A/n: Don't own DAI, if I did, I'd be rich. Alas I am poor... This is the only disclaimer for this story, because you people aren't stupid... I hope. This is co-authored with my sister, Deelzy. She doesn't own DAI, either. Obviously.


"Why? WHY?!" From her tone, the Inquisitor was decidedly unpleased at the sight of the circling dragon overhead. Not that Varric could blame her. This particular one looked extremely large and grumpy... It disturbed him that he'd actually seen enough dragons he had a basis for that comparison...

"Which Creator thought it would be a grand joke to make so fehendis lasa many dragons?! Can we please manage to go ONE place without finding another Fen'Harel damned high dragon?!" The elven warrior snarled, unslinging her greatsword.

"Aw, come on, Boss! This is fun! Remember that roar the last one gave, and how it turned into a rattling gurgle when you cut its throat?!" Bull whooped, getting a dubious look from Lavellan, Varric and Dorian.

"Fine, you get to play distraction this time." The elf snapped, and the giant qunari dashed of whooping and hollering like Isabella when drunk. Lavellan sent a sidelong look at the grimacing mage next to her.

"Yes, I know, I apparently prefer my men even crazier than I knew," Dorian said, with a long-suffering sigh, throwing barriers up for all his companions.

"How many does this make?" Cassandra sighed, leaning on the dragon's skull, as Inquisition soldiers, with many pauses to send awed looks at Lavellan, began the gory work of butchering the beast. There was a pause for the Inquisitor to think.

"Umm... Hinterlands, Crestwood, Western Approach, that island off the Storm Coast, Emerald Graves, no less than three in less than a quarter mile in Emprise du Lion, Exalted Plains, which makes this one the tenth... The only places we haven't stumbled upon or been attacked by a high dragon are the Mire and the Oasis..."

"Did you see how she sent Varric flying thirty feet?!" Bull chortled merrily, yanking dragon fangs out by hand, while the other workers had to use chisels and mallets.

"Don't remind me, Tiny. It is going to take hours of work to get all the sand out of Bianca's mechanisms so she doesn't jamb up." The blonde dwarf, who had a liberal coating of sand stuck to him with dragon blood, growled.

"Doesn't durgenlen translate to 'children of the stone', Inquisitor?"

"Yes, Dorian, as you already know," Lavellan appeared to be in a worse mood than the battered and sandy dwarf, batting away healers fussing over her formerly broken arm, and glowering at where her favorite sword was lodged in the skull of the dragon.

"I think Varric's more of a 'child of the sand-monster' at the moment." the Tevinter snickered.

"Please ire mori in foramine, Sparkler."

"Children, play nicely. Insult each other in a language everyone can understand." Vivienne said, with her characteristic superior half-smile.

"Whatsit matter as long as they can understand it, Lady Fancyknickersinabunch?" Sera sneered.

"I'm glad I didn't have to face this one," Blackwall muttered, handing Varric a vial of weapons-oil and an enchanted cleaning cloth.

"Great wings flapping overhead, screaming, have to hide, sandstorm choking me, wagon beasts eaten, we're stranded now. Beautiful, but terrifying, glad it gone. The dragon won't hurt the scouts and travelers anymore. We helped them." More than one person jumped and yelped at Cole's sudden appearance.

"Yes, we did, Cole," Lavellan said, reaching up to wrap an arm around the spirit-boy's shoulders. Not for the first time, Varric wondered how the tiny woman could swing around weapons the same size as Bull used...

"Freidrich is sad she is dead, but happy about it too. Why?"

"He wanted to watch her, but he is content to investigate the body, as well, Kid." Varric sighed, and sent a resentful look at the scratch to Bianca's finish.

"She was an impressively large specimen. I am surprised that there was so little damage to the group." Solas's mild tones interrupted Varric's internal monolog of swearing, when the dwarf realized that he'd have to replace the sight and arms of his beloved crossbow, entirely.

"Freckles had a broken arm and shattered collarbone, I had three broken ribs and a sprained knee. Tiny's whole chest was laid open, and Sparkler is going to be moping about the damage to his hair and mustache for week, ignoring the fact that he had second and third degree burns over his entire body. How is that only 'a little' injured, Chuckles?" The dwarf grumbled, feeling the urge to gratuitously send a few more bolts into the dead dragon.

"Hey, don't take your frustration over the fact your girlfriends got banged up, out on Solas, Handsome. You do recall the state we were in after our first dragon, I hope?" Varric winced at the Inquisitor's rebuke, remembering all too clearly the fact that Bull had left after a frantic scout summoned him, and returned carrying a half-dead Inquisitor in one arm, and supporting a staggering Cassandra on the other, while the scout acted as a, rather terrified, living crutch for Vivienne. It's taken the best healers in Skyhold a week to get them back on their feet.

"Hey, Boss!"

"What now, Bull?"

"I just thought of something!"

"Uh-oh," Sera whispered to Varric, who whole-heartedly agreed.

"We still have Corypheus' dragon to fight!"

"Go jump in the Mire and drown, Bull!"