dead."
Daniel tucked the items away, his mind already turning toward the tower ahead.
The structure at the base of the ascent was little more than a crumbling stone platform, its original purpose lost to time. A set of weathered stairs carved into the hillside led upward, disappearing into the mist. But it was the chest tucked against the tower's base that caught Daniel's attention.
The lock gave way with a sharp kick. Inside, nestled among tattered cloth and old tools, were a handful of coins, a simple amulet pulsing with faint magic, and a well-balanced hatchet.
[42 Gold Added]
[Amulet of Magic – Common Rank: +5% Magic Resistance]
[Raider Hatchet – Common Rank: 57 Damage, +3% Sunder on Hit]
Varric whistled. "Someone's been stocking up."
Cassandra tested the hatchet's weight. "Serviceable. Not as refined as a templar's blade, but it'll cleave through bone well enough."
Daniel fastened the amulet around his neck, the cool metal settling against his skin with a faint hum of energy. "Let's move."
The climb was steep, the steps slick with moss and old rain. As they reach the top, the sounds of combat reached them—steel clashing, a woman's sharp cry.
Rounding the final bend, they saw her: a lone Inquisition scout, her leathers torn, her dagger flashing as she fended off two templars. She was losing ground fast.
No words were needed.
Daniel's lightning took the first templar in the back, sending him spasming to the ground. Cassandra's charge knocked the second off balance, and Varric's bolt finished him before he could rise.
The scout staggered, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Thank you," she managed. "If you hadn't come…"
Cassandra steadied her with a hand. "You're wounded."
The scout shook her head. "Nothing serious. But I need to report back."
Daniel's gaze drifted past her to the picnic blanket spread nearby—and the dead mage lying beside it. The woman's robes were singed, her face frozen in an expression of surprise. A half-eaten apple rested in her limp hand.
"What happened here?" Daniel asked quietly.
The scout—Ritts, she gave her name as—shifted uncomfortably. "That's Eldredda. At least, I think that's her name. Heard other apostates call her that."
Varric raised a brow. "Picnic gone wrong?"
Ritts flushed. "The templars attacked. I just… got caught in the middle."
The lie was flimsy. Cassandra's eyes narrowed. Solas remained silent, though his gaze was knowing.
Daniel crossed his arms. "Try again."
Ritts's shoulders slumped. "So, the truth… I may have been, um, passing time with Eldredda."
A beat of silence.
Daniel sighed. "You were trying to find a moment of peace in the middle of war."
Ritts nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "At first, she was just a mage who saw me and didn't attack. But later, we…" She trailed off, then looked up sharply. "Are you going to report me?"
Daniel glanced at Varric.
The dwarf smirked. "Look, kid, if you can talk an apostate out of her pants in the middle of a warzone, you've got a gift. Use it. Make contacts. Get information. Help the Inquisition." He mimed zipping his lips. "Our lips are sealed."
Ritts's relief was palpable. "All right. I can do that. And… thanks. For going easy on me."
Cassandra stepped forward. "You'll answer to Leliana directly. Consider yourself one of her agents now."
Ritts straightened, some of her confidence returning. "Understood."
As she disappeared down the path, Daniel turned his attention back to the tower that near them. The real fight was still ahead.
The final stretch of the march on the windswept plateau. The tower itself was a jagged silhouette against the twilight sky, its torchlit windows casting long, flickering shadows. From within, the faint sound of chanting carried on the wind.
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Name : Daniel Carter
Race: Elf
Level 2 : 1268/1250 EXP
Professions: Mage
Gold Coins: 814 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, Disciple Lighting Staff, Sigil of the Gamordan Stromrider, Apprentice Armor, Qunari Battleaxe, Amulet of Magic, and Raider Hatchet
Crafting Materials: 27 Elfroot, 44 Iron, 2 Blue Vitriol, 1 Dawn Lotus, 9 Silk, 2 Lambswool, 1 Royal Elfroot, 10 Ram Leather, 10 Drakestone, and 1 Fire Essence
Valuables: 2 Aquamarine, Silver Bracelet, 2 Figurine of Maferath the Betrayer, 2 Shadow Essence,
Gurn Gallstone Charm, Braid of Rank, Glass Halla, 1 Weapon Fragment, 1 Silver Necklace, 1 Ram Horn, and 1 Bride's Blood Vial
Potions: Lesser Health Potions x8, Lesser Regeneration Potions x5, and x5 Lyrium Potion
Skills: Chain Lighting, Flashfire, and Barrier
Armor Schematics: Shokra-taar Schematic, Antaam-saar Schematic, Avvar Armor Schematics Acquired, Stone-Bear Armor Schematics, Vanguard Coat Schematic,
Weapon Schematics: Curved Dagger Schematic
Potion Recipe: Lesser Regeneration Potion recipe and Lyrium Potion Recipe