If you want to read 15 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!
Go to https://www.patreon.com/DeathGun24
________________________________________________
The fire burned low, the conversation fading into comfortable silence. Around them, the soldiers had begun to turn in for the night, their quiet murmurs blending with the rustle of the wind through the ruins.
The first light of morning crept across the ruined tower, painting the ancient stones in pale gold. Daniel stirred from his bedroll, his muscles stiff from the previous day's battles. The camp was already coming to life—soldiers moving quietly about their duties, the scent of brewing coffee and sizzling bacon cutting through the crisp morning air.
He stretched, wincing as his shoulder popped, then made his way toward the fire where a grizzled soldier was tending a blackened pot.
"Morning," the man grunted, handing Daniel a steaming tin cup. "Bitter as sin, but it'll wake you up."
Daniel accepted it with a nod, wrapping his chilled fingers around the warmth. The coffee was bitter—burnt, even—but it was hot, and that was enough.
He stood apart from the others for a moment, sipping in silence, watching the sunrise paint the sky in soft pinks and oranges. The Breach still loomed above, its sickly green light muted in the dawn, but no less ominous for it.
Varric staggered over, rubbing his eyes. "Ugh. Morning." He squinted at Daniel. "You look like you've been awake for hours."
Daniel took another sip. "Haven't been."
"Liar." Varric snatched the cup from his hands and took a gulp, immediately grimacing. "Andraste's knickers, that's awful."
Daniel smirked, reclaiming his coffee. "You're welcome to go back to sleep."
"Tempting. But I'd rather not wake up to demons gnawing on my legs."
Cassandra joined them, already armored, her dark hair pulled back in its usual severe braid. She accepted a cup of coffee without comment, though her nose wrinkled slightly at the first sip.
"Sleep well?" Daniel asked.
She shot him a look that suggested the question was absurd. "The watch rotated without incident. Solas reports no disturbances in the Fade."
Varric snorted. "Oh good. Because that's reassuring."
Solas himself appeared then, his steps silent as always. He carried no coffee, but his sharp eyes missed nothing as he surveyed the camp. "We should move soon. The Crossroads will be expecting us."
Daniel nodded, draining the last of his cup. The caffeine was doing its job, sharpening the edges of his fatigue into something manageable. Around them, the soldiers were breaking down tents, dousing fires, checking weapons. The routine of it was comforting—normal, even amidst the chaos.
Daniel set his empty cup down on a nearby rock, the bitter aftertaste of the coffee still lingering on his tongue. The camp was nearly packed up, the soldiers moving with quiet efficiency as they prepared to march. He turned to Cassandra, who was adjusting the straps of her gauntlets with sharp, precise movements.
"We should leave a contingent here," he said. "Fifteen soldiers to hold this outpost."
Cassandra paused, considering. "It's a defensible position," she acknowledged. "And having a forward base in the Hinterlands would be useful."
Varric, who had been listening while repacking Bianca's bolts, chimed in. "Plus, it'll give us somewhere to stash all the random junk we keep finding."
Before Daniel could respond, the lieutenant approached at a brisk pace, his boots kicking up small puffs of dust. "Herald, Seeker," he said with a quick salute. "We found another apostate cache behind the ruins. Already loaded it onto the carriage."
Daniel exchanged a glance with Cassandra. "How much this time?"
"Almost enough to matter," the lieutenant said. "More blankets and medical supplies, lyrium potions—the stable kind, not that red shit—and some decent weaponry. Nothing fancy, but better than what half these refugees are carrying."
Solas, who had been examining the ruins with quiet interest, turned at this. "The apostates here were well-prepared. This was more than just a hiding place—it was a supply depot."
Daniel nodded, rubbing his chin. The stubble there was getting noticeable. He made a mental note to find a razor at the Crossroads. "Which means there might be more caches out there."
Cassandra's expression was grim. "And more apostates. Or worse."
The decision made, Daniel called over the quartermaster. "Pick fifteen to stay behind. Mix of fighters and scouts. They'll need to fortify this position and keep an eye out for more supplies—or trouble."
The grizzled veteran nodded. "Aye, Herald. I've got some good lads who could use the rest." He hesitated. "Though they'll be wanting more than burnt coffee and hardtack if they're to hold this place proper."
Varric chuckled. "Tell you what, if we find any decent liquor at the Crossroads, we'll send some back with the next supply run."
The quartermaster grinned, revealing several missing teeth. "That'd do it."
As the selected soldiers began unpacking what they'd need to remain, Daniel took one last look around the ruined tower. In the morning light, it looked almost peaceful—the crumbling stones softened by golden sunlight, the grass swaying gently in the breeze. It was hard to believe that just hours ago, they'd been fighting for their lives.
Cassandra joined him, her arms crossed. "You're thinking about the Isolationists again."
Daniel didn't deny it. "That mage didn't die fighting. He was trying to get *away* from all this."
"And you think there are more like him."
"I *know* there are." He turned to face her fully. "Not every mage wants to burn the world down, Cassandra. Some just want to survive."
She held his gaze for a long moment, then sighed. "I hope you're right. For all our sakes."
With the outpost secured and the carriage reloaded, they set out once more for the Crossroads. The morning sun was warm on their backs, the road ahead stretching through rolling hills and scattered stands of trees.
The path to the Crossroads wound through rolling hills, the morning sun casting long shadows across the dirt track. The scent of pine and damp earth filled the air, a welcome change from the acrid tang of battle and burning that had clung to them for days.
They hadn't gone far when a figure appeared on the road ahead—a man in Inquisition scout leathers, his face drawn with worry. He was moving at a brisk pace, his head swiveling as if searching for something. When he spotted their group, he hesitated for only a moment before hurrying forward.
"Excuse me," he called out, his voice tight with concern. "Have you seen another Inquisition scout? Elven woman, answers to Ritts?"
Daniel felt a jolt of recognition. Ritts—the scout they'd rescued from the templars near the river. He stepped forward. "Yes. We found Ritts."
The man's shoulders sagged with visible relief. "Thank the Maker. When she didn't report back, I feared the worst."
"She's safe," Daniel assured him. "We got her away from a group of rogue templars. Last I saw, she was heading for the Crossroads to recover."
The scout exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. Ritts is—well, she's one of the good ones." His gaze flickered over their group, lingering on Cassandra's Seeker armor and Solas's staff before returning to Daniel. "I'm just... glad the Inquisition is doing something good in the middle of all this." He gestured vaguely at the war-torn landscape around them.
Varric crossed his arms. "Yeah, well, we try. Between the demons, the rogue templars, and the mages who've apparently decided setting everything on fire is a solid plan, it's been a busy week."
The scout managed a tired smile. "I don't doubt it." He shifted his weight, glancing back the way he'd come. "I should go. Still have a mission to finish."
Cassandra nodded. "Maker watch over you."
"And you." With a final nod, the scout turned and jogged off down the path, his form soon disappearing around a bend.
They walked in silence for a while after that, the encounter lingering in the air between them.
Varric was the first to speak. "You know, for all the shit we've waded through, it's nice to know we actually helped someone."
Cassandra's expression was thoughtful. "Ritts would have died if not for us. That scout would have lost a comrade. It is... a small thing, but not unimportant."
Solas, who had been quiet until now, spoke softly. "In war, it is easy to forget that not every life is a statistic. That each person saved is a story that continues, rather than ends."
Daniel flexed his left hand absently, the mark pulsing faintly under his glove. "We should remember that. Especially when we get to Val Royeaux."
Varric groaned. "Ugh, don't remind me. I'd take another dozen rifts over Orlesian politics any day."
Cassandra shot him a look. "Your optimism is inspiring, Varric."
"Hey, I'm a realist. And realistically? This is going to suck."
Daniel couldn't help but smirk. Varric wasn't wrong.
The road curved gently as they continued their journey, the landscape shifting from open hills to denser clusters of trees. The air grew cooler here, the sunlight filtering through the leaves in dappled patterns. Then, as they rounded a bend, a small wooden cabin came into view—or what remained of one.
The structure was weathered but intact, its roof sagging slightly with age. What drew their attention, however, wasn't the cabin itself, but the sickly green tear in reality hovering just before it. The rift pulsed like a heartbeat, tendrils of energy lashing out at the air around it.
Cassandra didn't hesitate. "Battle formation!" she barked, her shield already raised.
The soldiers moved instantly, falling into practiced ranks—sword and shield bearers at the front, archers and mages at the rear. Daniel felt the familiar prickle of his mark reacting to the rift's presence, a sharp, electric pain shooting up his arm.
Then the rift shuddered, and the first wave of demons clawed their way into the world.
Wraiths—three of them—materialized from the rift's emerald depths, their elongated limbs twitching as they floated forward. Their forms were insubstantial, shifting between corporeal and spectral, their hollow eyes fixed on the living.
Daniel didn't wait. His staff came up, and a bolt of lightning arced toward the nearest wraith. The creature shrieked as the electricity crackled through it, its form flickering like a guttering candle.
Varric's crossbow sang, a bolt punching through another wraith's skull. The demon recoiled, its wail piercing the air.
Cassandra charged the third, her sword gleaming as she swung. The Enhanced Whirlwind Ring lived up to its name—the blade struck with unnatural force, the air itself rippling in its wake. The wraith didn't stand a chance.
Solas hung back, his new Keeper Ice Staff pulsing with frost magic. With a sharp gesture, he encased one of the wraiths in ice, leaving it helpless as Daniel finished it off with a blast of fire.
The first wave fell quickly, their forms dissolving into black smoke.
But the rift wasn't done.
The tear in the Veil pulsed again, this time vomiting forth six wraiths—twice as many as before. They spread out, their ghostly forms weaving through the trees, making them harder to pin down.
"Maker's breath," Cassandra muttered, adjusting her grip on her shield.
Daniel gritted his teeth. His mana was already draining, the strain of back-to-back battles wearing on him. But they didn't have a choice.
Varric cursed as one of the wraiths phased through a tree, reappearing right in front of him. He barely managed to duck as its claws raked the air where his head had been. "Oh, come on!"
Daniel threw a barrier over him just in time—the wraith's next strike bounced harmlessly off the shimmering shield. Varric didn't waste the opening. Bianca coughed, and the wraith's head snapped back as the bolt took it between the eyes.
Cassandra was a whirlwind of steel, her sword carving through the spectral foes with brutal efficiency. Solas's magic wove between them, frost and force keeping the demons off-balance.
But the wraiths were relentless. One slipped past the soldiers, its claws slashing toward Daniel. He barely managed to roll aside, the demon's talons scoring deep grooves in the earth where he'd stood.
Then Solas was there, his staff slamming down. A wave of ice erupted from the ground, freezing the wraith in place. Daniel didn't hesitate—he lunged, driving the butt of his staff into the frozen demon. It shattered like glass.
One by one, the wraiths fell.
With the last demon vanquished, Daniel didn't wait for the rift to summon more. He sprinted forward, his left hand outstretched. The mark flared to life, green lightning arcing from his palm to the tear in reality.
The pain was instant—white-hot, like his arm was being dipped in molten metal. He gritted his teeth, pushing through it. The rift resisted, thrashing like a living thing, but Daniel held firm.
Then, with a final, deafening crack, the rift collapsed in on itself, the green light winking out like a snuffed candle.
Silence.
Daniel staggered back, his arm throbbing. His interface flickered to life:
[Rift Closed!]
[177 EXP Gained]
[Obtained: Silver Necklace]
[Obtained: Frost Essence]
Varric let out a low whistle, lowering Bianca. "Well. That was something."
Cassandra wiped her blade clean, her breath coming hard. "We cannot keep doing this. Every rift weakens the Veil further."
Solas's gaze was fixed on the spot where the rift had been. "And yet, we have no choice."
Daniel flexed his hand, willing the pain to fade. The Silver Necklace was a delicate thing, its chain unbroken despite the battle. The Frost Essence, meanwhile, was a small, glowing orb of concentrated cold—useful for crafting, no doubt.
He tucked both away, then turned to the cabin. "We should check inside. Make sure there's no one—or nothing—left."
The cabin door creaked ominously as they stepped inside, the dim interior smelling of damp wood and crushed herbs. Dust motes swirled in the thin shafts of light that pierced through cracks in the boarded-up windows. The main room was sparsely furnished—a rough-hewn table, a few chairs, a cold hearth.
And then they saw her.
An elven woman sat hunched in the corner, her face streaked with tears, her hands clenched into fists so tight her knuckles had gone white. When the door opened, her head snapped up, red-rimmed eyes flashing with a mix of grief and fury.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice raw.
Daniel raised his hands slightly, showing he meant no harm. "We're with the Inquisition. My name is Daniel."
The woman—Maura—studied them with narrowed eyes, her gaze flicking from Cassandra's armor to Solas's staff before settling back on Daniel. "Inquisition," she repeated, the word heavy with suspicion. Then, with a bitter laugh: "Come to save me, have you?"
Varric cleared his throat. "More like, we saw the rift outside and figured we should check if anyone was..." He trailed off, glancing at the obvious signs of struggle—an overturned chair, a shattered vase.
Maura's expression darkened. "Templar bastards," she spat. "Killed my husband and stole the ring from his finger." Her voice trembled with barely contained rage. "They deserve to die."
Daniel took a careful step forward. "You're saying templars attacked your husband?"
"Aye." She wiped her face roughly with her sleeve. "He was digging out a stump in the back. Had his shovel in hand, plain as day. But those fools couldn't tell the difference between a shovel and a mage's staff." Her breath hitched. "Had to be safe, they said. Rebels everywhere attacking by surprise." She mimicked the templars' voices with vicious mockery. "Sick bastards. They took the ring I gave him on our wedding day—in case it was magic."
Cassandra's jaw tightened. "This is what the Order has become."
Solas's expression was unreadable, but his grip on his staff had turned white-knuckled.
Daniel crouched to meet Maura's eye level. "We'll help you get it back."
Maura let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. "And why would you do that?"
"Because it's the right thing to do," Daniel said simply.
For a long moment, she just stared at him, as if searching for deception. Then, slowly, some of the tension bled from her shoulders. "They headed west," she muttered.
Varric whistled lowly. "Charming."
Cassandra was already turning toward the door. "Then we go to the west to look around."
Maura stood abruptly, her grief hardening into resolve. "I'm coming with you."
Daniel hesitated. "Maura—"
"No." Her voice was steel. "That ring is all I have left of him. I won't sit here while you lot bumble about."
Solas studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "Her anger is justified. And she knows the land."
Daniel exhaled. "Alright. But you stay behind us. If it comes to a fight—"
"I can handle myself," she snapped.
The path west was overgrown, the trees pressing close on either side. Maura led the way, her steps quick and sure despite the grief weighing on her. The further they went, the more signs they found of recent templar activity—trampled underbrush, discarded ration tins, the occasional scrap of torn fabric.
________________________________________________
Name : Daniel Carter
Race: Elf
Level 3 : 1204/1500 EXP
Professions: Mage
Gold Coins: 1146 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, Qunari Buckler, and Medium Adventure Armor
Crafting Materials: 27 Elfroot, 44 Iron, 2 Blue Vitriol, 1 Dawn Lotus, 11 Silk, 4 Lambswool, 1 Royal Elfroot, 10 Ram Leather, 23 Drakestone, 3 Fire Essence, 3 Blue Vitriol, 3 Canine Leather, and 4 Plaidewaive
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, 2 Silver Necklace, 1 Ram Horn, 1 Bride's Blood Vial, 1 Silk Handerchief, 1 Glass Fox, 1 Silver Earring, 1 Dreamer Rag, and 1 Frost Essence
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