If you want to read 15 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!
Go to https://www.patreon.com/DeathGun24
________________________________________________
"Deadly." Daniel's grin was all teeth. "But first, we secure the team. Then?" He cracked his knuckles. "Then we go hunting."
Then the creak of the tavern door cut through the low hum of conversation, and all eyes turned as Cassandra Pentaghast strode in, her armor gleaming faintly in the firelight. Her sharp gaze swept over the table where Daniel, Varric, and Solas sat, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and determination.
"There you are," she said, her voice carrying the weight of someone who had been searching longer than she cared to admit. "It's already evening. If we're to make any progress in the Hinterlands before nightfall, we need to leave. Now."
Daniel smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Cassandra, always a pleasure. Have you considered knocking? Or is barging in just part of your charm?"
Cassandra's nostrils flared slightly—a telltale sign of her patience thinning. "Charm is irrelevant when you've been sitting here drinking while there's work to be done."
Varric raised his tankard in a lazy salute. "Ah, Seeker, you wound me. We weren't just drinking. We were strategizing." He shot Daniel a conspiratorial grin. "And, if I do say so myself, we came up with some pretty damn good ideas."
Cassandra crossed her arms. "Enlighten me."
Daniel pushed himself up from the table, stretching before rolling his shoulders. "Alright, since you asked nicely." He ticked off the points on his fingers. "First, we've got the Iron Bull and his Chargers waiting for us at the Storm Coast. They're a solid mercenary company, and if we're going up against a high dragon, we'll need fighters who don't mind getting singed."
Cassandra's frown deepened. "Mercenaries are unreliable."
"Normally, I'd agree," Daniel admitted. "But Bull's different. He's Qunari, but he's not with the Qun anymore. And according to Krem, he's got a reputation for sticking to his word."
Varric chimed in, "Plus, have you seen the guy? If nothing else, he'd make one hell of a distraction."
Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is not a joke, Varric."
"Never said it was," Varric replied, though his smirk suggested otherwise.
Daniel continued before the argument could escalate. "Second, we've got a lead on Red Jenny. Leliana's verifying the location now, but if it pans out, we could have eyes and ears in places even the Inquisition can't reach."
Cassandra hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod. "That… could be useful. But we must be cautious. The last thing we need is to walk into a trap."
"Which is why Leliana's checking it first," Daniel agreed. "But here's the thing—we can't chase all these leads at once. So, Varric had a point." He gestured to the dwarf.
Varric grinned. "Damn right I did."
Daniel rolled his eyes but continued. "We hit the Hinterlands first. Recruit Blackwall while we're there—he's a Warden, which means he knows more about demons and darkspawn than any of us. Then, once we've got him on board, we swing by the Storm Coast for Bull's crew and follow up on Red Jenny."
Solas, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke. "A sound approach. The Hinterlands are already a focal point of our efforts, and Blackwall's presence there makes him the most immediate asset."
Cassandra exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Very well. But we leave now. The longer we delay, the more ground we lose."
Daniel smirked. "Yes, mom."
Cassandra's glare could have melted steel.
Cassandra's gauntleted hand slammed down on the wooden table with a resounding thud, making the tankards jump. Her dark eyes burned with a mixture of disbelief and barely restrained fury as she leaned forward, her voice dropping to a dangerous growl.
"Wait. Wait. Did you just say—against a high dragon?"
Daniel met her glare with a lazy grin, the kind that usually made templars reconsider their life choices. "Yup."
Varric, chimed in with far too much cheer. "Oh, didn't we mention that part? There's a Ferelden Frostback nesting in Lady Shayna's Valley. Big, scaly, breathes fire—you know, the usual. Oh, and it's got dragonlings. Lots of dragonlings."
For a long, tense moment, Cassandra didn't move. Then, very slowly, she straightened, her fingers flexing like she was imagining wrapping them around someone's throat. "You. Are. Insane."
Daniel shrugged. "Probably."
Solas, who had been watching this unfold with the detached amusement of a scholar observing a particularly chaotic experiment, finally interjected. "To be fair, Cassandra, the Herald did mention the dragon earlier. You may have been too focused on dragging us out of the tavern to notice."
Cassandra whirled on him. "That is not the point!"
Varric leaned toward Daniel and stage-whispered, "I think we broke her."
Daniel snorted. "Nah. She's just warming up."
Cassandra took a deep, deep breath—the kind usually reserved for Andrastian chantry mothers dealing with particularly heretical children. When she spoke again, her voice was eerily calm. "Let me make this very clear. We are not hunting a high dragon. We are not throwing ourselves at certain death for trophies. And we are especially not doing this when we have an actual mission in the Hinterlands!"
Daniel scratched his jaw, considering. "See, normally, I'd agree with you. But here's the thing—we need this."
Cassandra threw her hands up. "Why?"
"Because," Daniel said, his grin fading into something sharper, "right now, the Inquisition is a bunch of strays huddling in the snow. We need to prove we're more than that. And nothing says 'don't fuck with us' like walking into Val Royeaux with a dragon's skull strapped to a cart."
Varric whistled. "Damn. That's actually a really good point."
Cassandra looked like she was seriously considering divine intervention. "That is your reasoning? Posturing?"
Daniel shrugged again. "Politics is just war with fancier knives. And right now, we're the ones without the knives."
Solas tilted his head. "An apt metaphor. Though I would argue that a high dragon is significantly more dangerous than an Orlesian courtier."
"True," Daniel admitted. "But at least the dragon won't stab you in the back while smiling."
Cassandra closed her eyes. "Maker give me strength."
Varric, ever the diplomat, decided to step in before Cassandra actually did strangle someone. "Look, Seeker, I get it. Dragons are scary. But think about it—if we pull this off? The Inquisition's name sticks. No one's going to question the Herald of Andraste when he's got dragon blood on his boots."
Cassandra's jaw clenched. "And if we die?"
Daniel grinned. "Then we don't have to worry about the Breach anymore. Win-win."
Cassandra looked at Solas, as if begging for sanity.
Solas merely sipped his drink. "I would advise against it. But if you are determined, I will not stop you."
Cassandra groaned. "That is not helpful."
Daniel pushed off the table, stretching. "Look, we're not charging in blind. We get Blackwall first. Then Bull's Chargers. Then we scout the damn thing. If it looks impossible, we walk away."
Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "You swear?"
Daniel placed a hand over his heart. "Scout's honor."
Varric coughed. "You were never a scout."
"Details."
Cassandra exhaled, long and slow. Then, finally, she muttered, "Fine. But if we die, I will find a way to kill you in the afterlife."
Daniel smirked. "Looking forward to it."
The crisp mountain air bit at their faces as they stepped out of the tavern, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across Haven's snow-dusted paths. The bustle of the Inquisition's forces was in full swing—soldiers drilling, scouts rushing with missives, blacksmiths hammering away at fresh steel. And right in the middle of it all, like a storm cloud in human form, Cassandra marched toward the stables, muttering under her breath about "insane, suicidal, dragon-chasing madmen."
Daniel, following behind with Varric and Solas in tow, couldn't help but smirk. "You know, if you keep scowling like that, your face might stick that way."
Cassandra didn't dignify that with a response.
As they reached the stables, the organized chaos of departure was already underway. Cullen stood at the center of it all, barking orders to a contingent of Inquisition soldiers—150 strong, all armored and ready to march. Josephine, was overseeing the loading of supply wagons, her quill and ledger already in hand as she double-checked inventory.
And then there was Leliana.
The spymaster appeared like a shadow given form, slipping between the milling soldiers with effortless grace. Her sharp eyes flicked from Daniel to Cassandra, and then—because she had the uncanny ability to sense trouble—she arched a single brow. "I take it there's been a change of plans?"
Cassandra didn't wait for Daniel to answer. "Change of plans would imply there was a plan to begin with." She jabbed a finger in Daniel's direction. "He has decided—along with Varric and Solas—that we are now dragon hunters."
A beat of silence.
Then, from Cullen: "What."
Josephine's quill froze mid-stroke. "I'm sorry, did you say dragon?"
Leliana, meanwhile, simply smiled—a slow, dangerous thing. "Ah. I was wondering when this would come up."
Daniel blinked. "Wait, you knew?"
Leliana's smile didn't waver. "There have been reports of a high dragon in the Hinterlands for weeks. I simply assumed someone would eventually suggest killing it."
Cassandra looked like she was about to spontaneously combust. "And you didn't think to mention this?!"
Leliana shrugged. "I didn't realize it was relevant until now."
Cullen, rubbing his temple like he could already feel the headache forming, turned to Daniel. "Please tell me this is a joke."
Daniel swung himself up onto his horse—Max, a sturdy Fereldan Forder with a temperament as stubborn as his own—and grinned. "Nope. We're doing it."
Josephine, cleared her throat delicately. "While I admire the... boldness of this endeavor, have we considered the logistics? High dragons are not exactly known for their cooperative nature."
Varric, already mounted on a shaggy pony that looked far too small for him, chuckled. "That's why we're recruiting Bull's Chargers first. And Blackwall. And maybe a few dozen more people with a death wish."
Cullen's expression was a masterpiece of exhausted disbelief. "This is a terrible idea."
Daniel nudged Max forward, the horse snorting impatiently. "Yeah, probably. But it's our terrible idea."
Cassandra groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "Maker, give me patience."
Then after that, gates of Haven swung open and the Inquisition's forces began their march—150 soldiers, supply wagons, scouts, and one very disgruntled Seeker. The path to the Hinterlands was well-trodden, but no less treacherous, the mountain winds howling around them as they descended.
Daniel rode at the front, Cassandra at his side (though she pointedly refused to look at him). Behind them, Varric was regaling a group of starry-eyed recruits with wildly exaggerated tales of his past exploits, while Solas observed the landscape with quiet intensity.
After a long stretch of silence, Cassandra finally spoke, her voice low. "You are actually serious about this."
Daniel glanced at her. "Yep."
She exhaled sharply. "Why?"
He considered the question, his gaze drifting to the horizon. "Because right now, we're just another power scrambling in the dark. The Chantry's in shambles, the mages and templars are tearing each other apart, and something is out there somewhere, laughing. We need something that makes people stop. That makes them listen." He smirked. "And nothing does that like a dragon's head on a pike."
Cassandra was quiet for a long moment. Then, grudgingly: "It would send a message."
Daniel grinned. "See? You do get it."
She shot him a glare. "Do not push your luck."
Cassandra wheeled her horse around sharply, the animal snorting in protest as she fixed Varric with a glare that could have melted steel. "All of this," she bit out, jabbing a finger toward the marching column behind them, "is your fault."
Varric, perched precariously on his horse, blinked up at her with exaggerated innocence. "Now, Seeker, that's a bold accusation. How, exactly, is this my fault?"
"You told him about the high dragon," Cassandra snapped. "You planted the idea in his head like some—some tavern tale, and now he's convinced we should hunt the damn thing!"
Daniel, watching the exchange with undisguised amusement, chimed in, "To be fair, I was already thinking about it."
Cassandra didn't even glance at him. "Quiet."
Varric held up his hands in mock surrender. "Look, all I did was mention there was a dragon in the Hinterlands. I didn't expect anyone to take that as a personal challenge." He paused, then smirked. "Though, in hindsight, I should've known better."
Cassandra's grip on her reins tightened. "You are impossible."
Solas, who had been observing the landscape with detached interest, finally interjected, his voice dry. "If we are assigning blame, perhaps we should consider the dragon's role in this. It did choose to nest in Lady Shayna's Valley. That seems rather provocative."
Cassandra turned her glare on him. "Not helping."
Varric chuckled. "Chuckles has a point. If the dragon didn't want to be hunted, it shouldn't have been so conveniently located."
Daniel snorted. "See? Even the dragon's asking for it."
Cassandra looked skyward, as if praying for divine intervention. "Maker, why do you test me so?"
The march continued, the winding mountain path giving way to the rolling foothills of the Hinterlands. The soldiers moved with disciplined efficiency, scouts ranging ahead to secure the route, while the supply wagons creaked along behind. The mood, despite Cassandra's simmering irritation, was oddly buoyant—Varric's stories had spread, and now half the recruits were shooting awed glances at Daniel, whispering about the "Herald who'd slay a dragon."
Daniel, for his part, was enjoying the attention.
Cassandra, decidedly not, rode in stiff silence for another mile before finally relenting. "Fine. If we are doing this—and I stress the if—then we do it properly. No rushing in. No reckless heroics. We scout the dragon, we plan, and we only engage if we are absolutely certain we can survive."
Daniel grinned. "See? I knew you'd come around."
Cassandra's eye twitched. "I have not 'come around.' I am attempting to mitigate the inevitable disaster."
Varric nudged his pony closer. "So, what's the plan, then? Besides 'don't die horribly,' which, let's be honest, is always step one."
Daniel stretched in his saddle, rolling his shoulders. "First, we find Blackwall. A Warden's got to know something about killing big, nasty things. Then we hit the Storm Coast, pick up Bull and his Chargers, and then we take a look at this dragon."
Solas nodded thoughtfully. "A measured approach. Though I would advise consulting the local wildlife as well. Dragons are territorial. There may be signs—burnt earth, displaced predators—that could tell us more about its habits."
Cassandra exhaled sharply. "At least one of you is thinking sensibly."
Varric smirked. "Don't get used to it."
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of deep purple and fiery orange as the Inquisition's forces finally called a halt. The air grew crisp, the warmth of the day bleeding away into the chill of an autumn night. Around them, the Hinterlands stretched out—rolling hills dotted with the skeletal remains of burnt-out farms, the distant glow of rebel mage camps, and the occasional howl of wolves echoing through the dark.
Cassandra's voice carried across the makeshift camp as she barked orders. "Perimeter secured! First watch, take your positions. The rest of you, get some food and rest—we move at first light."
Soldiers dispersed, some to set up tents, others to start cookfires. The scent of roasting meat and boiling stew soon filled the air, mingling with the earthy smell of damp grass and leather.
Daniel dismounted, giving Max an appreciative pat on the neck before handing the reins to a stablehand. "Easy there, boy. You've earned your oats tonight."
Varric, stretching his back with an audible pop, groaned. "Maker's breath, I hate long rides. My backside's going to be sore for a week."
Cassandra, already unbuckling her armor with practiced efficiency, shot him a look. "Perhaps if you rode a ponyinstead of that... horse—"
Varric held up a finger. "First of all, rude. Second, this 'horse' has carried me through Hinterlands and got more adventures than you've had templar-sanctioned lyrium rations."
Solas, having already claimed a quiet spot near the edge of camp, smirked faintly as he lit a small fire with a flick of his fingers. "I believe the term is 'horse privilege.'"
Daniel snorted. "That's not a thing."
"It is now," Varric declared, plopping down beside the fire with a satisfied sigh.
As the camp settled into the rhythms of night, the inner circle gathered around Solas's fire. The flames cast flickering shadows across their faces, highlighting the weariness in Cassandra's eyes, and the ever-present smirk on Varric's.
Cassandra, was the first to break the comfortable silence. "I've sent word ahead to the local villages. If Warden Blackwall is still in the area, we should have leads by morning."
Varric nodded, his fingers idly tracing the edge of a Bianca. "The scouts have already spotted signs of Grey Warden activity near the Crossroads. Faded banners, old campfires. He's close."
Daniel rubbed his temple. "Let's hope he's more forthcoming and not like the Templaes or Mages we dealt with."
Varric smirked. "What, you didn't enjoy the 'mysterious brooding' routine?"
Daniel shot him a flat look. "I enjoy answers."
Cassandra, poking at the fire with a stick, sighed. "Assuming we find Blackwall, what then? Do we truly believe he can help us against a high dragon?"
Varric leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Hey, if anyone knows how to kill big, scary monsters, it's a Grey Warden. They've been doing it for centuries."
Solas's voice was quiet but firm. "It is not just about killing the dragon. It is about understanding it. High dragons are intelligent, territorial. If we can learn its patterns, we can exploit them."
Daniel stretched his legs out toward the fire, the warmth seeping into his bones. "So we scout first. Find out where it hunts, where it nests. Then we hit it where it hurts."
Cassandra's grip on her stick tightened. "And if it doesn't have a weakness?"
Daniel grinned. "Then we make one."
Later, as the camp quieted and the fires burned low, Daniel found himself taking first watch. The night was still, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant call of an owl.
Footsteps approached, and he turned to see Cassandra, her armor replaced with a simpler tunic and cloak. She carried two steaming mugs.
"Coffee," she said, thrusting one at him. "You'll need it."
Daniel took it gratefully, the bitter warmth chasing away the last of the evening's chill. "Couldn't sleep?"
Cassandra sighed, leaning against a nearby tree. "Too much to think about."
They stood in silence for a moment, watching the stars. Then—
"You're really set on this dragon hunt, aren't you?" she asked, her voice quieter than usual.
Daniel took a sip of coffee, considering. "Yeah. I am."
Cassandra shook her head. "It's reckless."
"Probably."
"But you're doing it anyway."
Daniel smirked. "That's the fun part."
Cassandra groaned. "Maker preserve me from stubborn men."
Daniel chuckled, clinking his mug against hers. "Too late for that, Seeker."
And as the night deepened, the camp slept—save for two figures by the fire, one resigned, the other grinning, both knowing that come morning, the real work would begin.
________________________________________________
Name : Daniel Carter
Race: Elf
Level 5 : 2475/2500 EXP
Professions: Mage
Gold Coins: 2289 coins
Weapon: Staff of the Dragon
Armor: Light Armor of the Dragon and Templar Scribe Scowl
Accessories: Token of the Packmaster and Belt of Health
Inventory: Acolyte Ice Staff, Morning Star, Stiletto, Hunting Longbow, Fire Resistance Cowl, Mercenary Coat, Acolyte Fire Staff, Disciple Lighting Staff, Apprentice Armor, Qunari Battleaxe, Raider Hatchet, 2 Disciple Fire Staff, Apprentice Mail, Qunari Buckler, Medium Adventure Armor, Mindleech Staff, Soldier's Nemesis, 2 Recruit's Dirk, Reinforced Dagger, Sledgehammer, Disciple Lighting Staff, Apprentice Armor, Exacting Longbow, Barbarian Lord Maul, Lifeward Amulet, and Grenade Belt
Crafting Materials: 37 Elfroot, 62 Iron, 2 Blue Vitriol, 1 Dawn Lotus, 11 Silk, 17 Lambswool, 3 Royal Elfroot, 10 Ram Leather, 23 Drakestone, 4 Fire Essence, 3 Blue Vitriol, 11 Canine Leather, 4 Plaidewaive, 2 Frost Essence, 1 Fade-Touched Iron, 4 Blood Lotus, 5 Embrium, 10 Spindleweed, 16 Onyx, 3 Ironbarks, 2 Crystal Grace, and 1 Serpenstone
Upgrades: Sigil of the Gamordan Stromrider and Sigil of Deathroot
Valuables: 2 Shadow Essence, 1 Ram Horn, 1 Dreamer Rag, 5 Weapon Fragment, 2 Bowstring, 8 Mysterious Shards, Nevarra Skull, 1 Wisp Essence, and 1 Wolf Fangs
Potions: Lesser Health Potions x8, Lesser Regeneration Potions x5, and x5 Lyrium Potion
Skills: Chain Lighting, Flashfire, Barrier, Winter's Grasp, and Energy Barrage
Armor Schematics: Shokra-taar Schematic, Antaam-saar Schematic, Avvar Armor Schematics Acquired, Stone-Bear Armor Schematics, Vanguard Coat Schematic, Sturdy Defender Coat Schematic, and Scout Mail Arms Schematic
Weapon Schematics: Curved Dagger Schematic and Hunting Bow Schematic
Potion Recipe: Lesser Regeneration Potion recipe and Lyrium Potion Recipe
Bottles of Thedas: Vint-9 Rowan's Rose and Carnal, 8:69 Blessed