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Behind them, Varric was regaling a group of soldiers with an exaggerated tale of their exploits at the Breach. Cassandra walked slightly apart, her posture rigid, her eyes constantly scanning the tree line for threats.
The hills rose steeply before them, dotted with skeletal trees and jagged outcroppings of rock. As they crested a ridge, a lone farmhouse came into view—its door hanging crookedly from broken hinges, its windows dark and gaping like empty eye sockets. The place had an eerie stillness about it, as though holding its breath.
Cassandra's hand went to her sword. "We should check inside. Could be supplies—or worse."
Varric snorted. "Because nothing bad ever happens in creepy abandoned houses."
Despite the dwarf's sarcasm, they approached cautiously. The wooden floorboards groaned underfoot as Daniel pushed the door fully open, revealing a single room frozen in time. A table lay overturned, its contents long since scavenged. A rusted cooking pot sat cold in the hearth. And on the far wall—
"A letter," Solas observed quietly. "Rather dramatically displayed."
Indeed, the parchment had been stabbed into the wall with a knife, its edges fluttering slightly in the draft. Daniel stepped closer, carefully removing the blade to examine the message. The ink was faded but still legible:
Brythis,
I know you escaped with the other mages. I know you'll come here.
Father always said if you strayed, he'd put you down himself. But if you're reading this, then he's dead. So I'll say it plain—go north to old Fennick's place. I've got Father's sword now. I've got my true brothers in the Templars.
Come face me if you're man enough.
- Yven
Daniel exhaled slowly, the weight of the brothers' strife settling heavily in his chest. He turned to the others, holding up the letter. "Seems like we've got another stop to add to our list."
Varric whistled low. "Family reunions are always messy. Add magic and templars to the mix? This'll be a bloodbath."
Cassandra took the letter, scanning it quickly. "Old Fennick's place... I've seen it marked on our maps. Abandoned farmstead northeast of here." She frowned. "But it can wait. Our current objectives take priority."
Daniel nodded, tucking the letter into his belt. "After we handle the rams, Hyndel, and the supplies."
As they turned to leave, a glint of metal caught Daniel's eye—a chest half-buried under collapsed shelving in the corner. He heaved the debris aside, revealing a sturdy lockbox crusted with dirt.
"Treasure?" Varric perked up, already reaching for his lockpicks.
The mechanism clicked open with minimal effort. Inside lay a massive greataxe, its curved blade gleaming despite years of neglect. The weapon was unmistakably Qunari in design—brutally efficient, all sharp angles and lethal intent.
As Daniel lifted it, his vision flickered strangely, words appearing unbidden:
[Qunari Battleaxe]
[Common Rank]
[81 AOE Damage]
[+2 Constitution]
[+6% Flanking Damage Bonus]
He blinked, and the text vanished. But the weight of the axe in his hands felt... right. Balanced. Like it had been waiting for him.
"Now that's a conversation starter," Varric remarked, eyeing the weapon. "Might want to explain how you got it before you start waving it around, though. Qunari don't take kindly to outsiders using their steel."
Solas studied the axe with quiet interest. "An unusual find so far from Par Vollen. One wonders how it came to be here."
Daniel tested the heft of it, then slung it across his back. "Another mystery for another time."
Outside, the overgrown farmland stretched wearily toward the tree line. Among the brambles and thistles, Daniel spotted clusters of delicate blue flowers—elfroot, the staple of every healer's kit. Two ordinary plants, and one with blossoms of a deeper violet.
"Royal elfroot," Solas identified, kneeling to examine the rarer specimen. "More potent by far. This alone could ease a dozen fevers."
They harvested the plants carefully, tucking them into their packs. Every bit would be needed back at the Crossroads.
The dirt path wound ever upward, the trees growing denser as they climbed. They hadn't gone far when the sounds of battle reached them—shouts, the crackle of magic, the ring of steel.
Rounding a bend, they came upon a skirmish—Inquisition scouts locked in combat with a band of rebel mages. The scouts were holding their own, but barely; one was already down, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle.
No words were needed. Daniel drew his magic on the Staff of the Dragon as Cassandra charged, her shield raised. Varric's crossbow sang, and Solas's staff flared with icy light. Cassandra led the soldiers who march with them charging the mages.
The fight was brutal but swift. The mages, though powerful, were disorganized—lashing out in fear rather than strategy. Daniel's magic carved through their defenses, which burn their body with flame. When the last mage fell, the strange flicker at the edge of his vision returned:
[150 EXP Gained]
He shook his head, dismissing the odd sensation as the scouts regrouped. Their leader, a wiry woman with a gash across her cheek, saluted shakily. "Herald. Your timing is... appreciated."
As they and the soldiers helped tend the wounded, Daniel noticed a crumpled parchment clutched in one dead mage's hand. Smoothing it out, he read aloud:
"Let the fools in Redcliffe play at being good mages, as they always have. We who know the truth will conquer this world. Every peasant who threw stones, every templar who glared in disappointment at our Harrowing—they will know it."
The writing grew more feverish as it continued:
"Follow the trails to the Witchwood. Our brothers await at the stronghold. The time of fire and vengeance is upon us."
Cassandra's face darkened as he finished. "This is no mere rebellion. This is a call to war."
Varric rubbed his forehead. "And here I thought the regular crazy mages were bad."
Solas took the letter, his eyes scanning the words with unusual intensity. "The Witchwood... There are ruins there, ancient and deep. If they've truly established a stronghold..." He trailed off, but the implication was clear.
Daniel pocketed the letter, his mind racing. Another thread in the growing web of conflicts. Another fire to put out.
But first—the rams. Hyndel. The supplies.
While the Inquisition soldiers tended to the wounded and kept watch, Daniel and his companions ventured further up the hillside. The terrain grew rougher, the air thinner, and the scent of pine more pronounced. Nestled among the rocks stood an odd structure—a mechanical device of ancient make, its bronze fittings green with patina, its gears frozen in place by centuries of neglect.
Varric let out a low whistle as they approached. "Well, that's not something you see every day."
The machine—if it could be called that—was a complex arrangement of interlocking rings and dials, etched with celestial symbols that had long since faded. A large central orb, cracked with age, sat at its heart, surrounded by smaller spheres that might have once represented constellations. Nearby, a tattered tent flapped in the breeze, its fabric brittle with age. A table stood beneath it, strewn with yellowed scrolls and crumbling books.
Solas ran his fingers along the machine's surface, his brow furrowed. "This should not be here."
Cassandra's hand hovered near her sword. "What is it?"
Daniel moved to the table, his eyes falling on a large, unfurled scroll weighted down by stones. The ink was faded but still legible. He began to read aloud, his voice carrying over the wind:
"The machine is called an Astrarium. It is our considered belief that these are relics from a cult that existed in the pre-Andrastian era of the Tevinter Imperium."
Varric, still examining the device, glanced over. "A cult in Tevinter? That's like saying there's water in the ocean."
Daniel continued, his fingers tracing the brittle parchment:
"Now, what would be considered a cult in a society that worshipped the Old Gods? An order of magisters who believed in the destruction of the Magisterium, the governing body of the Imperium that determines which mages are and are not given the 'magister' title."
Solas's eyes darkened. "Ah. The Corial Order."
Cassandra turned to him sharply. "You know of them?"
"Only in passing," Solas admitted. "They were Dreamers who rejected the hierarchy of the Magisterium. They believed true power lay in the Fade, untethered by mortal politics."
Daniel read on:
"The members of this order wished to return to an earlier period where Dreamers ruled, and evidence indicates they operated throughout Tevinter, though primarily in the frontier areas. There they would lock away their secrets—caches of treasure, and perhaps even secret meeting places—unlockable only through knowledge of ancient astronomy."
Varric tapped one of the machine's dials. "So this thing's a fancy lockbox?"
"According to our investigations," Daniel read, "each of the astrariums could point to the secret cache if one knew the three constellations that mapped to each device present at the site. Connect the dweomers in the correct configuration, and it would be revealed."
Solas exhaled slowly. "A puzzle, then. One that requires knowledge lost to time."
Daniel's voice grew quieter as he reached the scroll's conclusion:
"Many of these relics were sought out by Andrastian cultists in the early Divine Age—the Order of Fiery Promise in particular—and destroyed. Why? Because they believed the astrariums held together the Veil, and that destroying them would destroy the Veil and thus the world."
A heavy silence fell over the group.
Cassandra was the first to speak. "Did they?"
Solas's expression was unreadable. "No. The Veil is not so fragile as to be undone by mere machines. But the fear of it... that was enough."
Varric crossed his arms. "So let me get this straight. We've got a thousand-year-old magic puzzle box left behind by Tevinter cultists who wanted to overthrow other Tevinter cultists, and then other cultists tried to smash them because they thought it would end the world?"
Daniel rolled up the scroll carefully. "That about sums it up."
Solas stepped closer to the astrarium, his fingers hovering just above its surface. "If this device is intact, then its corresponding cache may still exist. Somewhere in these hills."
Cassandra's jaw tightened. "We don't have time for treasure hunts."
"Normally, I'd agree with you, Seeker," Varric said, "but if there's a chance this 'cache' has something useful—lyrium, weapons, hell, even old Tevinter blankets—it might be worth a look."
Daniel studied the machine. The central orb was marked with three indents, each shaped to fit a different constellation. "We'd need to find the right symbols to activate it."
Solas nodded. "The scroll mentioned three constellations per device. If we can locate the others in the area, we may piece together the sequence."
Cassandra sighed. "This is a distraction we cannot afford."
Daniel met her gaze. "But if there's something here that could help the refugees—or hurt us if the wrong people find it first—we should know."
A long pause. Then Cassandra relented. "Fine. But quickly."
Daniel reached out, his fingers brushing against the cold metal of the astrarium. The moment his skin made contact, the ancient machine shuddered to life with a deep, resonant hum. A blue glow pulsed from its core, spreading through the intricate network of gears and dials like liquid light. The air around them crackled with static, raising the hairs on Daniel's arms.
Above the machine, the night sky seemed to condense into a miniature firmament. Shimmering points of light appeared, suspended in the air like captured stars. They formed no recognizable pattern at first—just a scattered collection of luminous dots.
Varric took a step back, Bianca at the ready. "Well, that's new."
Solas's eyes reflected the blue glow as he studied the display. "A constellation puzzle," he murmured. "We must connect the stars to form the correct image without retracing any lines."
Cassandra's hand hovered near her sword, her gaze darting between the machine and the surrounding hills. "We're exposed here. Whatever you're going to do, do it quickly."
Daniel reached toward the nearest star. As his finger touched the light, it brightened, and a thin beam extended from it. He carefully drew a line to another star, then another, attempting to form the shape of a draconic figure he'd seen in one of the scrolls.
The moment he completed the shape, the lines flickered red. The constellation shattered like broken glass, the stars winking out before reappearing in their original positions.
"Try again," Solas urged. "The pattern must be exact."
Varric scratched his beard. "Maybe think less 'dragon' and more 'sword'?"
This time, Daniel focused on angular connections, forming what looked like a blade pointing downward. The lines held longer this time, glowing a hopeful gold—until the final connection. The constellation trembled, then collapsed again.
Cassandra shifted impatiently. "We're attracting attention."
In the distance, the faint sounds of movement echoed through the hills—branches snapping, stones tumbling. Whether wildlife or something more sinister, they couldn't stay much longer.
Daniel wiped his palms on his trousers and tried once more. This time, he started from a different point, tracing lines with deliberate precision. The shape that emerged was unmistakable—a massive sword, its hilt formed by four stars in perfect alignment.
As the final connection locked into place, the entire constellation blazed white. The lines didn't fade but instead transformed into a shimmering replica of the Judex constellation.
Solas inhaled sharply. "Judex. The Arbiter's Blade. It was adopted as the symbol of the Templar Order, but its origins are far older."
The astrarium responded with a deep chime. The central orb split open, and two beams of concentrated light shot forth—one northeast toward a distant ridge, the other due west where the hills dipped into a shadowed valley.
Cassandra's brow furrowed. "Strange. I expected one direction, not two."
Daniel shielded his eyes against the brilliance. "Where do they lead?"
Solas's fingers traced the air where the beams vanished into the horizon. "There must be more astrariums. These beams indicate the next two locations—likely part of a larger network."
Varric groaned. "Of course it's not simple. Nothing in Tevinter ever is."
The machine's hum deepened, then gradually faded. The celestial display winked out, leaving only the ancient metal contraption, now inert once more. But the beams' trajectories remained burned into Daniel's vision.
Cassandra turned a slow circle, scanning their surroundings. "We need to move. That light show was visible for miles."
She was right. The soldiers below had noticed—several were already climbing toward them, weapons drawn. Further afield, dark shapes moved through the trees. Too large for wolves.
Solas touched Daniel's shoulder. "This changes things. If there are more astrariums, they may lead to something significant."
Varric adjusted Bianca's straps. "Or they could lead to a thousand-year-old trap. Either way, maybe we deal with the angry refugees and murderous cultists first?"
Daniel nodded, though his mind raced with possibilities. The beams pointed in directions that aligned roughly with both the hunter's rams and Hyndel's last known location. Their path forward was becoming clearer, even as the mystery deepened.
As they regrouped with the soldiers, Cassandra laid out the options. "We follow one beam now, mark the other's location, and return to our original mission. Or we ignore this entirely and focus on the immediate threats."
Solas's expression was unreadable, but his fingers tapped a restless rhythm against his staff. The scholar in him clearly longed to pursue the ancient secret.
Varric shrugged. "I vote not getting stabbed by desperate refugees. Just saying."
Daniel looked northeast, where the first beam had pointed. Toward higher ground where rams might graze. Then west, toward darker hills. Toward answers, perhaps. Or more danger.
"We help the living first," he decided. "But we mark both locations. This isn't over."
As they moved out, the astrarium stood silent behind them—a sentinel of forgotten knowledge, waiting patiently to be understood.
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Name : Daniel Carter
Race: Elf
Level 2 : 806/1250 EXP
Professions: Mage
Gold Coins: 749 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, and Qunari Battleaxe
Crafting Materials: 24 Elfroot, 32 Iron, 2 Blue Vitriol, 1 Dawn Lotus, 5 Silk, 1 Lambswool, and 1 Royal Elfroot
Valuables: Aquamarine, Silver Bracelet, Figurine of Maferath the Betrayer, 2 Shadow Essence,
Gurn Gallstone Charm, Braid of Rank, Glass Halla, 1 Weapon Fragment, and 1 Silver Necklace
Potions: Lesser Health Potions x8, Lesser Regeneration Potions x5, and x5 Lyrium Potion
Skills: Chain Lighting, Flashfire, 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