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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.
The fire crackled between them, casting long shadows across Cassandra's face as she processed Daniel's question. For a moment, the only sounds were the distant calls of night birds and the occasional rustle of soldiers shifting in their bedrolls. Then—
Cassandra let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "Control a high dragon? Have you lost what little sense the Maker gave you?"
Daniel swirled the dregs of his coffee, unfazed. "I'm just saying—if we're going to kill it anyway, why not try for something bigger?"
Varric, who had been pretending to sleep nearby, cracked one eye open. "Oh, this I've got to hear."
Cassandra's glare could have melted steel. "This is not a joke, Varric."
Solas, who had been meditating nearby, spoke without opening his eyes. "The idea is not without precedent. The Tevinter Imperium once bound dragons to their will."
Daniel snapped his fingers. "See? If those pompous magisters could do it—"
"They were blood mages," Cassandra interrupted, her voice rising. "They sacrificed hundreds, maybe thousands to fuel that magic! And even then, the dragons they controlled were mere shadows of their true selves—broken things." Her hands clenched around her mug. "Is that what you want for the Inquisition? To become slavers of beasts?"
The fire popped loudly in the sudden silence.
Daniel set his mug down carefully. "No. That's not what I meant." He ran a hand through his hair, the playful edge gone from his voice. "But think about it—if we could convince one, not force it... A dragon at our side would change everything."
Cassandra opened her mouth, then closed it. When she spoke again, her words were measured. "You do not *convince* a high dragon, Daniel. They are not mabari to be tamed with treats and scratches behind the ears. They are ancient, proud, and they remember when we were the ones cowering in caves."
Varric sat up, suddenly serious. "She's got a point, kid. Even if you pulled it off, the politics would be a nightmare. Orlais would see it as a threat—a weapon pointed at their borders. Ferelden would panic. We'd have Exalted Marches called on us before the dragon finished its first nap."
Solas finally opened his eyes, his gaze sharp. "There is another consideration. A high dragon is not merely a beast—it is a force of nature. To bend one to your will would require either unimaginable power... or an understanding few possess."
Daniel leaned forward, the firelight reflecting in his eyes. "So we find another way. We don't break it. We... negotiate."
Cassandra made a strangled noise. "Negotiate. With. A dragon."
"Why not?" Daniel spread his hands. "They're intelligent, right? They have their own agendas. Maybe we can find common ground."
Varric rubbed his chin. "You're talking about offering it something. But what does a dragon want that we could possibly—"
"Safety," Solas said suddenly. All eyes turned to him. "High dragons nest in remote areas for a reason. They fear poachers, would-be 'heroes,' and yes—other dragons. If we could guarantee protection..."
Daniel's grin returned, slow and dangerous. "And suddenly the Inquisition isn't just another human organization. We're the ones who speak for dragons."
Cassandra stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the ground. "This is madness. Even if such a thing were possible, the moment word got out, every nation in Thedas would turn against us. We would be seen as worse than the Tevinter magisters—at least they were honest about their tyranny!"
The camp had gone quiet around them, soldiers pretending not to listen while straining to hear every word.
Daniel rose to meet her, his voice low. "Or they'd see us as the only thing standing between them and a very angry, very allied high dragon. That's a different kind of power, Cassandra."
For a long moment, they stood locked in silent battle—the Seeker's righteous fury against the Herald's reckless ambition. Then—
A new voice cut through the tension. "Well, this is an interesting strategy session."
Leliana emerged from the shadows, her hood pulled low. "I leave Haven for one evening to check on my scouts and you guys, to find you planning to recruit a dragon." Her lips quirked. "I approve."
Cassandra threw her hands up. "Now you're encouraging him?!"
Leliana shrugged. "If we're to be branded heretics and rebels regardless, why not embrace it fully?" She turned to Daniel, her eyes glinting. "But Cassandra is correct about one thing—the moment you approach that dragon with anything but a sword, the game changes. Permanently."
Daniel exhaled, the weight of it settling on his shoulders. "I know."
Varric whistled low. "So. Just to be clear—we're not just hunting a dragon anymore. We're trying to hire one."
Solas chuckled darkly. "I did say this would be more interesting than diplomacy."
Cassandra looked between them all, then downed the rest of her coffee in one gulp. "Maker preserve me from fools and madmen." She pointed at Daniel.
Cassandra's mug hit the ground with a dull thud, coffee soaking into the dirt as she threw her hands up. "Why are we even having this conversation!?" Her voice carried across the quiet camp, causing a few nearby soldiers to duck their heads and pretend they weren't listening.
Leliana's smirk only widened as she leaned against a nearby supply crate, arms crossed. "Because it's entertaining. And because someone needs to keep you all from getting too predictable."
Varric barked a laugh, slapping his knee. "Oh, I like her. Can we keep her?"
Daniel, still grinning like a fool, gestured to Leliana. "See? Even the Spymaster thinks it's a good idea."
Cassandra looked between them all, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and reluctant amusement. "You are all impossible."
Leliana pushed off the crate, her hood slipping back just enough to reveal the glint of her eyes in the firelight. "And yet, here we are." She tilted her head toward the outskirts of camp. "But I did have another reason for visiting. My scouts reported movement near the Crossroads—about Warden Blackwall. Faded, but recent. If we want to recruit him and ask him about the disappearance of the Grey Wardens, we should move at first light."
That sobered the group quickly.
Daniel nodded, the playful edge fading from his voice. "Then we ride at dawn."
Leliana gave a small salute before turning to leave. "Don't stay up too late dreaming of dragons, I will return to Haven now."
As she melted back into the shadows, Varric chuckled. "You know, for someone who deals in secrets, she's got a real flair for the dramatic."
Cassandra sighed, rubbing her temples. "I need sleep. Actual sleep. Not... whatever this is." She gestured vaguely at the group.
Daniel clapped her on the shoulder—a move that earned him a withering glare. "Cheer up, Seeker. Tomorrow, we find a Warden. Then, we get a dragon."
Cassandra groaned. "Maker, strike me down now."
But as she stomped off toward her tent, even she couldn't quite hide the faintest hint of a smile.
The first light of dawn painted the eastern sky in pale gold as the Inquisition's forces roused themselves from sleep. The camp came alive with the clatter of armor, the snorting of horses, and the low murmur of soldiers exchanging quiet words. Frost crunched underfoot as Daniel emerged from his tent, stretching the stiffness from his limbs. The mountain air was sharp with the promise of a clear day—perfect for travel, less perfect for Cassandra's mood, if the scowl she wore was any indication.
Varric was already up, perched on a supply crate and scribbling in a small notebook. He glanced up as Daniel approached. "Morning, Sunshine. Sleep well?"
Daniel rubbed his eyes. "Like a nug in a Blight."
Varric snorted. "Charming imagery."
Cassandra strode past them, her armor gleaming in the early light. "If you two are quite finished, we have a Warden to find."
Solas appeared silently beside them, his staff tapping lightly against the frozen ground. "The scouts have already broken camp ahead of us. We should make good time to the Crossroads."
Daniel nodded, moving toward the picket line where Max stood waiting. The Fereldan Forder tossed his head in greeting, breath steaming in the cold air. "Ready for another long ride, boy?"
Max snorted, as if to say Do I have a choice?
The column moved out in good order—riders at the front, supply wagons creaking along behind, and scouts ranging ahead to secure the path. The mountain pass gave way to rolling foothills, the snow thinning as they descended into the Hinterlands proper. The landscape shifted from barren rock to patches of stubborn grass and the occasional twisted tree clinging to life between stones.
Varric rode up beside Daniel, his pony keeping pace with Max's longer strides. "So, what's the plan once we find this Warden? Ask nicely? Bribe him with ale? Challenge him to a duel for his allegiance?"
Daniel smirked. "I was thinking more along the lines of 'Hey, the world's ending, want to help?'"
Cassandra, riding just ahead, sighed loudly. "This is why we cannot have nice things."
Solas chuckled. "I find honesty is often the most surprising tactic."
The morning passed in relative quiet, the only sounds the rhythmic clop of hooves and the occasional call of a scout reporting back. The sun climbed higher, burning away the last of the morning chill.
Daniel reined Max to a halt atop a small rise, the Hinterlands sprawling before them in a patchwork of golden fields and dense forests. The others gathered around as he turned in his saddle, the morning sun casting sharp shadows across his face.
"Alright, listen up," he said, his voice carrying easily in the crisp air. "Once we find Blackwall and get him on board, we'll wrap up any remaining business here in the Hinterlands—except Redcliffe."
Cassandra's brows drew together. "Except Redcliffe? The mages could be powerful allies—"
"And we don't have the influence to sway them yet," Daniel interrupted. "Fiona might have invited us, but the rest of the rebel mages? They're still skittish. We push too hard, too soon, and we'll just scare them off."
Solas nodded thoughtfully. "A prudent approach. The mages have been hunted for too long to trust easily."
Varric scratched his chin. "So, what? We just ignore the giant 'Mages Welcome' sign hanging over Redcliffe?"
Daniel smirked. "For now. Once we've got more weight behind our name—say, after recruiting a certain Qunari mercenary company—then we can go back and make the mages an offer they can't refuse."
Cassandra exhaled sharply but didn't argue.
Daniel continued, ticking off points on his fingers. "So: Blackwall first. Then we clear out any lingering problems in the Hinterlands—bandits, supply caches, whatever Leliana's scouts have flagged. After that, we head back to Haven, check in with Leliana about our mysterious Red Jenny contact, and then we make for the Storm Coast to pick up Bull and his Chargers."
Varric whistled. "That's a lot of walking. My feet are already complaining."
Cassandra shot him a look. "You're riding."
"Exactly. And my horse's feet are tired."
Daniel ignored the byplay, his gaze drifting northward, where the Storm Coast's churning waters waited. "Once we've got Bull's crew, we'll have the muscle we need to start making real moves. The mages, the templars, whatever's going on with the missing Wardens—we'll be in a position to deal with it all."
Solas studied him for a long moment. "You've given this a great deal of thought."
Daniel shrugged. "Someone's got to."
Cassandra's lips pressed into a thin line, but after a moment, she gave a grudging nod. "It's... not a terrible plan."
Varric gasped, clutching his chest. "Was that praise? Seeker, I think I'm getting emotional."
Cassandra's glare could have melted steel. "Do not push your luck, dwarf."
Laughing, Daniel nudged Max forward. "Come on. The Warden's waiting."
The Crossroads came into view as the last light of day faded behind the Frostbacks, painting the sky in deep purples and fiery oranges. The small village was a hive of activity—Inquisition banners flapped in the evening breeze, soldiers patrolled the perimeter, and refugees huddled around cookfires, their faces drawn with exhaustion but lit with cautious hope as the Herald's party arrived.
A scout in Leliana's colors—a wiry woman with a scar across her cheek—stepped forward to greet them. "Herald," she said with a crisp salute. "We've been expecting you."
Daniel dismounted, his boots crunching on the gravel path. "At ease. What's the situation?"
The scout nodded toward the northern hills. "Warden Blackwall's been spotted near Luthias Lake. He's set up a makeshift camp there—training villagers to defend themselves against bandits, from what we've observed."
Cassandra, already unbuckling her saddlebags, frowned. "Training villagers?"
The scout shrugged. "Seems so. Teaching them how to hold a sword, basic formations. That sort of thing."
Varric let out an impressed whistle. "A Warden playing drill sergeant? Now that's something you don't see every day."
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck, considering. The idea of Blackwall taking time to train refugees instead of just moving on was... interesting. It spoke of a man who cared more than the typical Grey Warden stoicism suggested.
"Alright," he said finally. "We'll head up there at first light. No sense stumbling around in the dark."
Cassandra nodded in agreement. "Agreed. We should rest while we can." She turned to the lieutenant in charge of their escort, a grizzled veteran with a salt-and-pepper beard. "Get the men settled. Double the watch—I don't want any surprises tonight."
The lieutenant saluted. "Aye, Seeker. We'll keep things tight."
As the soldiers dispersed to set up camp, Daniel turned back to the scout. "This training Blackwall's doing—how's it looking?"
The scout hesitated, then cracked a small smile. "Honestly? Not terrible. He's got them drilling with sticks and old farming tools, but they're learning. Even got a few kids acting as lookouts."
Solas, who had been quietly observing, tilted his head. "An unusual tactic for a Grey Warden. They are not typically known for... community outreach."
Daniel smirked. "Maybe this one's different."
Varric clapped him on the shoulder. "Or maybe he's just really bored. Wardens aren't exactly drowning in entertainment these days."
Cassandra sighed. "Regardless, we'll find out tomorrow. For now—food, rest. That's an order."
The Inquisition's campfires flickered to life as the last traces of sunlight vanished. Soldiers swapped stories over steaming bowls of stew, their laughter mingling with the occasional clink of armor. Daniel sat with his inner circle around their own fire, picking at his meal as the others talked.
Varric was in the middle of recounting one of his more outlandish tales—something involving a brothel, a goat, and a very confused templar—when Cassandra abruptly cut in.
"Enough. I refuse to believe that happened."
Varric placed a hand over his heart. "Seeker, you wound me. Every word is true."
"Not a single word was true," Solas remarked dryly.
Daniel chuckled, but his attention kept drifting north, toward the hills where Blackwall waited. The idea of a Warden training villagers didn't fit the usual mold. Most Wardens were lone wolves, especially now, with whatever was happening to their order. So why was this one sticking around?
Cassandra noticed his distraction. "You're thinking about him."
Daniel shrugged. "Just wondering what his game is."
"Maybe he doesn't have one," Varric offered. "Maybe he's just a decent guy trying to help."
Solas steepled his fingers. "Or perhaps he is waiting for something. Or someone."
Daniel poked at the fire with a stick, sending up a shower of sparks. "Or maybe he just wants these people to be safe," he said quietly. "Look around. The world's falling apart. Mages and templars tearing each other to pieces, the Breach spitting demons out like bad tavern food—it's no wonder people are turning to banditry. And bandits? They're having a field day with all this chaos."
The firelight cast flickering shadows across their faces as the group fell silent. Somewhere in the camp, a soldier laughed too loudly at a joke, the sound cutting through the night.
Cassandra's expression softened slightly. "You think he's doing this out of... what? Guilt? Duty?"
Daniel shrugged. "Does it matter? He's helping. That's more than most are doing these days."
Varric leaned back, stretching his legs toward the fire. "Kid's got a point. Back in Kirkwall, I saw plenty of folks who could've stepped up when things went to shit. Didn't. This Warden? At least he's trying."
Solas studied the flames, his voice thoughtful. "Grey Wardens are sworn to fight the Blight, not bandits. And yet, here he is. It suggests either a man who takes his vows very broadly... or one who is running from something."
Daniel tossed the stick into the fire. "Or both."
A gust of wind sent the smoke swirling around them, making Varric cough and wave a hand in front of his face. "Ugh. Nothing like a campfire to remind you why cities were invented."
Cassandra stood abruptly, brushing off her trousers. "Whatever his reasons, we'll find out tomorrow. For now, we should rest. Dawn comes early."
As the others dispersed to their bedrolls, Daniel lingered by the fire a moment longer, staring into the embers.
Tomorrow, he thought. We'll see what kind of Warden Blackwall really is. And with that, he kicked dirt over the flames, plunging the campsite into darkness.
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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