"We arrived in the dead of night. We had been tracking the maleficar for days, and finally had him cornered... or so we thought.
As we approached, a home on the edge of the town exploded, sending splinters of wood and fist-sized chunks of rocks into our ranks. We had but moments to regroup before fire rained from the sky, the sounds of destruction wrapped in a hideous laughter from the center of the village.
There, perched atop the spire of the village chantry, stood the mage. But he was human no longer.
We shouted prayers to the Maker and deflected what magic we could, but as we fought, the creature fought harder. I saw my comrades fall, burned by the flaming sky or crushed by debris. The monstrous creature, looking as if a demon were wearing a man like a twisted suit of skin, spotted me and grinned. We had forced it to this, I realized; the mage had made this pact, given himself over to the demon to survive our assault."
--Transcribed from a tale told by a former templar in Cumberland, 8:84 Blessed.
It is known that mages are able to walk the Fade while completely aware of their surroundings, unlike most others who may only enter the realm as dreamers and leave it scarcely aware of their experience. Demons are drawn to mages, though whether it is because of this awareness or simply by virtue of their magical power in our world is unknown.
Regardless of the reason, a demon always attempts to possess a mage when it encounters one--by force or by making some kind of deal depending on the strength of the mage. Should the demon get the upper hand, the result is an unholy union known as an abomination. Abominations have been responsible for some of the worst cataclysms in history, and the notion that some mage in a remote tower could turn into such a creature unbeknownst to any was the driving force behind the creation of the Circle of Magi.
Thankfully, abominations are rare. The Circle has methods for weeding out those who are too at risk for demonic possession, and scant few mages would give up their free will to submit to such a bond with a demon. But once an abomination is created, it will do its best to create more. Considering that entire squads of templars have been known to fall at the hands of a single abomination, it is not surprising that the Chantry takes the business of the Circle of Magi very serious indeed.
"Upon ascending to the second floor of the tower, we were greeted by a gruesome sight: a ragged collection of bones wearing the robes of one of the senior enchanters. I had known her for years, watched her raise countless apprentices, and now she was a mere puppet for some demon."
--Transcribed from a tale told by a templar in Antiva City, 7:13 Storm
Demons, of course, have no form in our world. When they enter, either where the Veil is particularly thin or through blood magic summoning, they must take possession of a body.
When a pride demon takes control of the corpse of a mage, an arcane horror is born. Although they appear to be little more than bones, these are fierce creatures, possessing not only all the spellcasting abilities of a living mage, but also the capacity to heal and even command other animated corpses.
"In Darkness eternal they searched,
For those who had goaded them on,
Until at last they found their prize,
Their god, their betrayer:
The sleeping dragon Dumat. Their taint
Twisted even the false-god, and the whisperer
Awoke at last, in pain and horror, and led
Them to wreak havoc upon all the nations of the world:
The first Blight."
--Threnodies 8:7
The false dragon-gods of the Tevinter Imperium lie buried deep within the earth, where they have been imprisoned since the Maker cast them down.
No one knows what it is that drives the darkspawn in their relentless search for the sleeping Old Gods. Perhaps it is instinct, as moths will fly into torch flames. Perhaps there is some remnant of desire for vengeance upon the ones who goaded the magisters to assault heaven. Whatever the reason, when darkspawn find one of these ancient dragons, it is immediately afflicted by the taint. It awakens twisted and corrupted, and leads the darkspawn in a full-scale invasion of the land: a Blight.
Legend has it that when Andraste's Ashes were taken into hiding, some of her closest disciples gave themselves to the fire, that their restless souls might remain to guard her final resting place forever.
Whether they are the spirits of Andraste's disciples or merely Fade spirits, the temple that houses the Sacred Urn is filled with wraiths. Created from a burnt corpse, an ash wraith is a powerful and amorphous opponent able to lash and smother while being immune to most physical attacks. Even if successfully dispersed, it can reform at a later time. Magic is the only real way to fight such a creature, wind and ice attacks being the most useful.
They are capable of creating small whirlwinds that are devastating to anyone unfortunate enough to get close, and their touch leaves a person drained.
"No beast is more beloved by Dirthamen than the bear. When the world was new, Dirthamen gave one secret to each creature to keep. The foxes traded their secrets to Andruil for wings. The hares shouted theirs to the treetops. The birds sold theirs for gold and silver. Only the bears kept Dirthamen's gift, deep within their dens, they slept the months away in the company of their secrets and nothing else.
When Dirthamen discovered what had been done with his gifts, he ***ed the wings from the foxes, silenced the voices of the hares, and turned the birds into paupers. but the bears he honored for their steadfastness."
--Transcribed from a Dalish tale, 9:8 Dragon.
Normally, it is almost unheard of for bears to attack travelers. They are, in fact, so shy and so inactive during the day that most people never encounter a bear at all. However, should a bear be provoked, they are remarkably dangerous. The normally placid-seeming creatures become enraged, and can strike massive blows with their paws, capable of knocking a man off his feet.
"There's only two things a noble will step aside for: Paragons and angry brontos."
--Dwarven saying.
This hulking beast was originally bred by the dwarven Shaperate as a beast of burden and food source, the rough equivalent to surface oxen and cows. Some versions of bronto have even been developed as dwarven mounts, valued far more for their sure-footedness and stamina than for their speed. While present within Orzammar in large numbers, some bronto still exist in packs within the Deep Roads, having returned to a wild state after the fall of the dwarven kingdoms. They require remarkably little sustenance, consuming organic material from water, fungus and even rocks (hence the "rock-licker" appellation used by many dwarves to describe bronto), and exist in primarily dormant states until provoked. An angry, charging bronto is considered to be a rather dangerous opponent.
It is well-known that darkspawn carry off those captured in their raids to underground lairs. most assume that the prisoners are eaten, or somehow tainted and turned into darkspawn themselves, though this could never account for the sheer numbers of the horde. Forays made by Grey Wardens into the underground have uncovered the answer.
When exposed to the darkspawn taint, men are driven mad and eventually die. Women, however, undergo great pain and gross mutations that cause most of them to perish. Those that survive, however, become the grotesque broodmothers. These giant, twisted behemoths birth many darkspawn at a time; a single broodmother can create thousands of darkspawn over the course of her lifetime. Each type of darkspawn is born from a different broodmother: Humans produce hurlocks, dwarves produce genlocks, elves give birth to shrieks, and from qunari are born the ogres.
"To anyone who doubts the wickedness of blood magic, I say: With your own hands, strike down the corpses of your own brothers who have fallen in battle to a maleficar, then we may discuss morality."
--Knight-Commander Benedictus, in a letter to the Divine, 5:46 Exalted.
The walking dead are not, as the superstitious are wont to believe, the living come back for revenge. They are, rather, corpses possessed by demons.
The shambling corpse, controlled by a demon of sloth, causes its enemies to become weak and fatigued. Corpses possessed by rage demons go berserk and simply wade into their opponents mindlessly. Devouring corpses are held by hunger demons and feed upon the living. The more powerful demons rarely deign to possess a dead host.
"A fool trusts his eyes. A wise man fears every rock is a deepstalker"
--
Possibly the strangest of all the creatures found in the Deep Roads is the deepstalker. Tezpadam, as the dwarves call them, hunt in packs, generally by burrowing underground and then striking when their prey is in their midst.
Stalkers come in several types. Spitters have venom glands and can spit secretions that slow or injure their prey. Jumpers hurl themselves at their targets, knocking them down and making the kill easier. The most common variety scares its prey, leaving the unfortunate victim helpless against the rest of the pack.
"In all my studies, I must say that the most intriguing was my interview with the desire demon. That the creature was willing to speak with me was a sign that this was no mere monster, mindlessly driven by its nature, but rather a rational being as interested in me as I was in it. It took a form that I would call female, though I had no doubt that it could appear otherwise. I wondered if it appeared as it did because I wanted it to or because I expected it to. She... and, indeed, I could only think of her as such now... smiled warmly at me and laughed a musical sound that seemed to thrill my old heart.
So frightened was I of this creature's legendary abilities to twist the hearts of men, and so relieved was I when I looked across the table into her dark eyes. This was a fearsome creature of the Fade, but as I spoke with her I slowly came to realize that this demon was merely as misunderstood as we mages are, ourselves."
--From the journal of former Senior Enchanter Maleus, once of the Circle of Rivain, declared apostate in 9:20 Dragon.
Of all the threats from beyond the Veil, few are more insidious and deceptively deadly than the desire demon, In folklore, such demons are characterized as peddlers of lust, luring their prey into a sexual encounter only to be slain at the culmination. While a desire demon can indeed deal in pleasure, in truth they deal with any manner of desire that humans can possess: wealth, power, and beauty, to name a few.
Far more intelligent than the bestial hunger and rage demons, and more ambitious than the demons of sloth, these dark spirits are among the most skilled at tempting mages into possession. Many who serve the whims of a desire demon never realize it. They are manipulated by illusions and deceit if not outright mind control, although these demons are reluctant to resort to such crude measures. Instead, they seem to take great pleasure in corruption. The greater the deceit, the greater their victory.
Only demos of pride prove more fearsome opponents when roused. Their abilities to affect the mind allow them to assume disguises and even alter the environment to their purposes, not to mention the great strength and speed they possess if they should have to resort to more physical means. Most often a desire demon will attempt to bargain its way to freedom if overpowered--many stories exist that depict mages defeating desire demons to the point where a wish can be wrested from them. It should be noted that in such stories the demon almost always gets the upper hand even when the mage thinks his wish has been granted.
Dragonlings
Newly-hatched dragons are roughly the size of a deer and voraciously hungry. They live for a short time in their mother's lair before venturing out on their own. The slender, wingless creatures are born in vast numbers, as only a few ever make it to adulthood.
Drakes
Male dragons never develop into the winged monsters of myth. At most, their forelegs grow vestigial spurs where wing membrane might have been.
Once they have fully matured, males immediately seek out the lairs of adult females. When they find one, they move into her lair and spend the rest of their lives there, hunting for her and defending her young. They will aggressively defend her nest, and many would-be dragon hunters have been lost to their fiery breath and crushing blows from their tails.
Dragons
High Dragons
A fully mature adult female dragon is the high dragon: the great monster of legend, the rarest of all dragonkind. These dragons hollow out massive lairs for themselves, for they need the space to house their harem of drakes as well as their eggs and the dragonlings.
High dragons are seldom seen. They spend most of their time sleeping and mating, living off the prey their drakes bring back. But once every hundred tears or so, the high dragon prepares for clutching my emerging from her lair and taking wing. She will fly far and wide, eating hundreds of animals, most often livestock, over a course of a few weeks and leaving smoldering devastation in her wake. She then returns to her lair to lay her eggs and will not appear in the skies again for another century.
Codex Entry 12: Genlock
These are the most common darkspawn in the underground. Stocky and tough, genlocks are notoriously diffi*** to kill, even by magic.
Alphas
In any group of genlocks, there is usually one who is dominant. As the tallest, strongest, and smartest of their kind, alphas serve as a sort of commander, directing or bullying the others in combat.
Emissaries
The most intelligent of the alphas become gifted sorcerers, with many abilities akin to blood magics. These are the emissaries and they usually only appear during a Blights.
What the Blight does not destroy, it corrupts.
Any creature infected with the darkspawn taint that does not have the good fortune to die outright becomes a ghoul: a twisted shadow of itself.
The name originally comes from men--whether human, dwarven, or elven--who became tainted, usually while being held as a captive food source by the darkspawn. They would turn cannibal, preying on other captives, slaves to the will of the archdemon, driven mad by pain.
During a Blight, the corruption of the darkspawn spreads through the wilder areas of thedas and infects the animals found there. This produces grotesque, enraged bears called bereskarn as well as blight wolves.
Fortunately, ghouls rarely survive their corruption for long.
Once a crucial part of Orzammar's defenses, golems have all but vanished as the secret to their manufacture was lost over a thousand years ago. What few golems remain are guarded closely by the Shaperate, brought out when the battle with the darkspawn grows desperate enough to risk their loss. No one now would sell a golem for any price, but in ancient times, dwarves sold many golems to the magister lords of Tevinter.
They are devastating weapons in war, living siege engines, capable of hurling boulders like a catapult or plowing through enemy lines like an earth quake.
No creature is more revered by the Dalish than the halla. No other animal has a god of its own. These white stags are much larger than ordinary deer, and the Dalish halla keepers carve their antlers as they grow, making them curve into intricate designs. In ancient times, these stags bore elven knights into combat, but since the fall of the Dales, they are used less as mounts and more to pull the aravels.
Taller than their genlock cousins, the hurlocks are roughly of human-size but are possessed of considerable strength and constitution. The shock troop of the darkspawns, a single berserking hurlock can often be a match for numerous opponents at once. They are known to adorn themselves with roughly-carved tattoos to keep track of their kills and deeds, though it is unknown whether or not there is a uniform standard to these markings.
Alphas
Alphas hurlocks are more intelligent and more skilled fighters, often serving as commanders or even generals.
Emissaries
Hurlock emissaries have also been known to appear during a Blight. These darkspawn are the only ones recorded as being capable of human speech and are often capable of employing magic.
Dogs are an essential part of Fereldan ***ure, and no dog is more prized that the maribi. The breed is as old as myth, said to have been bred from the wolves who served Dane.Prized for their intelligence and loyalty, these dogs are more than mere weapons or status symbols: The hounds choose their masters, and pair with them for life. To be the master of a mabari anywhere in Ferelden is to be recognized instantly as a person of worth.
The mabari are an essential part of Fereldan military strategy. Trained hounds can easily pull knights from horseback or break lines of pikemen, and the sight and sound of a wave of war dogs, howling and snarling, has been known to cause panic among even the most hardened infantry soldiers.
"Hip deep in mad nugs.
Our screams deafen their keen ears.
We will be nug poop."
--From Songs That Only Nugs can Hear by Paragon Ebryan, 5:84 Exalted
The nug is an omnivore common to the Deep Roads, a hairless creature that is almost blind as well as completely docile. It spends most of its time wading in shallow pools as well as mud pits, feeding on small insects, worms, and (in a pinch) limestone and simple metals. indeed, the digestive system of the nug is legendary, able to make a meal out of almost anything a nug finds on the cavern floors. Nugs reproduce rapidly, spreading into any niche within the Deep Roads they can find, and serve to support a variety of predators such as giant spiders and deepstalkers. So, too, do dwarves make meals out of them... nugs are, in the poorer slum portions of Orzammar, one of the most common sources of meat available. Some dwarves even domesticate the creatures, claiming to find the creature's high-pitched squeaks pleasing.
Towering over their darkspawn-kin, the massive ogres are a rare sight on the battlefield. Traditionally, they only appear during a Blight,but some records claim that ogres have been spotted in the Deep roads hunting alone or in small groups. At least one report by the Grey Wardens claims that an ogre was spotted alone in the Kocari Wilds in 9:19 Dragon, though it was weakened and easily dispatched. Up to a hundred of these creatures can accompany a darkspawn horde at any one time during a Blight, often using their great strength to burst through fortifications and demolish the front lines of the opposing army.
They use brute force to charge their enemies like bulls, slam the ground with their fists to shake enemies off their feet, and hurl great rocks into the face of oncoming foes. Melee can be diffi*** against a giant that ***es a warrior up in one hand, crushing the life out of him or beating him into oblivion with the other hand. The nimble can try to wiggle his way free, or an ally can attempt an array of stunning blows on an ogre to free the comrade in danger.
Grey Warden lore urges caution when slaying an ogre. Unless it is ensured that they have received a major wound to the head or the heart, it is possible that they are lying dormant and will regenerate to full health within a matter of minutes. During a Blight, most Grey Wardens recommend burning all darkspawn to ashes... "dead" ogres in particular.
"Let me explain what it is to face a pride demon, my friends.
You may scoff and say that our talents exist only to face mages, but you will encounter demons often. They will be summoned by a maleficer and bound to do his bidding, and while at times they will be forced into the possession of a host, they will also face you in their true form... a powerful opponent indeed. Do not underestimate it.
Pride is powerful, and intelligent. When we have encountered one in its true form, its most common attacks are bolts of fire and ice. Fire they will use to burn an opponent, and the magical flame will combust anythingyou wear regardless of make. Ice they will use to freeze an opponent in place--be cautious, for they enjoy employing this against warriors in particular. More than one group of templars has made the mistake of attempting to overwhelm a pride demon and suffered the consequences, believe me. And if you think that having the aid of other mages will assist you, you are wrong. Pride demons can render themselves immune to magic for short times, and are adept at dispelling magic that is cast upon you... as much as we templars are able to disrupt spells.
Think on that for a moment, my friends. Be wary of how prideful you become, lest you find too much in common with such a fiend."
--Transcript of a lecture given by Vheren, templar-commander of Tantervale, 6:86 Steel
Encountered in the Fade, the true form of a rage demon is a frightening sight: a thing of pure fire, its body seemingly made of amorphous lava and its eyes two pinpricks of baleful light radiating from its core. The abilities of such a demon center on the fire it generates. It burns those who come near, and the most powerful of its kind are able to lash out with bolts of fire and even firestorms that can affect entire areas.
Fortunately, even powerful rage demons are less intelligent then most other varieties. Their tactics are simple: attack an enemy on sight with as much force as possible until it perishes. some rage demons carry over their heat-based abilities into possessed hosts, but otherwise the true form is mostly seen outside of the Fade when it's specifically summoned by a mage to do his bidding.
"What are you, mad? Even the most giant of rats isn't going to present that much of a problem to anyone larger than a cat. Even the stories in the archives that tell of Blight-touched rats still only attributed them with the ability to spread the plague. The rats themselves got no larger than perhaps three feet in length, covered in sharp bony spikes and boils. Disturbing, certainly, but dangerous? This is no fantasy conjured by madmen, young man! You have much more important creatures to concern yourself with!"
--Transcript of a lecture given by Nalia, Senior Enchanter of Hossberg, 8:44 Blessed (Note: she was later eaten by a Blight Rat in 8:46 Blessed)
"An entire unit of man, all slain by one creature. I didn't believe it at first, your Perfection, but it appears that this is so. We have a survivor, and while at first I thought his rantings pure exaggeration... it appears to be no simple skeleton. The descriptions of the creature's abilities were eerily similar to those our brothers at Marnas Pell encountered almost a century ago: men pulled through the air to skewer themselves on the creature's blade, and attacks so quick that it was able to assault multiple opponents at once. No, your Perfection, what we have here is indeed a revenant and nothing less."
--From a letter to Divine Amara III, 5:71 Exalted.
A revenant is a corpse possessed by a demon of pride or of desire... making it amongst the most powerful possessed opponents that one can face. Many possess spells, but most are armed and armored and prefer the use of their martial talents. They are weak against physical attacks but regenerate quickly, and commonly use telekinesis to pull opponents into melee range should they try to flee. Revenants also have the ability to strike multiple opponents surrounding them. Stay at range if possible and strike quickly--that is the only way to take such a creature down.
"It has often been suggested that the only way for a demon to affect the world of the living is by possessing a living (or once living) body, but this is not always true. Indeed, a shade is one such creature: a demon in its true form that has adapted to affect the world around it.
My hypothesis is this: We already know that many demons become confused when they pass through the Veil into our world. They are unable to tell the living from the dead, the very static nature of our universe being confusing to a creature that is accustomed to a physicality defined entirely by emotion and memory. Most demons seek to immediately seize upon anything they perceive as life, jealously attempting to possess it--but what of those that do not? What of those that encounter no life, or fail to possess a body? What of those that are more cautious by their nature?
These demons watch. They lurk. They envy.
In time, such a demon will learn to drain energy from the psyche of those it encounters, just as it did in the Fade. Once it has drained enough, it has the power to manifest and will forever after be known as a shade. Such a creature spurns possession. It instead floats as a shadow across its piece of land, preying upon the psyche of any who cross its path. Perhaps it believes itself still in the Fade? There is evidence to believe that is so.
A shade will weaken the living by its very proximity. If it focuses its will, it can drain a single target very quickly. Some have even been known to assault the minds of a living victim, causing confusion or horror and making the target ripe for the kill. The tragedy of a shade is perhaps that, once it has drained a target whole, its appetite is only heightened rather than slaked."
--From the journal of former Senior Enchanter Maleus, once of the Circle of Rivain, declared apostate in 9:20 Dragon Age.
Scholars call these tall, lean darkspawn the sharlock, though they are more popularly known as shrieks because of the ear-splitting cries they emit in battle. Many tales exist of soldiers being unnerved by the sounds of approaching shrieks, cloaked in darkness and never seen until the moment they strike.
As horroes of the night, shrieks are renowned for their incredible speed and agility as well as their stealth. They are the assassins of the darkspawn, penetrating the enemy lines and striking their targets using long, jagged blades attatched to their forearms to rip their opponent to shreds in seconds. They have been known to employ poison, often drawn from their own blood, and have demonstrated cunning group tactics when attacking in numbers.
The demons of the Fade are jealous of the living beings they sense from across the Veil. They constantly push against the boundaries of the Fade, and when finally cross over, they attempt to possess the first living creature they see. They are unable, however, to distinguish that which was once living from that which is... in fact, a corpse provides an even more tempting target to a weaker demon as it has no will with which to resist the possession. The demon cannot rationalize why this is so; it only sees a target and grasps at the opportunity.
A skeleton is exactly that: a corpse animated by a possessing demon. Upon finding itself trapped within a body that cannot sustain it, the demon is driven insane... it seeks to destroy any life that it encounters, attacking without thought to its own welfare.
The exact names given to skeletons of this type vary according to the nature of the demon that possesses it. A "fanged skeleton" is a skeleton possessed by a hunger demon. These skeletons devour whatever life they encounter and often possess the ability to drain life energy and mana from their victims. A "shambling skeleton" is a slower-moving skeleton possessed by a sloth demon, able to bring entropic powers against its opponents, slowing them and even putting them to sleep. More powerful demons have been known to command skeletons, but at that level they are known by other names: revenants and arcane horrors, to name two.
"And I looked at the creature and it had become me. A veritable copy of my form, of my very mind, stared back at me as if from within a mirror. I thought surely that this was a trick, an illusion meant to put me off guard... but as I engaged the thing with my sword it fought me with maneuvers that I recognized. It parried as I parried; it swung as I swung. It spoke to me and said things that only I could know. I... I think this demon of sloth has no form or identity of its own. It is envy as much as sloth, I believe, and mine was not the first shape it stole that day."
--An excerpt from a transcribed deposition of Tyrenus, templar-commander of Cumberland, 3:90 Towers.
The most diffi*** assumption for some who study demons to overcome is the notion that a sloth demon is, in and of itself, slothful. If that were so, it seems highly unlikely that any such demons would cross the Veil into our own world, or once here would fight to possess any creature with a will of its own--and we know both these things to not be the case. Certainly, some demons are lazy and complacent, but who knows? Perhaps these creatures even ***ivate such a reputation.
The truth is that demons of sloth are named so because this is the portion of the human psyche that they feed upon. Doubt. Apathy. Entropy. They seek to spread these things. The sloth demon hides in its forms, a master of shapes and disguises, always in the last place you look... and from its hiding place it spreads its influence. A community afflicted by a demon of sloth could soon become a dilapidated pit where injustices are allowed to pass without comment, and none of the residents could be aware that such a change has even taken place. The sloth demon weakens, tires, tears at the edges of consciousness and would much rather render its victim helpless than engage in a true conflict. Such creatures are best faced only with a great deal of will, and only with an eye to piercing their many disguises.
Giant spiders tend to appear in old ruins and other places where the Veil has become thin because of magical disturbances or a great number of deaths. In such places, spirits and demons pass into the world of the living and attempt to take control over living beings, spiders among them. Not all scholars accept this explanation for the presence of these beasts, however. Some claim that the thinning Veil allows magic to "leak" from the Fade, tainting such creatures as these spiders to transform into larger and more potent creatures then they ever would become naturally. While such spiders are known to possess powerful poisons and the ability to fling their webs at opponents in combat, studies of them have been few and the full range of their abilities are unknown.
For demons crossing over into our world, mankind is not always the preferred prey. Possessing humans means risking encounters with powerful mages and templars, as well as other complications. Some demons find it far easier to seek out animals or even plants, assuming that these will make as suitable a host as a human. Those that possess trees are known as wild sylvans.
Generally, only demons of rage, the weakest of the demon hierarchy, will become a sylvan. Once they do, they must spend a great deal of time twisting and molding the host in order to make it mobile, and once they have the sylvan is a powerful and deadly opponent. Other, more intelligent, spirits have also been known to become sylvans, and are generally much less violent, but these are rare.
Slow but immensely powerful, wild sylvans prefer to lay in ambush, waiting for a victim to become lost, tired, or trapped before closing in for the kill. They hide among regular trees, nearly undetectable until they begin to move and to reach. When they do "come to life" as some travelers say, they stand tall, roots forming into legs and feet and branches stretching out into lashing arms.
When not presented with a living target, however, it has been noted that sylvans often fall into a form of dormancy, perhaps brought on by the nature of their tree host. While mobile, they normally return to wherever they were rooted once their prey has been killed. For both these reasons, a forest that has sylvans within can become incredibly dangerous to pass through for very long periods of time.
"And Dane he stood his ground, The fanged beast approached. He saw the rage within its eyes, The wolf that once was there. The sword he raised, Merciful death be praised, To the maker went his prayer."
--From the popular telling of Dane and the Werewolf, a legend of Ferelden circa 4:50 Black.
Fereldan lore is full of instances where these creatures have plagued the countryside: wolves possessed by rage demons and transformed into humanoid monsters with incredible speed and strength, able to spread a curse to those they bit that would drive them mad with unthinking fury. When in this enraged state, a human host can likewise become possessed and be transformed into a feral, wolf-like beast. Tales differ on these werewolves of human origin, some claiming that their transformation into a bestial form happens uncontrollably. Some claim the transformation is irreversible. As is often the case with demonic tales, both versions were most likely true at some point.
The ability of normal dogs to detect a werewolf even when it is in a human guise is what first led Fereldans to adopt dogs as indispensable companions in every farmhold. The alliance between humans and regular wolves is the subject of the popular Fereldan folk tale "Dane and the Werewolf."
The actual hero Dane led a crusade to eliminate the werewolf threat during the early Black Age, and while werewolves have never assumed the same prominence since, there have still been reports of individual packs lurking in remote forests. In recent years, some have even been reported to have developed an uncanny willpower and intelligence... though why this is so is still unknown.
"A great deal is made of the most powerful demons, those that create abominations and those that have changed the history of Thedas. It is often forgotten that not all demons are such awe-inspiring beings. some that break through the cracks in the Veil into our world are known as wisps, a silver of a thought what once was. A wisp is a demon that has lost its power; either it has existed in our world for too long without finding a true host or it has been destroyed--often, so we've found, by other demons. What remains of its mind clings tightly to the one concept that created it--a hatred of all things living.
While its ability to target a living creature is limited, these wisps often mindlessly attack when encountered in the Fade. In the living world, they often have been known to maliciously lure the living into dangerous areas, being mistaken for lanterns or other civilized light sources. This does, however, seem to be the very limit of their cunning."
--From the journal of former Senior Enchanter Maleus, once of the Circle of Rivain, declared apostate in 9:20 Dragon Age.
"It is rather unfair, the reputation that the wolf possesses in Ferelden. For a people that so clearly adore their hounds, Fereldans simultaneously harbor a distrust of wolves that borders on the unreasonable. Unreasonable, that is if one were not familiar with the ancient legends regarding werewolves. There was a time in Ferelden's past when demons inhabited the bodies of wolves in great numbers, causing the wars against werewolves and spreading great fear and panic. The werewolves were slain, but even today the noble wolf is still looked upon with distrust."
--From Legends of Ferelden, by Mother Ailis of Denerim, 9:10 Dragon.
An attack by wolves upon civilized folk happens rarely, often only in times of desperation and even then only when the wolves have the advantage of numbers. This can change during a Blight. When darkspawn rise onto the surface their presence dramatically alters the savage nature of normal beasts.
In Blights past, as the corruption of the darkspawn spread through the wilder areas of Thedas, it would infect the animals found there... and the more powerful of them would survive and be transformed into a more vicious and dangerous beast. A blight wolf is one such example, mad with the pain of its infection, and only through the overriding command of the darkspawn does it still retain some semblance of its pack instincts . Blight wolves are always found in large groups and will tend to overwhelm a single target if they can, using their numbers to their advantage. It is fortunate that these creatures rarely survive their corruption for very long.
Mabari hounds are descended from pack hunters, and like their ancestors, they are highly influenced by a defined order of dominance. The primary method of determining that order is by claiming territory through scent-marking major landmarks. Once established, the dominant mabari gains a substantial increase in confidence and stature within his territory, a trait that indirectly benefits master as well as hound.
Adralla of Vyrantium dedicated her life to the study of blood magic--the academic study, rather than the practice. A deeply pious mage, she was renowned in her day for having found a counter to every form of mind control, a defense against dream walkers, and even counter-spells to demonic summons.
Her efforts went unappreciated in her native Tevinter, however. After three different magisters attempted to have her killed, she fled the country, choosing to take refuge in the land of Blessed Andrate's birth. She spent the remainder of her days with the Circle in Ferelden.
The Litany of Adralla disrupts the casting of mind control spells. Use the Litany whenever a creature tries to dominate another with magic, and it will interrupt the casting. Once the spell is in effect and a character is under a blood mage's power, it is too late.
Archon Darinius of Tevinter journeyed deep into the lightless realm of dwarves and there forged a covenant with Endrin Stonehammer, lord of the dwarven empire. As a symbol of their pact, Endrin gave the archon a pair of rings--one that shone like the evening star, and one as luminous as the dawn. So long as the rings were united, Darinius need fear nothing, for the friendship of the dwarves is a mighty sword and shield.
The archon wore the rings of Dawn and Dusk for 20 years, never removing them, and when he died, they were cut from his fingers by magisters squabbling over his vacant thorne, then seperated, and finally lost.
--From a book formerly in the possession of a hermit.
Havard was Maferath's closest friend. They were children together in the same Avvar Clan. They fought side-by-side in so many battles that Maferath dubbed him, "Havvard the Aegis," better to have at his side than any shield.
Maferath brought Havvard with him to meet with the Tevinters; it was unthinkable to stand before his enemies without his Aegis.
When he understood that Maferath was giving Andraste over to be executed, Havvard, unwilling to draw swords against his friend and liege, placed himself between Andraste and the Tiventer soldiers. The Tiventers struck him down, and Maferath left him for dead.
But Aegis was not so easily destroyed. Havvard lived and Made his way, gravely wounded, to the gates of Minrathous to stop the execution. Too late. He found only the ashes of the prophet, left to the wind and rain. When his fingers touched the ash, his ears filled with song, and he saw a vision of Andraste dressed in cloth of starlight. She knelt at his side, saying, "Rise, Ageis of the Faith, the Maker shall never forget you so long as I remember."
His wounds healed instantly. And with new strength, Havvard gathered up Andraste's remains and carried them safely back to the lands of the Alamarri.
Before the fall of Arlathan, even before Arlathan itself, the civilization of the elves stretched across all of Thedas like a great, indolent cat.
This armor was made for temple guards in a time when the Creators still spoke to the elves. The techniques of its forging, even the name of the metal it is forged from, have long since faded from memory.
Long ago, as soldier from Gwaren was returning home after twenty years at war. He had sold his sword for passage to Denerim and had to make his way through the Brecilian Forest with nothing to his name but a single crust of bread.
On his way, he met an old blind woodcutter sitting on a tree stump. "Here is someone worse off than myself," said the soldier, and he gave the old man his last scrap of bread. The old man blessed him, and gave the soldier his axe in return.
The soldier went on his way, and soon night fell. He made his bed in a tree branch and held the woodcutter's axe at his side to ward against beasts and bandits. When the moon was high, he was awakened by the sound of weeping. "Show yourself!" he shouted, for try as he might, the soldier could find no one nearby.
"Help me," spoke the tree in which he'd been sleeping, "A mage transformed me into this shape, and I will never be set free. If you had any pity in you, you would cut me down so that my spirit could go to the Maker."
So the soldier took up his axe and struck the tree. The cuts bled like wounds, and soon hot blood covered the axe and burned the soldier's hands. But he held tightly to the axe and felled the tree. The tree shattered when it hit the ground, and from the splinters rose a demon, who bowed to the soldier and vanished into the Fade.
The soldier was chilled to the bone, and could not sleep. In the morning, he found that the axe still burned like the blood of the sylvan, but despite its heat, he could not get warm again. They say he ended his days in Gwaren, cutting wood for his seven fireplaces, shivering and cursing the spirits.
The rules of the Grand Game are clear: Anything goes. If a noble cannot obtain the heights of prestige in the court by purchase, alliance, or deed, he can always obtain it by removing his rivals.
In this, bards have always been invaluable. Orlesians cannot do without music and dancing. Even when they know that half the musicians in their ballroom are spies in the employ of their enemies, they welcome the scoundrels with open arms. In fact, that makes music and musicians so much more popular, for it makes the Game more exciting.
There are clear signs that this ring was made in the Tevinter Imperium--it's covered in dragon motifs, for one thing. And it gives anyone who wears it a slightly uneasy feeling, for another. But beyond that, very little is known about it.
Warriors of House Ivo took this ring in the Blessed Age from the hand of a madman, a surfacer mage who had wandered into the underground and attacked lyrium miners near Orzammar. From there, the ring changed hands many times, until its history had been lost and the dwarves no longer remembered how it had ever come into their lands.
There is no more famous ruler in history than Kordilius Drakon, first emperor of Orlais. Few, however, know the story of his empress.
Empress Area was the third of Lord Montlaures of val Chevin's famously unmarriageable six daughters. When she met young Prince Kordilius, she was the captain of her father's archers and led the defense of Laures Castle. She was not the fairest of ladies, nor the most elegant or charming, but Area could shoot the wings off a bumblebee at one hundred paces. By all accounts, when the prince witnessed that particular feat, Drakon--who was not noted for his charm or elegance, and rather better known for his sword and shield--was instantly smitten.
On their wedding day, Drakon presented his bride with a golden bow crafted by the mages of Val Royeaux, so that they could ride into battle and spread the Light of the Maker side by side.
The Waking Sea Bannorn has been famous since time immemorial for its archers. Children there are given bows before they can walk, and parents have been known, on occasion, to disown their offspring for failure to hit bulls-eyes.
When Calenhad came to demand the Waking Sea's fealty, Bann Camenae greeted her would-be king by shooting his horse out from under him half a league from Castle Eremon. Calenhad reached the gates on foot and found them barred, with dozens of archers watching him from the castle walls.
He waited outside the walls with his men until sunset, when Camenae opened the gates and met him, armored to the teeth with her bow in hand. "You have proven you have sense and humility, Theirin. And no man can hope to lead the Bannorn without those gifts." She then knelt and swore her oath.
To this day, the Eremon family of the Waking Sea presents every newly crowned king or queen of Ferelden with two gifts: an arrow and a horse.
At Shartan's word, the sky
Grew black with arrows.
At Our Lady's, ten thousand swords
Rang from their scabbards,
A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly proclaiming:
Those who had been slaves were now free.
--Shartan 10:1.
They say that Shartan's followers stole whatever they could find to make weapons. They fought with knives of sharpened stone and glass, and with bows made from broken barrels or firewood. This bow was ox horn, made in secret over the course of months by a slave who worked in the slaughterhouses of Minrathous.
The slave's name has been lost to history, and the verses that spoke of his deeds, stricken from the chant, but the weapon endures.
The Theirin family refused to die.
This was a problem for the Empire, for the stubborn Fereldans would not accept Orlesian rule so long as some vagabond in the woods could call himself their king.
So the Orlesian court sent their agents in Ferelden a gift: A bard by the name of Katriel, to assassinate the surviving Prince Maric.
She did not, of course, succeed, but that's another story.
No one knows for certain where this amulet came from. All we have is a legend:
Long before the Golden City turned black, there lived in the Tevinter Imperium a frail old magician in the court of the archon. He was the least among the mages of the court, the lamp-lighter, whose task it was to set all the thousands of candles alight and snuff them again when the archon retired for the evening. He was counted as useless by all the most influential magisters.
But he was only biding his time.
One day, when all the magisters of the Imperium were assembled in the great hall of the archon, the lamp-lighter struck. He conjured a massive fire storm in the hall, trying to assassinate all who were assembled and seize power himself. The court was made up of the most powerful mages of the Imperium, and they worked quickly to destroy the would-be usurper, but found, to their astonishment, their magic was no match for the old mage. Every spell they cast was countered, and the magisters began to fall, one by one, until only the archon himself and the lamp-lighter were left, locked in a battle of magic and will.
The archon saw that with each spell he cast, the lamp-lighter seemed to wither and fade a little more. So he bombarded the mage with spell after spell, until at last nothing was left of the palace but rubble, nothing left of the court but corpses, and nothing left of the lamp-lighter but a golden pendant--this, the archon kept to remind himself that treachery could come from even the most innocuous sources.
On the very day that the final stone was set into place in the Grand Cathedral of Orlais, Archon Vespasian was assassinated. For three days, every magister lord of the Imperium lived behind a wall of armored guards. When his successor, Hadarius, was finally named archon, the first enchanter of the Circle of Minrathous presented him with a gift: a silvery unadorned chain made from pure lyrium. Enchantments had been worked into the links of the chain so that donning this necklace was like holding up a shield: Blows struck at the wearer glanced harmlessly away. Unfortunately, Hadarius found that the shield did not protect him against poison nearly so well.
The Crows of Antiva may be the most famous and most expensive of Thedas's assassins, but they are not the most active. That dubious honor belongs to the Shadows of the Emperor, the personal cadre of killers employed by the throne of Orlais.
Almost exclusively, the Shadows work against other noble families in Val Royeaux. No one knows who they are, not even the sitting emporer, and some in the court dismiss them as only a myth. The assassins have slipped into aristocratic life working as palace servants, ladies-in-waiting, and, on one notorious occasion, the chamberlain himself.
This armor was made for use by the Shadows whenever the Grand Game should wander out of hand.
In 8:84 Blessed, Lord Aurelien of Montsimmard, champion of the Grand Tourney of Ansburg, commissioned a sword for his youngest son Luis, who aspired to the Chevaliers. Insisting that his boy have nothing but the best, Lord Aurelien sought out the most renowned master smith in the Orlesian Empire Vercenne of Halamshiral, who was at that time nearly eighty, and begged the old man to make the blade. Vercenne refused. His sight was failing him and he had no wish to come out of retirement. But Aurelien offered and exorbitant sum of gold, and eventually overcame the artisan's resistance.
The old master labored for several months, folding steel, honing the edge to perfection. The resulting blade was as long as a man is tall, and sharp as the tongue of any noblewoman. Vercenne proclaimed it, in a fit of irony, the "Summer Sword," since he had crafted it in the winter of his lifetime.
Lord Aurelien brought Luis with him to receive the sword from the hand of the old master. When the boy saw the Summer Sword, he turned up his nose at his father's gift: such great two-handed swords were no longer in fashion at court. He preferred an estoc. Aurelien was mortified; he insisted that Luis carry the blade and apologized to Vercenne, but to no avail. The sword smith cursed the boy, saying that for his pride, regardless of blade he carried, he would fail anyway.
Luis was eventually knighted, and joined the ranks of the Chevaliers. In 8:98 Blessed he was appointed command of the Chevaliers in Denerim, and hoped to make a name for himself. And so he did: he was the most detested chevalier in Ferelden, well-known for his acts of depravity. In 9:1 Dragon, he met Loghain Mac Tir in battle at Avinash. Luis lost his estoc early in the fighting, became separated from his men, and ended up facing down Loghain himself armed only with the Summer Sword--which he had never before drawn. Practice might have saved him where pride did not. Loghain made short work of the pompous chevalier and took the greatsword as a trophy.
Aurelien领主带着Luis去见铁匠，想让他的儿子亲手从年迈的大师手里接过宝剑。当这个男孩看到夏之剑的时候，他却回绝了他父亲的礼物：这样巨大的双手剑当时在贵族宫廷中已经不流行。他更喜欢一把异国风格的剑。Aurelien很无奈：于是他强迫着Luis拿走了宝剑，并向大师道了歉，但是这一切都已没有用了。铸剑师诅咒了这个男孩：因为他的傲慢，无论他佩戴的是什么宝剑，最后都终将以失败告终。在8：98祝福纪元的时候，这位男孩被任命为Denerim的侠义骑士指挥官，并希望树立自己的名声。而他确实成功了：他成为了Ferelden最臭名昭著的侠义其实，他的堕落和腐化广为人知。在9：1龙之纪元的时候，他在Avinash的战斗中遇到了Loghain Mac Tir。Luis在战斗中丢失了他的异国剑，并和他的士兵们失散了，最终他被迫地不得不去面对Loghain本人，并且身上只佩戴着这把他从未使用过的夏之剑。他的傲慢并没有像刻苦修炼那样能挽救他。Loghain很快地解决了这位浮夸的侠义骑士，并将这把大剑收为战利品。
Codex Entry 49: Thorn of the Dead Gods
In the moment that it struck, the blade of the Grey Warden who killed Toth, Archdemon of Fire, shattered into three pieces. After the Battle of Hunter Fell, the Wardens carried their fallen brother to Weisshaupt for a hero's burial, but the broken pieces of his sword were left behind.
For years, the shards lay forgotten on the battlefield. Steel became etched with the corrupted blood of the dead god. They were eventually dicovered by a Nevarran woman, searching among the bones for a sign of her lost son. She sold them to a blacksmith, not knowing what they truly were, for ten bits.
The smith, however, knew that he had purchased more than scrap metal, and fashioned the shards into three identical daggers: the Thorns of the Dead Gods. They left his hands and were scattered to the far corners of Thedas. But everywhere they went, the Thorns left misery and loss in their wake. The woman who unearthed them died soon after of plague. The smith fell into his forge. Each person who has held one of the Thorns, even briefly, has died an untimely death.
Ser Thorval of Rainesfere was the sixth son of a sixth son, a child of ill-fortune. It showed on his 13th birthday, when he narrowly avoided being run over by a cart, only to have a tree fall on him. It showed on his wedding day, when his bride ran off with a roving dwarven tinker.
But nowhere was Thorval's misfortune more obvious than on the battlefield. Although peerless among the knights of Rainesfere and undefeated in the tourneys of Redcliffe and West Hills, Ser Thorval was plagued by loss, for every blade he took into battle broke. Every shield cracked. He won himself honor and acclaim... and a tremendous blacksmithing bill as he sought out stronger blades and sturdier shields to replace his losses.
One day as he rode to a tournament in Denerim, Thorval's horse threw a shoe, pitching the knight head-first into a hollow tree stump. When he came to, he found his nose inches from the heavy steel head of an enormous war hammer. Since his sword, naturally, had shattered in the fall, Thorval took the hammer as a replacement.
It was highly unorthodox for a knight to use a hammer in a tournament, but Thorval won his matches easily. And the hammer even survived. From that day forth, he used no other weapon. When he died many years later, he left the hammer to his sixth son, Anselm, who promptly lost it.
"In the company of monsters he went,
Down the empty wolf-roads after the dragon
To the lands where the ice is like steel,
And the air grows thin as a beggar,
And every rocky path is strewn with the bones
Of the lonely dead. There Dane dwelled,
And fifty swords were worn to rusted ruin
Before at last they found the cave of Fenshal,
Ancient keeper of the mountains, bane of wolves.
Dane sought a way in which the dragon might be felled,
Fiend of fire and talon, its scales
Brighter than any warrior's mail, teeth greater than men,
And all around the slumbering wyrm were bones:
Wolves, men, beasts beyond counting.
The fume of death frightened even the wolf pack,
And Dane, desperate, crept into the cavern
To seek the monster's death alone.
There, shining among the dead like a star
His hand found a sword. Yusaris:
Forged by the dwarf smiths for an Alamarri lord long ago,
Waiting age after age to be taken to battle once more.
And this Dane freed from the earth and struck
At the eye of the dragon, still sleeping,
With a swift, terrible blow.
And Fenshal woke, wroth, only to die.”
—From Dane and the Werewolf.
The legend of the blade Yusaris predates Andraste. The sword that Dane found in the dragon's treasure hoard, which he used to slay both Fenshal and the werewolf, was passed on to his son Hafter.
Dane may have been fiction, but Hafter was fact. In 1:40 Divine, he led the Alamarri tribes against darkspawn that flooded into the Ferelden valley from the dwarven lands. He not only drove back the horde, he also then defeated the combined forces of the Avvars and Chasind who hoped in take advantage of the chaos. His victories earned him such respect from the tribes, he was named the first teryn.
After years of ruling the valley in peace, it is said that Hafter left Ferelden, sailing into the unknown east of the Amaranthine Ocean with the blade still in hand, never to be seen again.
Hear me, sons and daughters of the People--
I am Sister of the Moon, Mother of Hares,
Lady of the Hunt: Andruil.
Remember my teachings,
Remember the Vir Tanadhal:
The Way of Three Trees
That I have given you.
Vir Assan: the Way of the Arrow
Be swift and silent;
Strike true, do not waver
And let not your prey suffer.
That is my Way.
Vir Bor'assan: the Way of the Bow
As the sapling bends, so must you.
In yielding, find resilience;
In pliancy, find strength.
That is my Way.
Vir Adahlen: the Way of the Wood
Receive the gifts of the hunt with mindfulness.
Respect the sacrifice of my children
Know that your passing shall nourish them in turn.
That is my Way.
Remember the Ways of the Hunter
And I shall be with you.
Vir Assan：箭矢之道
轻捷而迅速
百发百中，不要动摇
且勿令你的猎物承受痛苦与折磨
这就是我的道
Vir Bor’assan:弓箭之道
你必须像幼苗那样弯曲
顺从它的柔软与弹性
在柔弱中寻找到力量
这就是我的道
Vir Adahlen：树木之道
带着正念接受狩猎之礼物
尊重我的孩子们之牺牲
要知道你死去后将会转为滋养它们的食粮
这就是我的道
Codex Entry 53: Dirthamen: Keeper of Secrets
The twins Falon'Din and Dithamen are the eldest children of Elgar'nan the All-Father and Mythal the Protector. The brothers were inseparable from the moment of their conception, known for their great love for each other. That is why we often speak of Falon'Din in one breath and Dirthamen the next, for they cannot bear to be apart, not even in our tales.
When the world was young, the gods often walked the earth, and Falon'Din and Dirthamen were no exception. Both were delighted by the many wonders of our earth. They played with the animals, whispered to the trees, and bathed in the lakes and streams. Their days were filled with bliss, and they did not know sorrow.
And then one day, while passing through the forest, Falon'Din and Dirthamen came across an old and sickly deer resting beneath a tree. "Why do you sit so still, little sister?" asked Falon'Din.
"Play with us," said Dirthamen.
"Alas," spoke the deer, "I cannot. I am old, and although I wish to go to my rest, my legs can no longer carry me."
Taking pity on the deer, Falon'Din gathered her up into his arms and carried her to her rest beyond the Veil. Dirthamen tried to follow them, but the shifting grey paths beyond the Veil would not let him. Separated for the first time from Falon'Din, Dirthamen wandered aimlessly till he came across two ravens.
"You are lost, and soon you will fade," the raven named Fear said to Dirthamen.
"Your brother has abandoned you. He no longer loves you," said the other, named Deceit
"I am not lost, and Falon'Din has not abandoned me," replied Dirthamen. HE subdued the ravens and bade them carry him to Falon'Din. This they did, for they had been defeated and were now bound to Dirthamen's service.
When Dirthamen found Falon'Din, he found also the deer, who once again was light on her feet, for her spirit was released from her weakened body. Both Falon'Din and Dirthamen rejoiced to see this. Falon'Din vowed that he would remain to carry all the dead to their place Beyond, just as he did the deer. And Dirthamen stayed with him, for the twins cannot bear to be apart.
--From The Story of Falon'Din and Dirthamen, as told by Gisharel, keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves.
Long ago, when time itself was young, the only things in existence were the sun and the land. The sun, curious about the land, bowed his head close to her body, and Elgar'nan was born in the place where they touched. The sun and the land loved Elgar'nan greatly, for he was beautiful and clever. As a gift to Elgar'nan, the land brought forth great birds and beasts of sky and forest, and all manner of wonderful green things. Elgar'nan loved his mother's gifts and praised them highly and walked amongst them often.
The sun, looking down upon the fruitful land, saw the joy that Elgar'nan took in her works and grew jealous. Out of spite, he shone his face full upon all the creatures the earth had created, and burned them all to ashes. The land cracked and split from bitterness and pain, and cried salt tears for the loss of all she had wrought. The pool of tears cried for the land became the ocean, and the cracks in her body the first rivers and streams.
Elgar'nan was furious at what his father had done and vowed vengeance. He lifted himself into the sky and wrestled the sun, determined to defeat him. They fought for an eternity, and eventually the sun grew weak, while Elgar'nan's rage was unabated. Eventually Elgar'nan threw the sun down from the sky and buried him in a deep abyss created by the land's sorrow. With the sun gone, the world was covered in shadow, and all that remained in the sky were the reminders of Elgar'nan's battle with his father--drops of the sun's lifeblood, which twinkled and shimmered in the darkness.
--From The Tale of Elgar'nan and the Sun, as told by Gisharel, keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves.
Codex Entry 55: Falon'Din: Friend of the Dead, the Guide
"O Falon'Din
Lethanavir--Friend to the Dead
Guide my feet, calm my soul,
lead me to my rest."
In ancient times, the People were ageless and eternal, and instead of dying would enter uthenera-the long sleep--and walk the shifting paths beyond the Veil with Falon'Din and his brother Dirthamen. Those elders would learn the secrets of dreams, and some returned to the People with newfound knowledge.
But we quickened and became mortal. Those of the People who passed walked with Falon'Din into the Beyond and never returned. If they took counsel with Dirthamen on their passage, his wisdom was lost, for it went with them into the Beyond also, and never came to the People.
Then Fen'Harel caused the gods to be shut away from us, and those who passed no longer had Falon'Din to guide them. And so we learned to lay our loved ones to rest with an oaken staff, to keep them from faltering along the paths, and a cedar branch, to scatter the ravens named Fear and Deceit who were once servants of Dirthamen, now without a master.
--As told by Gisharel, keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves.
There is precious little we know about Fen'Harel, for they say he did not care for our people. Elgar'nan and Mythal created the world as we know it, Andruil taught us the Ways of the Hunter, Sylaise and June gave us fire and crafting, but Fen'Harel kept to himself and plotted the betrayal of all the gods. And after the destruction of Arlathan, when the gods could no longer hear our prayers, it is said the Fen'Harel spent centuries in a far corner of the earth, giggling madly and hugging himself in glee.
The legend says that before the fall of Arlatha, the gods we know and revere fought an endless war with others of their kind. There is not a hahren among us who remembers these others: Only in dreams do we hear whispered the names of Geldauran and Daern'thal and Anaris, for they are the Forgotten Ones, the gods of terror and malice, spite and pestilence. In ancient times, only Fen'Harel could walk without fear among both our gods and the Forgotten Ones, for although he is kin to the gods of the People, the Forgotten Ones knew of his cunning ways and saw him as one of their own.
And that is how Fen'Harel tricked them. Our gods saw him as a brother, and they trusted him when he said that they must keep to the heavens while he arranged a truce. And the Forgotten Ones trusted him also when he said he would arrange for the defeat of our gods, if only the Forgotten Ones would return to the abyss for a time. They trusted Fen'Harel, and they were all of them betrayed. And FenHarel sealed them away so they could never again walk among the People.
--From "the Tale of Fen'Harel's Triump," as told by Gisharel, keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves.
Codex Entry 57: Ghilan'nain: Mother of the Halla
They say Ghilan'nain was one of the People, in the days before Arlathan, and the chosen of Andruil the Huntress. She was very beautiful--with hair of snowy white--and as graceful as a gazelle. She kept always to Andruil's Ways, and Andruil favored her above all others.
One day, while hunting in the forest, Ghilan'nain came across a hunter she did not know. At his feet lay a hawk, shot through the heart by an arrow. Ghilan'nain was filled with rage, for the hawk--along with the hare--is an animal much beloved of Andruil. Ghilan'nain demanded that the hunter make an offering to Andruil, in exchange for taking the life of one of her creatures. The hunter refused, and Ghilan'nain called upon the goddess to curse him, so that he could never again hunt and kill a living creature.
Ghilan'nain's curse took hold, and the hunter found that he was unable to hunt. His prey would dart out of sight and his arrows would fly astray. His friends and family began to mock him for his impotence, for what use is a hunter who cannot hunt? Ashamed, the hunter swore he would find Ghilan'nain and repay her for what she had done to him.
He found Ghilan'nain while she was out on a hunt with her sisters, and lured her away from them with lies and false words. He told Ghilan'nain that he had learned his lesson and begged her to come with him, so she could teach him to make a proper offering to Andruil. Moved by his plea, Ghilan'nain followed the hunter, and when they were away from all of her sisters, the hunter turned on Ghilan'nain. He blinded her first, and then bound her as one would bind a kill fresh from the hunt. But because he was cursed, the hunter could not kill her. Instead he left her for dead in the forest.
And Ghilan'nain prayed to the gods for help. She prayed to Elgar'nan for vengeance, to Mother Mythal to protect her, but above all she prayed to Andruil. Andruil sent her hares to Ghilan'nain and they chewed through the ropes that bound her, but Ghilan'nain was still wounded and blind, and could not find her way home. So Andruil turned her into a beautiful white deer--the first halla. And Ghilan'nain found her way back to her sisters, and led them to the hunter, who was brought to justice.
And since that day, the halla have guided the People, and have never led us astray, for they listen to the voice of Ghilan'nain.
--From "The Tale of Ghilan'nain," as told by Gisharel, keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves.
And Ghilan'nain prayed to the gods for help. She prayed to Elgar'nan for vengeance, to Mother Mythal to protect her, but above all she prayed to Andruil. Andruil sent her hares to Ghilan'nain and they chewed through the ropes that bound her, but Ghilan'nain was still wounded and blind, and could not find her way home. So Andruil turned her into a beautiful white deer--the first halla. And Ghilan'nain found her way back to her sisters, and led them to the hunter, who was brought to justice.
And since that day, the halla have guided the People, and have never led us astray, for they listen to the voice of Ghilan'nain.
--From "The Tale of Ghilan'nain," as told by Gisharel, keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves.
We dedicate all our crafts to June, for it is he who taught the People to bend the branches of trees to make our bows, and to fashion coverings of furs and ironbark. Without June, would we have the aravel, or the harnesses for our halla?
When the People were young, we wandered the forests without purpose. We drank from streams and ate the berries and nuts that we could find. We did not hunt, for we had no bows. We wore nothing, for we had no knowledge of spinning or needlecraft. We shivered in the cold nights, and went hungry though the winters, when all the world was covered in ice and snow.
Then Sylaise the Hearthkeeper came, and gave us fire and taught us how to feed it with wood. June taught us to fashion bows and arrows and knives, so that we could hunt. We learned to cook the flesh of the creatures we hunted over Sylaise's fire, and we learned to clothe ourselves in their furs and skins. And the People were no longer cold and hungry.
--As told by Gisharel, keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves.
Elgar'nan had defeated his father, the sun, and all was covered in darkness. Pleased with himself, Elgar'nan sought to console his mother, the earth, by replacing all that the sun had destroyed. But the earth knew that without the sun, nothing could grow. She whispered to Elgar'nan this truth, and pleaded with him to release his father, but Elgar'nan's pride was great, and his vengeance was terrible, and he refused.
It was at this moment that Mythal walked out of the sea of the earth's tears and onto the land. She placed her hand on Elgar'nan's brow, and at her touch he grew calm and knew that his anger had led him astray. Humbled, Elgar'nan went to the place where the sun was buried and spoke to him. Elgar'nan said he would release the sun if the sun promised to be gentle and to return to the earth each night. The sun, feeling remorse at what he had done, agreed.
And so the sun rose again in the sky, and shone his golden light upon the earth. Elgar'nan and Mythal, with the help of the earth and the sun, brought back to life all the wondrous things that the sun had destroyed, and they grew and thrived. And that night, when the sun had gone to sleep, Mythal gathered the glowing earth around his bed, and formed it into a sphere to be placed in the sky, a pale reflection of the sun's true glory.
--From "The Tale of Mythal's Touch," as told by Gisharel, keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves
Sylaise the Hearthkeeper is seen as the sister of Andruil the Huntress. While Andruil loved to run with the creatures of the wild, Sylaise preferred to stay by her home-tree, occupying herself with gentle arts and song.
It is Sylaise who gave us fire and taught us how to use it. It is Sylaise who showed us how to heal with herbs and with magic, and how to ease the passage of infants into this world. And again, it is Sylaise who showed us how to spin the fibers of plants into thread and rope.
We owe much to Sylaise, and that is why we sing to her when we kindle the fires and when we put them out. That is why we sprinkle our aravels with Sylaise's fragrant tree-moss, and ask that she protect them and all within.
--As told by Gisharel, keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves
When the Imperium occupied the area that is present-day Ferelden, they had two sites dedicated to magical experimentation at the extreme ends of the Imperial Highway. The southern one was the fortress of Ostagar, which looked out over the Korcari Wilds. The northern one was Aeonar, although the exact location is now a secret known only to a handful of Templars.
Whatever it was the Tevinter were trying to discover at Aeonar, their work was never completed. The fortress was overrun by disciples of Andraste upon hearing the news of her death. According to legend, it was a massacre--eerily silent, for the invaders caught the mages while all but one of them were in the Fade.
The site was left structurally sound but spiritually damaged. Possibly because of this, the Chantry chose to put it to use as a prison. Accused maleficarum and apostates are held in the confines of Aeonar. Those who have a powerful connection to the Fade, and particularly to demons, will inevitably attract something across the Veil, making the guilty somewhat easier to tell from the innocent.
--From Of Fires, Circles, and Templars: A History of Magic in the Chantry, by Sister Petrine, Chantry scholar.
Codex Entry 62: An account of the life of the Prophet Andraste
There was once a tiny fishing village on the Waking Sea that was set upon by the Tevinter Imperium, which enslaved the villagers to be sold in the markets of Minrathous,leaving behind only the old and the infirm. One of the captives was the child Andraste.
She was raised in slavery in a foreign land. She escaped, then made the long and treacherous journey back to her homeland alone. She rose from nothing to be the wife of an Alamarri warlord.
Each day she sang to the gods, asking them to help her people who remained slaves in Tevinter. The false gods of the mountains and the winds did not answer her, but the true god did.
The Maker spoke. He showed her all the works of His hands: the Fade, the world, and all the creatures therein. He showed her how men had forgotten Him, lavishing devotion upon mute idols and demons, and how He had left them to their fate. But her voice had reached Him, and so captivated Him that He offered her a place at His side, that she might rule all of creation.
But Andraste would not forsake her people.
She begged the Maker to return, to save His children from the cruelty of the Imperium. Reluctantly, the Maker agreed to give man another chance.
Andraste went back to her husband, Maferath, and told him all that the Maker had revealed to her. Together, they rallied the Alamarri and marched forth against the mage-lords of the Imperium, and the Maker was with them.
The Maker's sword was creation itself: fire and flood, famine and earthquake. Everywhere they went, Andraste sang to the people of the Maker, and they heard her. The ranks of Andraste's followers grew until they were a vast tide washing over the Imperium. And when Maferath saw that the people loved Andraste and not him, a worm grew within his heart, gnawing upon it.
At last, the armies of Andraste and Maferath stood before the very gates of Minrathous, but Andraste was not with them.
For Maferath had schemed in secret to hand Andraste over to the Tevinter. For this, the archon would give Maferath all the lands to the south of the Waking Sea.
And so, before all the armies of the Alamarri and of Tevinter, Andraste was tied to a stake and burned while her earthly husband turned his armies aside and did nothing, for his heart had been devoured. But as he watched the pyre, the archon softened. He took pity on Andraste, and drew his sword, and granted her the mercy of a quick death.
The Maker wept for His Beloved, cursed Maferath, cursed mankind for their betrayal, and turned once again from creation, taking only Andraste with him. And Our Lady sits still at his side, where she still urges Him to take pity on His children.
--From The Sermons of Justinia II
Codex Entry 63: The history of the Rite of Annulment
In the 83rd year of the Glory Age, one of the mages of the Nevarran Circle was found practicing forbidden magic. The templars executed him swiftly, but this brewed discontent among the Nevarra Circle. The mages made several magical attacks against the templars, vengeance for the executed mage, but the knight-commander was unable to track down which were responsible.
Three months later, the mages summoned a demon and turned it loose against their templar watchers. Demons, however, are not easily controlled. After killing the first wave of templars who tried to contain it, the demon took possession of one of its summoners. The resulting abomination slaughtered Templars and mages both before escaping into the countryside.
The grand cleric sent a legion of templars to hunt the fugitive. They killed the abomination a year later, but by that time it had slain 70 people.
Divine Galatea, responding to the catastrophe in Nevarra and hoping to prevent further incidents, granted all the Grand Clerics of the Chantry the power to purge a Circle entirely if they rule it irredeemable. This Rite of Annulment has been performed 17 times in the last 700 years.
--From Of Fires, Circles, and Templars: A History of Magic in the Chantry, by Sister Petrine, Chantry scholar.
It is not uncommon for the neophyte to mistake apostates and maleficarum as one and the same. Indeed, the Chantry has gone to great lengths over the centuries to establish that this is so. The truth, however, is that while an apostate is often a maleficar, he need not be so. A maleficar is a mage who employs forbidden knowledge such as blood magic and the summoning of demons, whereas an apostate is merely any mage who does not fall under the auspices of the Circle of Magi (and therefore the Chantry). They are hunted by the templars, and quite often they will turn to forbidden knowledge in order to survive, but it would be a lie to say that all apostates begin that way.
Historically, apostates become such in one of two ways: They are either mages who have escaped from the Circle or mages who were never part of it to begin with. This latter category includes what we tend to refer to as "hedge mages"--those with magical ability out in the hinterlands who follow a different magical tradition than our own. Some of these hedge mages are not even aware of their nature. Undeveloped, their abilities can express themselves in a variety of ways, which the hedge mage might attribute to faith, or will, or to another being entirely (depending on his nature). Some of these traditions are passed down from generation to generation, as with the so-called "witches" of the Chasind wilders or the "shamans" of the Avvar barbarians.
No matter how a mage has become apostate, the Chantry treats them alike: Templars begin a systematic hunt to bring the apostate to justice. In almost all cases, "justice" is execution. If there is some overriding reason the mage should live, the Rite of Tranquility is employed instead. Whether we of the Circle of Magi believe this system fair is irrelevant: It is what it is.
--From Patterns Within Form, by Halden, First Enchanter of Starkhaven, 8:80 Blessed.
No traveler to the Fade can fail to spot the Black City. It is one of the few constants of that ever-changing place. No matter where one might be, the city is visible. (Always far off, for it seems that the only rule of geography in the Fade is that all points are equidistant from the Black City.)
The Chant teaches that the Black City was once the seat of the Maker, from whence He ruled the Fade, left empty when men turned away from Him. Dreamers do not go there, nor do spirits. Even the most powerful demons seem to avoid the place.
It was golden and beautiful once, so the story goes, until a group of powerful magister-lords from the Tevinter Imperium devised a means of breaking in. When they did so, their presence defiled the city, turning it black. (Which was, perhaps, the least of their worries.)
--From Beyond the Veil: Spirits and Demons, by Enchanter Mirdromel
Codex Entry 66: The Chant of Light on the first darkspawn
No matter their power, their triumphs,
The mage-lords of Tevinter were men
And doomed to die.
Then a voice whispered within their hearts,
Shall you surrender your power
To time like the beasts of the fields?
You are the Lords of the earth!
Go forth to claim the empty throne
Of Heaven and be gods.
In secret they worked
Magic upon magic
All their power and all their vanity
They turned against the Veil
Until at last, it gave way.
Above them, a river of Light,
Before them the throne of Heaven, waiting,
Beneath their feet
The footprints of the Maker,
And all around them echoed a vast
Silence.
But when they took a single step
Toward the empty throne
A great voice cried out
Shaking the very foundations
Of Heaven and earth:
And So is the Golden City blackened
With each step you take in my Hall.
Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting.
You have brought Sin to Heaven
And doom upon all the world.
Violently were they cast down,
For no mortal may walk bodily
In the realm of dreams,
Bearing the mark of their Crime:
Bodies so maimed
And distorted that none should see them
And know them for men.
Deep into the earth they fled,
Away from the Light.
In Darkness eternal they searched
For those who had goaded them on,
Until at last they found their prize,
Their god, their betrayer:
The sleeping dragon Dumat. Their taint
Twisted even the false-god, and the whisperer
Awoke at last, in pain and horror, and led
Them to wreak havoc upon all the nations of the world:
The first Blight.
--From Threnodies 8.
Codex Entry 67:The Chant of Light on the commandments of the Maker
These truths the Maker has revealed to me:
As there is but one world,
One life, one death, there is
But one god, and He is our Maker.
They are sinners, who have given their love
To false gods.
Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.
Foul and corrupt are they
Who have taken His gift
And turned it against His children.
They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones.
They shall find no rest in this world
Or beyond.
All men are the Work of our Maker's Hands,
From the lowest slaves
To the highest kings.
Those who bring harm
Without provocation to the least of His children
Are hated and accursed by the Maker.
Those who bear false witness
And work to deceive others, know this:
There is but one Truth.
All things are known to our Maker
And He shall judge their lies.
All things in this world are finite.
What one man gains, another has lost.
Those who steal from their brothers and sisters
Do harm to their livelihood and to their peace of mind.
Our Maker sees this with a heavy heart.
--Transfigurations1:1-5
Codex Entry 68: The Chant of Light on the Maker and Creation
There was no word
For heaven or for earth, for sea or sky.
All that existed was silence.
Then the Voice of the Maker rang out,
The first Word,
And His Word became all that might be:
Dream and idea, hope and fear,
Endless possibilities.
And from it made his firstborn.
And he said to them:
In My image I forge you,
To you I give dominion
Over all that exists.
By your will
May all things be done.
Then in the center of heaven
He called forth
A city with towers of gold,
streets with music for cobblestones,
And banners which flew without wind.
There, He dwelled, waiting
To see the wonders
His children would create.
The children of the Maker gathered
Before his golden throne
And sang hymns of praise unending.
But their songs
Were the songs of the cobblestones.
They shone with the golden light
Reflected from the Maker's throne.
They held forth the banners
That flew on their own.
And the Voice of the Maker shook the Fade
Saying: In My image I have wrought
My firstborn. You have been given dominion
Over all that exists. By your will
All things are done.
Yet you do nothing.
The realm I have given you
Is formless, ever-changing.
And He knew he had wrought amiss.
So the Maker turned from his firstborn
And took from the Fade
A measure of its living flesh
And placed it apart from the Spirits, and spoke to it, saying:
Here, I decree
Opposition in all things:
For earth, sky
For winter, summer
For darkness, Light.
By My Will alone is Balance sundered
And the world given new life.
And no longer was it formless, ever-changing,
But held fast, immutable,
With Words for heaven and for earth, sea and sky.
At last did the Maker
From the living world
Make men. Immutable, as the substance of the earth,
With souls made of dream and idea, hope and fear,
Endless possibilities.
Then the Maker said:
To you, my second-born, I grant this gift:
In your heart shall burn
An unquenchable flame
All-consuming, and never satisfied.
From the Fade I crafted you,
And to the Fade you shall return
Each night in dreams
That you may always remember me.
And then the Maker sealed the gates
Of the Golden City
And there, He dwelled, waiting
To see the wonders
His children would create.
--Threnodies 5:1-8
Codex Entry 70: On the schism of the Imperial Chantry
There are those who would tell you that the Chantry is the same everywhere as it is here, that the Divine in Val Royeaux reigns supreme in the eyes of the Maker and that this fact is unquestioned throughout Thedas.
Do not believe it.
The Maker's second commandment, "Magic must serve man, not rule over him," never held the same meaning within the ancient Tevinter Imperium as it did elsewhere. The Chantry there interpreted the rule as meaning that mages should never control the minds of other men, and that otherwise their magic should benefit the rulers of men as much as possible. When the clerics of Tevinter altered the Chant of Light to reflect this interpretation of the commandment, the Divine in Val Royeaux ordered the clerics to revert to the original Chant. They refused, claiming corruption within Val Royeaux, an argument that grew until, in 4:87 Towers, the Chantry in Tevinter elected its own "legitimate and uncorrupted" Divine Valhail--who was not only male, but also happened to be one of the most prominent members of the Tevinter Circle of the Magi. This "Black Divine" was reviled outside Tevinter, his existence an offense to the Chantry in Val Royeaux.
After four Exalted Marches to dislodge these "rebels," all that the Chantry in Val Royeaux accomplished was to cement the separation. While most aspects of the Imperial Chantry's teachings are the same, prohibitions against magic have been weakened, and male priests have become more prevalent. The Circle of the Magi today rules Tevinter directly, ever since the Archon Nomaran was elected in 7:34 Storm directly from the ranks of the enchanters, to great applause from the public. He dispensed with the old rules forbidding mages from taking part in politics, and within a century, the true rulers within the various imperial houses--the mages--took their places openly within the government. The Imperial Divine is now always drawn from the ranks of the first enchanters and operates as Divine and Grand Enchanter both.
This is utter heresy to any member of the Chantry outside of Tevinter, a return to the days of the magisters, which brought the Blights down upon us. But it exists, and even though we have left the Tevinter Imperium to the mercies of the dread qunari, still they have endured. Further confrontation between the Black Divine and our so-called "White Divine" is inevitable.
--From Edicts of the Black Divine, by Father David of Qarinus, 8:11 Blessed
Codex Entry 71: On the political structure of the Chantry
The Divine is the titular head of the Chantry, although since the schism split the Imperial Chantry into its own faction there are now in fact two Divines at any one time. One Divine, informally called the White Divine, is a woman housed in the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux. The other, known as the Black Divine, is a man housed in the Argent Spire in Minrathous.
Neither Divine recognizes the existence of the other, and the informal names are considered sacrilegious. No matter the gender, a Divine is addressed as "Most Holy" or "Your Perfection."
Beneath the rank of Divine is the grand cleric. Each grand cleric presides over numerous chantries and represents the highest religious authority for their region. They travel to Val Royeaux when the College of Clerics convenes, but otherwise remain where they are assigned. All grand clerics are addressed as "Your Grace."
Beneath the grand cleric is the mother (or, in the Imperial Chantry, the father). If a mother is in charge of a particular chantry, "revered" is appended to her title. These are the priests responsible for administering to the spiritual well-being of their flock. A mother or revered mother is addressed as "Your Reverence."
Brothers and sisters form the rank and file of the Chantry and consist of three main groups: affirmed, initiates, and clerics. Affirmed are the lay-brethren of the Chantry, those regular folk who have turned to the Chantry for succor. Often they are people who have led a diffi*** or irreligious life and have chosen to go into seclusion, or even orphans and similar unfortunates who were raised into the Chantry life. The Affirmed take care of the Chantry and are in turn afforded a life of quiet contemplation, no questions asked.
Only those folk who take vows become initiates. These are men and women in training, whether in academic knowledge or the martial skills of a warrior. All initiates receive an academic education, although only those who seek to become templars learn how to fight in addition.
Clerics are the true academics of the Chantry, those men and women who have dedicated themselves to the pursuit of knowledge. They are often found in Chantry archives, sages presiding over libraries of books and arcane knowledge. The most senior of these clerics, placed in charge of such archives, are given the title "elder," although such a rank is still beneath that of mother. All other brothers and sisters are addressed simply by noting their title before their name, such as "Brother Genitivi."
--From a guide for ambassadors from Rivain
Codex Entry 72: A discussion of the Order of Templars
Often portrayed as stoic and grim, the Order of Templars was created as the martial arm of the Chantry. Armed with the ability to dispel and resist magic in addition to their formidable combat talents, the templars are uniquely qualified to act as both a foil for apostates--mages who refuse to submit to the authority of the Circle--and a first line of defense against the dark powers of blood mages and abominations.
While mages often resent the templars as symbols of the Chantry's control over magic, the people of Thedas see them as saviors and holy warriors, champions of all that is good, armed with piety enough to protect the world from the ravages of foul magic. In reality, the Chantry's militant arm looks first for skilled warriors with unshakable faith in the Maker, with a flawless moral center as a secondary concern. Templars must carry out their duty with an emotional distance, and the Order of Templars prefers soldiers with religious fervor and absolute loyalty over paragons of virtue who might question orders when it comes time to make diffi*** choices.
The templars' power derives from the substance lyrium, a mineral believed to be the raw element of creation. While mages use lyrium in their arcane spells and rituals, templars ingest the primordial mineral to enhance their abilities to resist and dispel magic. Lyrium use is regulated by the Chantry, but some templars suffer from lyrium addiction, the effects of which include paranoia, obsession, and dementia. Templars knowingly submit themselves to this "treatment" in the service of the Order and the Maker.
It is this sense of ruthless piety that most frightens mages when they draw the templars' attention: When the templars are sent to eliminate a possible blood mage, there is no reasoning with them, and if the templars are prepared, the mage's magic is all but useless. Driven by their faith, the templars are one of the most feared and respected forces in Thedas.
--From Patterns Within Form, by Halden, First Enchanter of Starkhaven, 8:80 Blessed
Kordilius Drakon, king of the city-state of Orlais, was a man of uncommon ambition. In the year -15 Ancient, the young king began construction of a great temple dedicated to the Maker, and declared that by its completion he would not only have united the warring city-states of the south, he would have brought Andrastian belief to the world.
In -3 Ancient, the temple was completed. There, in its heart, Drakon knelt before the eternal flame of Andraste and was crowned ruler of the Empire of Orlais. His first act as Emperor: To declare the Chantry as the established Andrastian religion of the Empire.
It took three years and several hundred votes before Olessa of Montsimmard was elected to lead the new Chantry. Upon her coronation as Divine, she took the name Justinia, in honor of the disciple who recorded Andraste's songs. In that moment, the ancient era ended and the Divine Age began.
--From Ferelden: Folklore and History, by Sister Petrine, Chantry scholar.
Codex Entry 74: A brief description of the fraternities of enchanters
Another aspect of Circle life is the fraternity. When a mage becomes an enchanter, he may ally himself with a fraternity. These are cliques that cross Circle boundaries, mages of common interests and goals who band together to ensure that their voice is heard within the College of Magi in Cumberland. The largest fraternities currently are:
the Loyalists, who advocate loyalty and obedience to the Chantry.
the Aequitarians, who advocate temperance and follow a distinct code of conduct which they believe all mages should hold themselves to.
the Libertarians, a growing fraternity, publicly maintaining greater power for the Circles but secretly advocating a complete split from the Chantry--a dangerous opinion, naturally.
the Isolationists, a small group that advocates withdrawing to remote territories in order to avoid conflicts with the general populace.
the Lucrosians, who maintain that the Circle must do what is profitable first and foremost. They prioritize the accumulation of wealth, with the gaining of political influence a close second.
So far, an alliance between the Loyalists and Aequitarians has prevented the Libertarians from gaining much headway, but there are signs that the Aequitarians may throw their support in with the Libertarians. If that happens, many mages predict it will come to civil war among the Circles.
--From The Circle of the Magi: A History, by First Enchanter Josephus
It is no simple matter, safeguarding ordinary men from mages, and mages from themselves. Each Circle tower must have some measure of self-government, for it is ever the Maker's will that men be given the power to take responsibility for our own actions: To sin and fail, as well as to achieve the highest grace and glory on our own strength.
You, who will be tasked with the protection of the Circle, must be aware of its workings. The first enchanter is the heart of any tower. He will determine the course his Circle will take, he will choose which apprentices may be tested and made full mages, and you will work most closely with him.
Assisting the first enchanter will be the senior enchanters, a small council of the most trusted and experienced magi in the tower. From this group, the next first enchanter is always chosen. Beneath the council are the enchanters. These are the teachers and mentors of the tower, and you must get to know them in order to keep your finger on the pulse of the Circle, for the enchanters will always know what is happening among the children.
All those who have passed their Harrowing but have not taken apprentices are mages. This is where most trouble in a Circle lies, in the idleness and inexperience of youth. The untested apprentices are the most numerous denizens of any tower, but they more often pose threats to themselves, due to their lack of training, than to anyone else.
--Knight-Commander Serain of the Chantry templars, in a letter to his successor
Codex Entry 76: An account of the foundation of the Circle
It is a truth universally acknowledged that nothing is more successful at inspiring a person to mischief as being told not to do something. Unfortunately, the Chantry of the Divine Age had some trouble with obvious truths. Although it did not outlaw magic--quite the contrary, as the Chantry relied upon magic to kindle the eternal flame which burns in every brazier in every chantry--it relegated mages to lighting candles and lamps. Perhaps occasional dusting of rafters and eaves.
I will give my readers a moment to contemplate how well such a role satisfied the mages of the time.
It surprised absolutely no one when the mages of Val Royeaux, in protest, snuffed the sacred flames of the cathedral and barricaded themselves inside the choir loft. No one, that is, but Divine Ambrosia II, who was outraged and attempted to order an Exalted March upon her own cathedral. Even her most devout Templars discouraged that idea. For 21 days, the fires remained unlit while negotiations were conducted, legend tells us, by shouting back and forth from the loft.
The mages went cheerily into exile in a remote fortress outside of the capital, where they would be kept under the watchful eye of the Templars and a council of their own elder magi. Outside of normal society, and outside of the Chantry, the mages would form their own closed society, the Circle, separated for the first time in human history.
--From Of Fires, Circles, and Templars: A History of Magic in the Chantry, by Sister Petrine, Chantry scholar
Codex Entry 77: An explanation of the Fade and its relation to dreams
The study of the Fade is as old as humankind. For so long as men have dreamed, we have walked its twisting paths, sometimes catching a glimpse of the city at its heart. Always as close as our own thoughts, but impossibly separated from our world.
The Tevinter Imperium once spent vast fortunes of gold, lyrium, and human slaves in an effort to map the terrain of the Fade, an ultimately futile endeavor. Although portions of it belong to powerful spirits, all of the Fade is in constant flux. The Imperium succeeded in finding the disparate and ever-shifting realms of a dozen demon lords, as well as cataloging a few hundred types of spirits, before they were forced to abandon the project.
The relationship of dreamers to the Fade is complex. Even when entering the Fade through the use of lyrium, mortals are not able to control or affect it. The spirits who dwell there, however, can, and as the Chantry teaches us, the great flaw of the spirits is that they have neither imagination nor ambition. They create what they see through their sleeping visitors, building elaborate copies of our cities, people, and events, which, like the reflections in a mirror, ultimately lack context or life of their own. Even the most powerful demons merely plagiarize the worst thoughts and fears of mortals, and build their realms with no other ambition than to taste life.
--From Tranquility and the Role of the Fade in Human Culture, by First Enchanter Josephus
Among apprentices of the Circle, nothing is regarded with more fear than the Harrowing. Little is known about this rite of passage, and that alone would be cause for dread. But it is well understood that only those apprentices who pass this trial are ever seen again. They return as full members of the Circle of Magi. Of those who fail, nothing is known. Perhaps they are sent away in disgrace. Perhaps they are killed on the spot. I heard one patently ridiculous rumor among the Circle at Rivain, which claimed that failed apprentices were transformed into pigs, fattened up, and served at dinner to the senior enchanters. But I could find no evidence that the Rivaini Circle ate any particular quantity of pork.—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of A Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi.
More than half the wealth of Orzammar comes from a single, extremely rare substance: Lyrium. The Chantry believes it to be the "Waters of the Fade" mentioned in the Canticle of Threnodies, the very stuff of creation itself, from whence the Maker fashioned the world. Only a handful of Mining Caste families hazard extracting the ore, finding veins in the Stone quite literally by ear. For in its raw form, lyrium sings, and the discerning can hear the sound even through solid rock.
Even though dwarves have a natural resistance, raw lyrium is dangerous for all but the most experienced of the Mining Caste to handle. Even for dwarves, exposure to the unprocessed mineral can cause deafness or memory loss. For humans and elves, direct contact with lyrium ore produces nausea, blistering of the skin, and dementia. Mages cannot even approach unprocessed lyrium. Doing so is invariably fatal.
Despite its dangers, lyrium is the single most valuable mineral currently known. In the Tevinter Imperium, it has been known to command a higher price than diamond. The dwarves sell very little of the processed mineral to the surface, giving the greater portion of what they mine to their own smiths, who use it in the forging of all truly superior dwarven weapons and armor. What processed lyrium is sold on the surface goes only to the Chantry, who strictly control the supply. From the Chantry, it is dispensed both to the templars, who make use of it in tracking and fighting maleficarum, and to the Circle.
In the hands of the Circle, lyrium reaches its fullest potential. Their Formari craftsmen transform it into an array of useful items from the practical, such as magically hardened stone for construction, to the legendary silver armor of King Calenhad.
When mixed into liquid and ingested, lyrium allows mages to enter the Fade fully aware, unlike all others who reach it only while dreaming. Such potions can also be used to aid in the casting of especially taxing spells, for a short time granting a mage far greater power than he normally wields.
Lyrium has its costs, however. Prolonged use becomes addictive, the cravings unbearable. Over time, templars grow disoriented, incapable of distinguishing memory from present, or dream from waking. They frequently become paranoid, as their worst memories and nightmares haunt their waking hours. Mages have additionally been known to suffer physical mutation: The magister lords of the Tevinter Imperium were widely reputed to have been so affected by their years of lyrium use that they could not be recognized by their own kin, nor even as creatures that had once been human.
--From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi.
It has been asked, "What are maleficarum? How shall we know them?" I have been as troubled by this question as you. You have come to me for the wisdom of the Maker, but none have seen the Maker's heart save Beloved Andraste. And so I have done as all mortals must, and looked to the words of His prophet for answers. And there, I found respite from a troubled mind.
For she has said to us, "Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him." Therefore, I say to you, they who work magic which dominates the minds and hearts of others, they have transgressed the Maker's law.
Also, Our Lady said to us, "Those who bring harm without provocation to the least of His children are hated and accursed by the Maker." And so it is made clear to me, as it should be to us all: That magic which fuels itself by harming others, by the letting of blood, is hated by the Maker.
Those mages who honor the Maker and keep His laws we welcome as our brothers and sisters. Those who reject the laws of the Maker and the words of His prophet are apostate. They shall be cast out, and given no place among us.
Mana is that which defines a mage. It is potential that dwells within a person but does not always manifest itself. All men are connected to the Fade; we go there to dream. But only those with this potential may draw upon its power.
Mana is, then, a measurement of one's ability to draw power from the Fade, and it is this power that is expended in magic.
As in all other things, it has limits. Just as a man has the strength to lift only so much weight and no more, a mage cannot work more magic at one time than his mana allows. If he wishes to work magic that would be beyond his strength, a mage must bolster his mana with lyrium. Without lyrium, it is possible for the reckless to expend their own life-force in the working of magic, and occasionally, ambitious apprentices injure or even kill themselves by over-exertion.
Codex Entry 82:Why do demons seek to possess the living?
History claims they are malevolent spirits, the first children of the Maker, angry at their creator for turning from them and jealous of those creations he considered superior. They stare across the Veil at the living and do not understand what they see, yet they know they crave it. They desire life, they pull the living across the Veil when they sleep and prey on their psyche with nightmares. Whenever they can, they cross the Veil into our world to possess it outright.
We know that any demon will seek to possess a mage, and upon doing so will create an abomination. Most of the world does not know, however, that the strength of an abomination depends entirely on the power of the demon that possesses the mage. This is true, in fact, of all possessed creatures. One demon is not the same as any other.
Demons can, for instance, be classified. Enchanter Brahm's categorization of demons into that portion of the psyche they primarily prey upon has held since the Tower Age.
According to Brahm, the weakest and most common of demons are those of rage. They are the least intelligent and most prone to violent outbursts against the living. They expend their energies quickly, the most powerful of them exhibiting great strength and occasionally the ability to generate fire.
Next are the demons of hunger. In a living host they become cannibals and vampires, and within the dead they feed upon the living. Theirs are the powers of draining, both of life force and of mana.
Next are the demons of sloth, the first on Brahm's scale that are capable of true intelligence. In its true form, this demon is known as a shade, a thing which is nearly indistinct and invisible, for such is sloth's nature. It hides and stalks, unaware, and when confronted, it sows fatigue and apathy.
Demons of desire are amongst the most powerful, and are the ones most likely to seek out the living and actively trick them into a deal. These demons will exploit anything that can be coveted--wealth, power, lust--and they will always end up getting far more than they give. A desire demon's province is that of illusions and mind control.
Strongest of all demons are those of pride. These are the most feared creatures to loose upon the world: Masters of magic and in possession of vast intellect, they are the true schemers. It is they who seek most strongly to possess mages, and will bring other demons across the Veil in numbers to achieve their own ends--although what that might be has never been discovered. A greater pride demon, brought across the veil, would threaten the entire world.
--From The Maker's First Children, by Bader, Senior Enchanter of Ostwick, 8:12 Blessed
You must not be under the misimpression that magic is all-powerful. There are limits, and not even the greatest mages may overcome them.
No one, for instance, has found any means of traveling--either over great distances or small ones--beyond putting one foot in front of the other. The immutable nature of the physical world prevents this. So no, you may not simply pop over to Minrathous to borrow a cup of sugar, nor may you magic the essay you "forgot" in the apprentice dormitory to your desk. You will simply have to be prepared.
Similarly, even when you send your mind into the Fade, your body remains behind. Only once has this barrier been overcome, and reputedly the spell required two-thirds of the lyrium in the Tevinter Imperium as well as the lifeblood of several hundred slaves. The results were utterly disastrous.
Finally, life is finite. A truly great healer may bring someone back from the very precipice of death, when breath and heartbeat have ceased but the spirit still clings to life. But once the spirit has fled the body, it cannot be recalled. That is no failing of your skills or power, it is simple reality.
Foul and corrupt are you
Who have taken My gift
And turned it against My children.
-- Transfigurations 18:10.
The ancient Tevinters did not originally consider blood magic a school of its own. Rather, they saw it as a means to achieve greater power in any school of magic. The name, of course, refers to the fact that magic of this type uses life, specifically in the form of blood, instead of mana. It was common practice, at one time, for a magister to keep a number of slaves on hand so that, should he undertake the working of a spell that was physically beyond his abilities, he could use the blood of his slaves to bolster the casting.
Over time, however, the Imperium discovered types of spells that could only be worked by blood. Although lyrium will allow a mage to send his conscious mind into the Fade, blood would allow him to find the sleeping minds of others, view their dreams, and even influence or dominate their thoughts. Just as treacherous, blood magic allows the Veil to be opened completely so that demons may physically pass through it into our world.
The rise of the Chant of Light and the subsequent fall of the old Imperium has led to blood magic being all but stamped out--as it should be, for it poses nearly as great a danger to those who would practice it as to the world at large.
--From The Four Schools: A Treatise, by First Enchanter Josephus.
Opposition in all things
For earth, sky
For winter, summer
For darkness, Light.
By My will alone is balance sundered
And the world given new life.
--Threnodies 5:5.
The School of Creation, sometimes called the School of Nature, is the second of the Schools of Matter, the balancing force and complement of Entropy. Creation magic manipulates natural forces, transforming what exists and bringing new things into being.
Creation requires considerable finesse, more than any other school, and is therefore rarely mastered. Those mages who have made a serious study of creation are the highest in demand, useful in times of peace as well as war.
--From The Four Schools: A Treatise, by First Enchanter Josephus.
Codex Entry 86: An explanation of the Entropic School of magic.
To you, my second-born, I grant this gift:
In your heart shall burn
An unquenchable flame
All-consuming, and never satisfied.
-- Threnodies 5:7.
The second of the two Schools of Matter, Entropy is the opposing force of Creation; for this reason it is often called the School of Negation. Nothing lives without death. Time inevitably brings an end to all things in the material world, and yet in this ending is the seed of a beginning. A river may flood its banks, causing havoc, but bring new life to its floodplain. The fire that burns a forest ushers in new growth. And so it is with entropic magic that we manipulate the forces of erosion, decay, and destruction to create anew.
--From The Four Schools: A Treatise, by First Enchanter Josephus.
Codex Entry 87: An explanation of the Primal School of magic.
Those who oppose thee
Shall know the wrath of heaven.
Field and forest shall burn,
The seas shall rise and devour them,
The wind shall tear their nations
From the face of the earth,
Lightning shall rain down from the sky,
They shall cry out to their false gods,
And find silence.
--Andraste 7:19.
Sometimes called the School of Power, the Primal School is the second of the Schools of Energy, balanced by Spirit, and concerns the most visible and tangible forces of nature itself.
This is the magic of war: Fire, ice, and lightning. Devastation. This is what the vast majority imagines when they hear the word "magic."
--From The Four Schools: A Treatise, by First Enchanter Josephus.
Codex Entry 88: A brief explanation of the Spirit School of magic.
And the voice of the Maker shook the Fade
Saying: In My image I have wrought
My firstborn. You have been given dominion
Over all that exists. By your will
All things are done.
Yet you do nothing.
The realm I have given you
Is formless, ever-changing.
--Threnodies 5:4.
The first of the two Schools of Energy, Spirit is opposed by the Primal School. It is the school of mystery, the ephemeral school. This is the study of the invisible energies which surround us at all times, yet are outside of nature. It is from the Fade itself that this magic draws its power. Students of this school cover everything from direct manipulation of mana and spell energies to the study and summoning of spirits themselves.
By its nature an esoteric school, as most others know virtually nothing about the Fade, studies of spirit magic are often misunderstood by the general populace, or even confused for blood magic--an unfortunate fate for a most useful branch of study.
--From The Four Schools: A Treatise, by First Enchanter Josephus.
Codex Entry 89: A discussion of the creatures of the Fade
It is challenging enough for the casual observer to tell the difference between the Fade and the creatures that live within it, let alone between one type of spirit and another. In truth, there is little that distinguishes them, even for the most astute mages. Since spirits are not physical entities and are therefore not restricted to recognizable forms (or even having a form at all), one can never tell for certain what is alive and what is merely part of the scenery. (It is therefore advisable for the inexperienced researcher to greet all objects he encounters.)
Typically, we misuse the term "spirit" to refer only to the benign, or at least less malevolent, creatures of the Fade, but in truth, all the denizens of the realm beyond the Veil are spirits. As the Chant of Light notes, everything within the Fade is a mimicry of our world. (A poor imitation, for the spirits do not remotely understand what they are copying. It is no surprise that much of the Fade appears like a manuscript translated from Tevinter into Orlesian and back again by drunken initiates.)
In general, spirits are not complex. Or, rather, they are not complex as we understand such things. Each one seizes upon a single facet of human experience: Rage, hunger, compassion, hope, etc. This one idea becomes their identity. We classify as demons those spirits who identify themselves with darker human emotions and ideas.
The most common and weakest form of demon one encounters in the Fade is the rage demon. They are much like perpetually boiling kettles, for they exist only to vent hatred, but rarely have an object to hate. Somewhat above these are the hunger demons, who do little but eat or attempt to eat everything they encounter, including other demons (this is rarely successful). Then there are the sloth demons. These are the first intelligent creatures one typically finds in the Fade. They are dangerous only on those rare occasions that they can be induced to get up and do harm. Desire demons are more clever, and far more powerful, using all forms of bribery to induce mortals into their realms: Wealth, love, vengeance, whatever lies closest to your heart. The most powerful demons yet encountered are the pride demons, perhaps because they, among all their kind, most resemble men.
--From Beyond the Veil: Spirits and Demons, by Enchanter Mirdromel.
The Tranquil are the least understood but most visible members of the Circle. Every city of respectable size boasts a Circle of Magi shop, and every one of these shops is run by a Tranquil proprietor.
The name is a misnomer, for they are not tranquil at all; rather, they are like inanimate objects that speak. If a table wished to sell you an enchanted penknife, it could pass as one of these people. Their eyes are expressionless, their voices monotone. Incomparable craftsmen they might be, but they are hardly the sort of mages to put ordinary folk at ease.
--From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of A Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi.
Entry Codex 91: The legend of the Urn of Sacred Ashes
Only one person witnessed Maferath's betrayal: Havard the Aegis. A childhood friend of Maferath, he accompanied his chief to the meeting with the Tevinters, not realizing what was planned. When he understood that Maferath was giving Andraste over to be executed, Havard, unwilling to draw swords against his friend and liege, placed himself between Andraste and the Tevinter soldiers. The Tevinters struck him down, and Maferath left him for dead.
Gravely wounded, Havard made his way to the gates of Minrathous to stop the execution. When he reached it, the terrible deed was already done, the armies on the plains long since dispersed. Havard, cursing his weakness, gathered the earthly remains of Andraste that had been left to the wind and rain, and wept. When his fingers touched the pile of ash, his ears filled with song, and he saw before him a vision of Andraste, dressed in cloth made of starlight. She knelt at his side, saying, "The Maker shall never forget you so long as I remember."
The song faded, and the vision with it. And Havard was alone. But his wounds were healed. With new strength, Havard took up the ashes of Our Lady, and bore them back to the lands of the Alamarri.
I detest this notion that the Veil is some manner of invisible "curtain" that separates the world of the living from the world of the spirits (whether it be called the Fade or the Beyond is a matter of racial politics I refuse to indulge in at the moment). There is no "this side" and "that side" when it comes to the Veil. One cannot think of it as a physical thing or a barrier or even a "shimmering wall of holy light" (thank you very much for that image, Your Perfection).
Think of the Veil, instead, as opening one's eyes.
Before you opened them, you saw our world as you see it now: static, solid, unchanging. Now that they are open, you see our world as the spirits see it: chaotic, ever-changing, a realm where the imagined and the remembered have as much substance as that which is real--more, in fact. A spirit sees everything as defined by will and memory, and this is why they are so very lost when they cross the Veil. In our world, imagination has no substance. Objects exist independently of how we remember them or what emotions we associate with them. Mages alone possess the power to change the world with their minds, and perhaps this forms the nature of a demon's attraction to them--who can say?
Regardless, the act of passing through the Veil is much more about changing one's perceptions than a physical transition. The Veil is an idea, it is the act of transition itself, and it is only the fact that both living beings and spirits find the transition diffi*** that gives the Veil any credence as a physical barrier at all.
--From A Dissertation on the Fade as a Physical Manifestation, by Mareno, Senior Enchanter of the Minrathous Circle of Magi, 6:55 Steel.