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As Hyndel slumped into a chair, Daniel's gaze drifted to the other side of the tower. Anais had called this a "holy site." He wondered what other secrets Winterwatch was hiding.
The cultists below still lingered, their whispers trailing after the group like shadows, but none dared approach. Anais had melted into the background, her fervor momentarily sated.
There a path above the gate, that will led them to the other side. Varric nudged Daniel's elbow, nodding toward it. "Bet you ten sovereigns there's something worth looting there."
Cassandra scoffed but didn't argue.
The room they entered was small, cluttered with sacks and crates, the air thick with the scent of mildew and old straw. Daniel's eyes swept the space, his perception honed by years of scavenging. A burlap sack slumped in the corner caught his attention—its stitching frayed, something metallic glinting inside. He crouched, pulling it open.
His interface flickered to life:
[Obtained: 60 Gold Coins]
[Obtained: 2 Silk]
Varric let out a low whistle. "Not bad. Silk's worth its weight in silver these days."
Solas lingered near the far wall, his fingers tracing the grooves in the stone. "This tower was not always a haven for fanatics," he murmured. "Once, it served a different purpose."
Daniel didn't ask how he knew. The elf had a way of speaking as if the past whispered directly into his ear.
Another ladder, sturdier than the last, led upward. The wood creaked under their boots as they ascended, emerging into a dimly lit chamber. The ceiling was vaulted, the remnants of old murals peeling away like dead skin. A chest sat nestled between two broken pillars, its lock long since rusted away.
Daniel pried it open. The hinges screamed in protest.
His interface illuminated the contents:
[Obtained: Amulet of Willpower – Common Rank]
[+2 Willpower]
[Obtained: Apprentice Mail – Common Rank]
[72 Armor Protection]
[+2 Willpower]
[Obtained: Glass Fox]
The amulet was unassuming—a simple bronze pendant etched with runes that hummed faintly under his touch. The armor, though lightweight, felt sturdy, the leather reinforced with thin metal plates. But it was the glass fox that gave him pause. Delicate, translucent, its form caught mid-leap, frozen in eternal motion. Light refracted through it, casting prismatic shards across the floor.
Varric picked it up, turning it over. "Huh. Never seen glasswork like this outside of Orlais."
Solas's gaze sharpened. "Because it is not Orlesian." He took the fox gently, his thumb brushing its surface. "This is elven craftsmanship. A trinket, perhaps, but one made with techniques lost to time."
Daniel pocketed the amulet and armor, but the fox he left with Solas. The elf seemed to understand its weight better than any of them.
Near the chest, half-buried in dust, lay a golden tablet no larger than Daniel's palm. He brushed it off, revealing an intricate mosaic fragment—a sliver of a larger image, the edges jagged where it had been broken apart.
Solas inhaled sharply. "Where did you find that?"
Daniel handed it over. "You recognize it?"
The elf's fingers traced the gilded patterns, his expression unreadable. "This is a piece of an ancient Tevinter mosaic. Part of a series called The Fall." He tilted it toward the light, revealing a fragment of a robed figure, one hand outstretched as if in supplication. "There were twelve in total. Scattered, no doubt, when the Imperium crumbled."
Cassandra folded her arms. "And why does that matter to us?"
Solas's smile was thin. "Because The Fall does depict Tevinter's history." He tucked the piece into his belt. "If we recover the others, we may learn truths long buried."
Daniel filed that away for later. Truths were valuable—especially ones people had died to hide.
Another sack yielded 54 gold coins, heavy and clinking. Varric grinned as he hefted it. "Now we're talking."
But it was the balcony that held the real prize.
A table stood near the edge, its surface scarred by time. Atop it rested an object that made Solas go utterly still.
An elven artifact.
It was unassuming at first glance—a twisted silver rod, its surface etched with spiraling glyphs that pulsed faintly, as if breathing. The air around it thrummed, a vibration just beneath hearing.
Solas approached it like a man stepping toward a sleeping dragon. "This… this should not be here."
Daniel frowned. "What is it?"
"A Veil stabilizer," Solas murmured. "Or what remains of one." He circled the table, his voice low. "The ancient elves used such devices to fortify the barriers between realms. To keep the Fade from bleeding into ours." His fingers hovered above it, not quite touching. "If activated, it could strengthen the Veil in this area. Minimize rifts. Prevent demons from crossing so easily."
Cassandra's eyes narrowed. "Then we should take it with us."
Solas shook his head. "It is tied to this place. Moving it would render it inert." He glanced at Daniel. "But activating it… that, we can do."
Daniel studied the artifact. "How?"
Solas's answer was infuriatingly simple. "Touch it."
No grand ritual. No incantation. Just… touch.
Daniel exhaled, then reached out.
The moment his fingers brushed the metal, the world shuddered.
A shockwave of green energy erupted from the artifact, rippling outward in a visible sphere. The force of it sent Daniel stumbling back, his arm tingling as if struck by lightning. The glow intensified, then solidified into a shimmering dome around the artifact, humming with power.
His interface blazed to life:
[Elven Artifact Activated!
[Veil Stabilized in Local Area]
[Rift Activity Reduced]
[+44 EXP]
The air itself felt different—cleaner, sharper, as if a stifling blanket had been lifted.
Varric coughed, waving a hand through the lingering energy. "Well. That was dramatic."
Solas, however, looked… unsettled. His gaze lingered on the artifact, then flicked to Daniel. "You felt nothing else? No… pull?"
Daniel flexed his hand. "Just a shock. Why?"
The elf hesitated. "It is nothing. Only that such devices were not meant to be activated by some hands." He turned away before Daniel could press further. "We should go. The artifact will do its work now."
As they descended the ladder, Daniel couldn't shake the feeling that Solas was keeping something from them. The artifact, the mosaic, the glass fox—each felt like a piece of a puzzle he didn't yet have the edges for.
The descent from the artifact's chamber was slow, the weight of what they had uncovered pressing on them in silence. The second ladder groaned under their steps, its rungs slick with damp. When their boots finally hit solid ground again, Daniel's eyes immediately caught on a worn leather pouch lying abandoned near the base.
He crouched, flipping it open. Coins glinted inside.
His interface flickered:
[Obtained: 42 Gold Coins]
Varric smirked. "Either the cultists are terrible at hiding their savings, or they're really bad at keeping track of loose change."
Cassandra exhaled through her nose. "Or perhaps they simply do not care for material wealth when they believe the end of the world is upon them."
"Eh, their loss," Varric said, nudging the pouch with his boot. "More for us."
They moved out of the room, descending a set of worn stone stairs that led them back into the courtyard. The air here was thick with the scent of wet earth and old smoke, the scattered remnants of the cult's presence lingering in overturned braziers and trampled banners.
Daniel's perception prickled—something nearby.
His gaze swept the area before settling on the stables. The wooden structure was half-collapsed, its roof sagging under the weight of neglect, but the stalls still held remnants of past occupants. A few moldy saddles, a broken cart wheel, and—more importantly—hidden caches.
He stepped inside, the hay crunching underfoot.
Varric leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You've got that look."
"What look?"
"The 'I'm about to find something shiny' look."
Daniel snorted but didn't deny it.
His fingers brushed against a loose floorboard. He pried it up, revealing two dust-covered pouches. The first jingled heavily as he lifted it.
[Obtained: 62 Gold Coins]
The second was lighter but still substantial.
[Obtained: 48 Gold Coins]
Beneath them lay a bundle of lambswool, still surprisingly soft despite the damp, and three small, jagged chunks of a blue-tinged metal.
[Obtained: Lambswool]]
[Obtained: Blue Vitriol x3 – Common Rank Metal]
Solas tilted his head, examining the blue fragments. "An crafting materials. Useful for making some armors or weapons."
Daniel pocketed the finds, his mind already turning over their next move. The courtyard was quiet now, the cultists either dispersed or watching from the shadows. But his instincts tugged him toward the tavern—a two-story building with a crooked sign that might have once depicted a griffon, now so weathered it was barely recognizable.
Cassandra followed his gaze. "You think there's more there?"
"Only one way to find out."
The tavern's door hung askew, one hinge rusted through. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of stale ale and rotting wood. The first floor was a mess of overturned tables and shattered mugs, the remnants of a hasty retreat—or a violent struggle.
Daniel's perception hummed, guiding him toward a collapsed shelf near the bar. Behind it, half-buried in debris, was a small chest.
He dragged it free, prying open the lid.
[Obtained: Silver Earring]
[Obtained: Canine Leather x3 – Common Rank Leather]
[Obtained: 60 Gold Coins]
Varric let out an appreciative whistle at the earring, holding it up to the dim light. "Not bad craftsmanship. Probably belonged to some noble's wayward son before he got himself killed in a drunken brawl."
Cassandra rolled her eyes but didn't comment.
The last item in the chest was a shield—small, round, and clearly of Qunari make, its surface etched with angular patterns.
[Obtained: Qunari Buckler – Common Rank Shield]
[10 Armor Protection]
[+30% Front Defense]
[+4% Ranged Defense]
Daniel hefted it, testing the weight. It was lighter than he expected, the grip worn smooth from use.
Cassandra eyed it critically. "A buckler. Not as sturdy as a full shield, but useful for quick deflection."
Varric grinned. "Also useful for bashing someone in the face when they least expect it."
Daniel smirked but set it aside for now. They still had the second floor to check.
The wooden stairs creaked ominously under their weight, the sound echoing through the empty tavern. The upper floor was in slightly better condition—fewer signs of violence, more of abandonment. A few bedrolls lay scattered, along with a broken lute and a pile of yellowed letters no one had bothered to take.
Then his perception flared again.
A table near the stairs, its surface scarred by knife marks and ale stains. Something about it felt... deliberate.
Daniel approached, running his fingers along the edge. A loose panel. He pried it up, revealing a hidden compartment—and inside, a single bottle of wine, its glass dark green, the label faded but still legible.
His interface lit up:
[Obtained: Vint-9 Rowan's Rose]
Varric's eyes widened. "No way."
Daniel turned the bottle in his hands. "You know this?"
"Know it? That's one of the Twenty-Nine!" At Daniel's blank look, Varric scoffed. "Come on, you've never heard of the Twenty-Nine Rare Vintages of Thedas? This," he tapped the bottle, "is legendary. The kind of thing Orlesian nobles would stab each other over at a dinner party."
Solas arched a brow. "I was unaware you were such a connoisseur, Varric."
The dwarf grinned. "What can I say? I've got refined tastes."
Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose. "So we are now looting *alcohol*?"
Varric clutched his chest in mock offense. "Seeker, this isn't just 'alcohol.' This is history."
Daniel chuckled, tucking the bottle carefully into his pack. "We'll save it for a special occasion."
Varric sighed dramatically. "Fine. But when we crack it open, I get the first sip."
Daniel carefully tucked the precious bottle of Vint-9 Rowan's Rose into his pack, securing it between layers of cloth to keep it from breaking. Varric watched with the mournful expression of a man already imagining the taste.
"Well," Daniel said, adjusting the straps, "we'll taste it after we stop the Breach and have a proper celebration."
Varric grinned. "Now that's a plan I can get behind."
Cassandra gave a small, reluctant nod of agreement, while Solas merely arched a brow, as if silently questioning whether they would live long enough for such a celebration.
They turned to leave, boots scuffing against the warped floorboards of the tavern's upper floor—when a voice called out from the stairwell.
"Excuse me!"
A man stood there, his fine but travel-worn clothes marking him as noble, though his disheveled appearance suggested he hadn't slept properly in days. His dark hair was streaked with premature gray, his face lined with exhaustion and something else—desperation.
"My name is Lord Berand," he said, his voice tight. "I must ask—while you were coming up, did you meet a young noblewoman? Blonde hair, pale green eyes?"
Daniel's stomach dropped.
"Lady Vellina should be here by now," Berand continued, his fingers twitching at his sides. "We were meant to be together when the Maker comes."
A memory flashed in Daniel's mind—the corpse they had found down the hill, half-buried in the mud. The woman's fine dress torn, her golden hair matted with blood. And the letter, still tucked in his belt pouch, bearing both her name and this man's.
"I found a woman's body down the hill," Daniel said slowly, watching Berand's face carefully. "There was a letter on her."
He pulled the folded parchment from his pouch, the paper slightly damp from the earlier rain. The ink had smudged in places, but the words were still legible—My dearest Berand, if the Maker wills it, we shall meet at the tower…
Berand's breath hitched as he took the letter, his hands shaking. He didn't need to read it. He recognized the handwriting instantly.
"Vellina is… dead?" His voice cracked. "But… we were meant to be together. The Maker would not keep us apart!" His fingers clenched around the parchment, crumpling it. "What am I supposed to do now?"
The raw grief in his voice was like a physical weight in the air. Varric shifted uncomfortably, and even Cassandra's usual stern expression softened slightly.
Daniel hesitated, then spoke carefully. "The Inquisition needs men who believe as strongly as you do. Come and help us restore order."
Berand looked up, his eyes red-rimmed but burning with sudden intensity. "Yes," he said, voice firming. "If waiting here in the hills leaves innocents to die, then I will bring the Maker's word by the sword." He straightened, squaring his shoulders like a man who had just found purpose in the ashes of his grief. "My men and I will lend our strength to the Inquisition. Thank you."
Cassandra stepped forward, her tone brisk but not unkind. "Report to Commander Cullen in Haven. He will assign you as one of our agents."
Berand nodded sharply, then turned and strode down the stairs without another word, his footsteps heavy with resolve.
For a moment, no one spoke. The weight of the encounter lingered, the taste of grief and duty thick in the air.
Then Varric let out a slow breath. "Well. That got heavy fast."
Daniel exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah."
Cassandra's mouth tightened. "War leaves no one untouched. Not even lovers waiting for the Maker."
Solas, who had been silent throughout the exchange, finally spoke, his voice quiet. "He will either find purpose in this cause… or break beneath it."
Daniel didn't like the implication, but he couldn't deny it. The Inquisition was a beacon for the lost, the desperate, the faithful—but not all who followed it would survive what was coming.
"We should move, and continue our journey." he said, pushing the thought aside.
The others nodded, and together, they descended the tavern stairs, stepping back into the ruined courtyard. The wind had picked up, carrying the scent of distant rain. Somewhere above, the Breach pulsed, a constant reminder of the chaos still unfolding.
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Name : Daniel Carter
Race: Elf
Level 3 : 239/1500 EXP
Professions: Mage
Gold Coins: 1140 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, Raider Hatchet, Disciple Fire Staff, Amulet of Willpower, Apprentice Mail, and Qunari Buckler
Crafting Materials: 27 Elfroot, 44 Iron, 2 Blue Vitriol, 1 Dawn Lotus, 11 Silk, 3 Lambswool, 1 Royal Elfroot, 10 Ram Leather, 10 Drakestone, 2 Fire Essence, 3 Blue Vitriol, and 3 Canine Leather
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, 1 Bride's Blood Vial, 1 Silk Handerchief, 1 Glass Fox, and 1 Silver Earring
Potions: Lesser Health Potions x8, Lesser Regeneration Potions x5, and x5 Lyrium Potion
Skills: Chain Lighting, Flashfire, Barrier, and Winter's Grasp
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
Bottles of Thedas: Vint-9 Rowan's Rose