Codex: History



A Celebration Of Wardens
Codex entry A Celebration Of Wardens
Number: 1
Location: Frostback Basin - Paintings on stone just outside the Old Drains
DLC: Jaws of Hakkon

Outside times of Blight, Grey Wardens investigate rumors ofdarkspawn. Ser Kiersten of the Free Marches mounted an expedition to the Frostback Basin to look into one such sighting. She and her fellow Wardens allied themselves with an Avvar hold besieged by darkspawn after an earthquake in the mountains tore open a new passage to the surface. After ten days of fighting, the Wardens and the Avvar drove the darkspawn back and sealed the entrance against further incursions. In celebration of her bravery, the Avvar deployed a feast for Ser Kiersten and her Grey Wardens so legendarily boisterous that there are still paintings and statues dedicated to their alliance littered around the Basin.

—From Journeys of the Wardens: A Comprehensive History by Lady Locke


A Chant for the Departed
Codex entry A Chant for the Departed
Number: 1 (+1JoH)
Location: Haven Chantry - barrel to left of door that leads downstairs

The Light shall lead her safely
Through the paths of this world, and into the next.
For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water.
As the moth sees light and goes toward flame,
She should see fire and go towards Light.
The Veil holds no uncertainty for her,
And she will know no fear of death, for the Maker
Shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword.
—Transfigurations 10:1, often sung by mourners as they light candles


 A Journal on Dwarven Ruins
 Codex entry A Journal on Dwarven Ruins
Number: 2 (+1 JoH)
Location: Pages found throughout theHissing Wastes

I didn't think the Hissing Wastes would be so lively, but there are hunters prowling the dunes. One of them showed me a hidden watering hole, and some fine spots to camp. I asked her about the old thaig, but she didn't even know what a "thaig" was until I explained dwarves had more cities than just Orzammar. She clearly thinks I'm barmy, coming all the way here to study the ruins. Polite about it, though.

The statues here were chiseled thousands of years ago, I'm sure of it. Either these people loved dwarven architecture, or the "commonly known fact" that dwarves never built cities on the surface is wrong. This is the stuff world—famous treaties are made of.

The inscriptions on the ruins are all in the old tongue. (Thank you, Grandmother, for teaching this ungrateful brat Old Dwarven.) The writing talks about "the sad parting from the Stone." Hundreds of years ago, several houses left their thaigs to settle here under one leader. They were running from a war, or running so there wouldn't be a war? I read and re-read the pillars until the light faded, but I know I'm missing something.

I'll go back tomorrow. I wish Felicity's sister hadn't talked her out of joining me. I could use an extra pair of eyes to keep watch at night.

It's a Paragon. The man who lead the people here, who built this city, was master smith Paragon Fairel.

Legend says he died in the Deep Roads during a war between two thaigs who used his runework to build fantastic weapons of destruction. If he escaped up here, that means the records are wrong, or someone a thousand years ago tried to pretty-up the truth about his leaving. The most talented Shaper of Runes in dwarven history, escaping with his entire house to the surface—now that will fluff some beards in theShaperate!

My father said our old family business used to be near an archway that was part of Fairel's Paragon statue. I wish I could have shown him this. He's the one who wanted to believe our ancestors in the Stone were still guiding us. Be nice to think it were true, old man.

I was tracing heraldry etched on a wall when I noticed pictures of weapons with winged lizards worked into the decoration. I spent the rest of the day translating the inscriptions. This verse was apparently passed down through Fairel's house, through his father to his father's father and so on for hundred of generations:

"From the Stone, have no fear of anything,
but the stone-less sky betrays with wings of flame.
If the surface must be breached, if there is no other
bring weapons against the urtok, and heed their
"Urtok" means "dragon." Why was it part of an ancient crest? Why were these dwarves so worried about a monster they'd never see that they worked it into their weapons?

This place becomes more impossible each day.

A few days ago, I turned from a statue to find a human woman staring at me. She didn't react when I screamed, or when I ran around picking up my dropped notes. When I asked who she was and how long she'd been standing there, she quoted some verses of the Chant at me, polite as you please. I offered her some water, but she shook her head, pointed to the east, and said "Blessed are those with fortitude, for they persevere in the name of the Maker." When I glanced back, she was gone.

The poor woman must be touched. She seemed harmless, but I don't know how she gets around so quickly in this heat.

I have just discovered Fairel's tomb in the east. I've never seen something so sodding grand in all my life. I won't write an essay on this place, I'll write a book. Several books. I will be rich and bring a whole expedition here and the University of Orlais will beg me to lecture when I'm not presenting my findings to the empress herself over dinner.

That is, if I can get inside the Fairel's tomb. The doors are sealed tight. It looks like there's a keyhole, but none of the ruins I've seen have anything even hinting at a key. On the way out, I saw I'd missed a few bones on the ground. They were still bloody. Sheer luck that whatever lives there wasn't home when I arrived.

A group of human mages have moved in. They're digging out buildings deep in the sand. When I tried to approach them, one of the workers dragged me aside and whispered to me to leave before "the Venatori" caught me. I wasn't going to listen until he showed me his cuts. These mages have been bleeding him for their spells!

I ran. I wish there were something I could do. What do these "Venatori" want? the buildings I saw looked like tombs in the ancient style. Fairel was a master runesmith. Maybe the city revered his work enough to seal it away...

Not a good day. Sandstorm blew in for hours, and I was almost bitten in half by one of those terrible spiders. Making the fire nice and bright tonight. Wound's wrapped up, but it feels hot to the touch. Dizzy. Rest a few days?

Discovered one interesting thing in all the mess—the name of this place. I puzzled it from some carvings on the doors of Fairel's tomb. Kal Repartha: "A place where we may meet in peace."

I hope they found peace.


A Study of the Fifth Blight, Vol. One
 Codex entry A Study of the Fifth Blight, Vol. One
Number: 3 (+1JoH)
Location: Haven, after asking quartermaster Threnn about her background

While some of my contemporaries dispute whether the Fifth Blight was a true Blight or merely a large darkspawn resurgence, historians agree that it began in the swamps of the Korcari Wildson the southeastern border of Ferelden in the year 9:30 Dragon.

King Cailan Theirin was swift in responding to the threat, gathering the royal army, every Grey Warden in his country, and sending a call for aid to the Ferelden nobility. The assembled armies laid a trap in the ruins of Ostagar, hoping to crush the force before it reached civilization. But they failed.

Darkspawn overran the defenders of Ostagar and decimated the king and his army. They continued their advance into Ferelden unopposed. Only two Grey Wardens managed to escape the slaughter. And somehow, they came into possession of ancient treaties, which compelled the races of men to join arms against the massing horde.

 Broken Circle...

If the Hero of Ferelden (preset) or Martyr (preset) is selected or imported from a save where the mages were recruited: 
The surviving Wardens made their way to Kinloch Hold, home of the Ferelden Circle, and conscripted themages.

If the No Compromise (preset) is selected or imported from a save where the Templars were recruited: 
The surviving Wardens made their way to Kinloch Hold, and assisted in annulling the Fereldan Circle of Magi, which had fallen to abominations. With the end of that tragic disaster, the Wardens conscripted the templars.

Nature of the Beast...

If the Hero of Ferelden (preset) or Martyr (preset) is selected or imported from a save where the Dalish Elves were recruited: 
In desperation to find more allies, the Wardens journeyed into the Brecilian Forest, seeking the Dalish. Theelves, too, joined the growing army.

If the No Compromise (preset) is selected or imported from a save where the the Werewolves were recruited: 
In desperation to find more allies, the Wardens journeyed into the Brecilian Forest, seeking the Dalish. The elves failed to uphold their treaty, but another answered in their place: Werewolves, straight out of Fereldan folktales, joined the growing army.

A Paragon of Her Kind-Supported Paragon and Fate of The Anvil of the Void...

If the Hero of Ferelden (preset) is selected or imported from a save where the Anvil of the Void is destroyed: 
Into the Deep Roads the surviving Wardens went, searching for Paragon Branka in hopes she could settle the unrest in Orzammar and unite the dwarves in the battle against the Archdemon. Branka could not be located, but another Paragon was found: the legendary Caridin, who forged a crown that ended all question of succession.

If the Martyr (preset) is selected or imported from a save where Branka commits suicide: 
Into the Deep Roads the survivors went, searching for Paragon Branka in hopes she could settle the unrest in Orzammar and unite the dwarves in the battle against the Archdemon. They found her, and she forged a crown that played a key role in sorting out the royal succession.

If the No Compromise (preset) is selected or imported from a save where the Anvil of the Void was reclaimed: 
Into the Deep Roads the surviving Wardens went, searching for Paragon Branka in hopes she could settle the unrest in Orzammar and unite the dwarves in the battle against the Archdemon. Not only did the Paragon settle the matter of royal succession, but she also reclaimed the lost secrets of golem manufacture. An army of stone and steel joined the war effort.

A Paragon of Her Kind-Ruler of Orzammar...

If the Martyr (preset) is selected or imported from a save where Prince Bhelen is crowned king: 
Bhelen Aeducan was crowned king of Orzammar, and the dwarven armies marched for the surface.

If the Hero of Ferelden (preset) or No Compromise (preset) is selected or imported from a save where Lord Harrowmont is crowned king: 
Pyral Harrowmont was crowned king of Orzammar, and the dwarven armies marched for the surface.
Despite their successes, though, greater challenges were yet to come.

—From A Study of the Fifth Blight, by Sister Petrine, Chantry scholar


 A Study of the Fifth Blight, Vol. Two
 Codex entry A Study of the Fifth Blight, Vol. Two
Number: 4 (+1JoH)
Location: Haven, after speaking to smith Harritt about his background

The Wardens sought Arl Eamon, uncle of the late King Cailan, in the hopes of mustering troops from the Fereldan nobility. Upon arriving in Redcliffe they learned that the arl had fallen ill and was near death. His knights had gone in pursuit of the fabled Ashes ofAndraste, Eamon's only hope for a cure, and the village surrounding the Keep was beset by a host of animated corpses. The Wardens found and stopped the demon behind the undead before joining the search for Eamon's cure.

If the Warden stopped the undead and liberated Redcliffe...
The Wardens sought Arl Eamon, uncle of the late King Cailan, in the hopes of mustering troops from the Fereldan nobility. Upon arriving in Redcliffe they learned that the arl had fallen ill and was near death. His knights had gone in pursuit of the fabled Ashes of Andraste, Eamon's only hope for a cure, and the village surrounding the Keep was beset by a host of animated corpses. The Wardens found and stopped the demon behind the undead before joining the search for Eamon's cure.

If the Warden left Redcliffe without lending their aid...
The Wardens sought Arl Eamon, uncle of the late King Cailan, in the hopes of mustering troops from the Fereldan nobility. But upon arriving in Redcliffe, they learned that the arl had fallen ill and was near death, his knights gone in pursuit of the fabled Ashes of Andraste, as his only hope for a cure. The Wardens immediately set out to join the search for the Ashes.

No one is certain if the Wardens actually located the final resting place of Our Lady Andraste, but whatever they found saved the arl of Redcliffe.

Upon his recovery, Eamon Guerrin called for a Landsmeet and he and the Wardens traveled to Denerim.

If Loghain was conscripted into the Wardens and Anora and Alistair became King and Queen...
The gathered lords and ladies of Ferelden found Teyrn Loghain guilty of a number of crimes. He was sentenced to join the Grey Wardens to atone for his deeds. Furthermore, the Landsmeet bore witness to the betrothal of Queen Anora to Alistair Theirin, the lost son of Maric. The nobility then pledged their own armies in the battle against the Blight.

If Loghain was conscripted into the Wardens and Anora remained Queen with Warden Cousland as Prince-Consort...
The gathered lords and ladies of Ferelden found Teyrn Loghain guilty of a number of crimes. He was sentenced to join the Grey Wardens to atone for his deeds. Furthermore, the Landsmeet bore witness to the betrothal of Queen Anora to Teyrn Bryce Cousland's youngest son, who was one of the two Grey Wardens to survive Ostagar. The nobility then pledged their own armies in the battle against the Blight.

If Loghain was conscripted into the Wardens and Anora remained Queen...
The gathered lords and ladies of Ferelden found Teyrn Loghain guilty of a number of crimes. He was sentenced to join the Grey Wardens to atone for his deeds. Furthermore, the Landsmeet granted the vacant throne to Anora, widow of King Cailan. The nobility then pledged their own armies in the battle against the Blight.

If Loghain was executed and Anora remained Queen...
The gathered lords and ladies of Ferelden found Teyrn Loghain guilty of a number of crimes and sentenced him to execution. Furthermore, the Landsmeet granted the vacant throne to Anora, widow of King Cailan. The nobility then pledged their own armies in the battle against the Blight.

If Loghain was executed and Anora and Alistair became King and Queen...
The gathered lords and ladies of Ferelden found Teyrn Loghain guilty of a number of crimes and sentenced him to execution. Furthermore, the Landsmeet bore witness to the betrothal of Queen Anora to Alistair Theirin, the lost son of Maric. The nobility then pledged their own armies in the battle against the Blight.

If Loghain was executed, Alistair became King and was married to Warden Cousland as Queen ...
The gathered lords and ladies of Ferelden found Teyrn Loghain guilty of a number of crimes and sentenced him to execution. Furthermore, the Landsmeet granted the throne to Alistair Theirin, the lost son of Maric, and bore witness to his betrothal to Teyrn Bryce Cousland's daughter. The nobility then pledged their own armies in the battle against the Blight.

If Loghain was executed and Alistair became King ...
The gathered lords and ladies of Ferelden found Teyrn Loghain guilty of a number of crimes and sentenced him to execution. Furthermore, the Landsmeet granted the throne to Alistair Theirin, the lost son of Maric. The nobility then pledged their own armies in the battle against the Blight.

If the Warden perished in the final battle...
The Archdemon clashed with the allied forces at the city of Denerim and was eventually slain, but at terrible cost. Much of the city lay in ruin and the Warden who rallied the armies—later known as the Hero of Ferelden—perished in battle.

If the Dark Ritual was completed...
The Archdemon clashed with the allied forces at the city of Denerim and was eventually slain, but at terrible cost. Much of the city lay in ruin. The Warden who rallied the armies was named the Hero of Ferelden and accorded the highest honor.

The Fifth Blight ended before most of Thedas knew it had begun. But it left a terrible wound on Ferelden. The losses suffered at Ostagar and Denerim greatly compromised the security of the kingdom. Southern Ferelden from the Korcari Wilds to the edge of the Bannorn are, to this day, a wasteland. It's uncertain how far the ripples from this event shall travel, or what waves it has already stirred.

—From A Study of the Fifth Blight, by Sister Petrine, Chantry scholar


 Ancient Elven Writing
 Codex entry Ancient Elven Writing
Number: 5 (+1JoH)
Location: Temple of Mythal, revealed by Veilfire or purchased from the book merchant in Val Royeaux.

This elven writing found in the Arbor Wilds is so old there seems to be no way to learn what it means.

There are whispers from the Well of Sorrows. It's impossible to understand the entire text, but certain parts suddenly reveal a shadow of their original meaning.

"His crime is high treason. He took on a form reserved for thegods and their chosen, and dared to fly in the shape of the divine. The sinner belongs to Dirthamen; he claims he took wings at the urging of Ghilan'nain, and begs protection from Mythal. She does not show him favor, and will let Elgar'nan judge him."

For one moment there is an image of a shifting, shadowy mass with blazing eyes, whose form may be one or many. Then it fades.


 Andraste: Bride of the Maker
 Codex entry Andraste: Bride of the Maker
Number: 6 (+1JoH)
Location: Haven chantry, downstairs in the first locked prison cell on the left; if the Herald is not a rogue, Sera can be asked to open the cells once she is recruited.

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 Alamarriwarlord.

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


 Andruil: Goddess of the Hunt
 Codex entry Andruil: Goddess of the Hunt
Number: 7 (+1JoH)
Location: Exalted Plains, In the Crow Fens on a Halla Statue across from Codex entry: Ghilan'nain: Mother of the Halla

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.
—From The Charge of Andruil, Goddess of the Hunt.


 Arlathan: Part One
 Codex entry Arlathan: Part One
Number: 8 (+1JoH)
Location: Knight's Hall in Din'an Hanin in the Emerald Graves

Before the ages were named or numbered, our people were glorious and eternal and never-changing. Like the great oak tree, they were constant in their traditions, strong in their roots, and ever reaching for the sky.

They felt no need to rush when life was endless. They worshiped their gods for months at a time. Decisions came after decades of debate, and an introduction could last for years. From time to time, our ancestors would drift into centuries-long slumber, but this was not death, for we know they wandered the Fade in dreams.

In those ages, our people called all the land Elvhenan, which in the old Elven language means "place of our people." And at the center of the world stood the great city of Arlathan, a place of knowledge and debate, where the best of the ancient elves would go to trade knowledge, greet old friends, and settle disputes that had gone on for millennia.

But while our ancestors were caught up in the forever cycle of ages, drifting through life at what we today would consider an intolerable pace, the world outside the lush forests and ancient trees was changing.

The humans first arrived from Par Vollen to the north. Called shemlen, or "quicklings," by the ancients, the humans were pitiful creatures whose lives blinked by in an instant. When they first met the elves, the humans were brash and warlike, quick to anger and quicker to fight, with no patience for the unhurried pace of elven diplomacy.

But the humans brought worse things than war with them. Our ancestors proved susceptible to human diseases, and for the first time in history, elves died of natural causes. What's more, those elves who spent time bartering and negotiating with humans found themselves aging, tainted by the humans' brash and impatient lives. Many believed that the ancient gods had judged them unworthy of their long lives and cast them down among the quicklings. Our ancestors came to look upon the humans as parasites, which I understand is similar to the way the humans see our people in the cities. The ancient elves immediately moved to close Elvhenan off from the humans, for fear that this quickening effect would crumble the civilization.

—The Fall of Arlathan, as told by Gisharel, keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves


 Arlathan: Part Two
 Codex entry Arlathan: Part Two
Number: 9 (+1JoH)
Location: Hallowed Tombs in Din'an Hanin Upper Crypts in theEmerald Graves

You ask what happened to Arlathan? Sadly, we do not know. Even those of us who keep the ancient lore have no record of what truly happened. What we have are accounts of the days before the fall, and a fable of the whims of the gods.

The human world was changing even as the elves slept. Clans and tribes gave way to a powerful empire called Tevinter, which—and for what reason we do not know—moved to conquer Elvhenan. When they breached the great city of Arlathan, our people, fearful of disease and loss of immortality, chose to flee rather than fight. With magic,demons, and even dragons at their behest, the Tevinter Imperium marched easily through Arlathan, destroying homes and galleries and amphitheaters that had stood for ages. Our people were corralled as slaves, and human contact quickened their veins until every captured elf turned mortal. The elves called to their ancient gods, but there was no answer.

As to why the gods didn't answer, our people left only a legend. They say that Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf and Lord of Tricksters, approached the ancient gods of good and evil and proposed a truce. The gods of good would remove themselves to heaven, and the lords of evil would exile themselves to the abyss, neither group ever again to enter the other's lands. But the gods did not know that Fen'Harel had planned to betray them, and by the time they realized the Dread Wolf's treachery, they were sealed in their respective realms, never again to interact with the mortal world. It is a fable, to be sure, but those elves who travel the Beyond claim that Fen'Harel still roams the world of dreams, keeping watch over the gods lest they escape from their prisons.

Whatever the case, Arlathan had fallen to the very humans our people had once considered mere pests. It is said that the Tevinter magisters used their great destructive power to force the very ground to swallow Arlathan whole, destroying eons of collected knowledge, culture, and art. The whole of elven lore left only to memory.

—The Fall of Arlathan, as told by Gisharel, Keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves


 At What Cost
 Codex entry At What Cost
Number: 11
Location: Frostback Basin - Inside the cave Mouth of Echoes
DLC: Jaws of Hakkon

It still tastes strange. No matter.

Several water-stained pages follow before the text resumes:

Have we traveled through lands more remote than these? We must have. Yet I've never felt so removed from life back home as I do now.

T. makes the same arguments as always, though adds a lack of demons as a point in her favor. Lack isn't absence—which I was quick to point out. She called me pithy. There are demons here, though not as many as we faced in those early years together. The Avvar have their mages too. The last were ill prepared for me. I wonder if that's the part that bothers her?

O., as always, was no help at all.

We push on. My head aches. The others are singing the song we learned at that lakeside town. I forget the name of the place. I think my eyes are about to explode. Of course, A. has noticed and tells the others he needs to read something. It's quiet now. The journey here took longer than expected. I must take stock of the rations. After sleep.

There were more than expected. Everything has been more than expected. A few moments later, and O. would not be standing here. I was able to subdue the mage before things became worse. T. said nothing about it afterwards. She knows O. would have died.

"At what cost?" T. asked me that once. I said it costs nothing, but I don't know. I met a man who'd fought longer than I, but his mind had faded with age, and he could not answer. The point remains that I can do more. I can be more effective. We've all seen the demons, what they did. We've seen what some would do with blood. The better question is, who pays the cost if no one takes this chance?

And no one said it has to be forever. Just until things are settled.

"If you count eight times, will the number change?" O. asks. She's been watching me these last few days, whatever she says to the contrary. *****ed blue bottles. I did not plan this journey as well as I should.

I lay trying to find constellations through the leaves. T. brought me some water. She just smiled, and there was no admonishment behind it. It made me feel somewhat better. As always, A. cooked our dinner while deriding my own ability to produce something edible. O. attempts to tell jokes—Maker, they're pathetic. Why do they make me laugh anyway?

Long days behind. I fear there are fewer ahead. Whatever costs I've paid, they will be worth it. It doesn't matter. This night—safe beside a fire, the three of them singing that stupid song... I am content.


 Champions of the Just
 Codex entry Champions of the Just
Number: 10 (+2JoH)
Location: Unlocked after completingChampions of the Just
Else, sold by Willvan in Val Royeaux for 17

Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow.
In their blood the Maker's will is written.

—Canticle of Benedictions 4:10-11

When Andraste preached these verses, she offered her followers a path of virtue. "In their blood the Maker's will is written" is usually interpreted to mean sacrificing one's life for a righteous cause, but like most of the Chant, deeper meaning hides beneath the surface. "In their blood" can be understood as a reference to continuity, an unbroken line of humble behavior required to please the Maker.

Rather than a physical fight against demon or apostate, Andraste meant this verse as a warning that her faithful should judge their heart's intentions, questioning those who would lead them astray. Champions of the Just are those with the courage to admit their wrongdoing, while letting none continue in their sight.

Unsurprisingly, the Fourth Stanza is popular among militant branches of the Chantry, such as the knights-enchanter and the Templar Order.

—Notes on the Chant of Light, by Mother Bezoria of the Grand Cathedral, 9:39 Dragon


Chronicles of a Forgotten War
 Codex entry Chronicles of a Forgotten War
Number: 13
Location: First part: Bridge at the start of the Forgotten Caverns.
Second part: Ledge after the sabotaged bridge in the Forgotten Caverns.
Third part: Edge overlooking the Bastion of the Pure, east of the area where you unlock Deep Roads Expeditions: Bastion of the Pure Cretahl Hunting.
Fourth part: At the entrance of the tunnel that contains an Arcane Horror and that is at the north-end of the Bastion of the Pure.
Fifth part: In the area unlocked by Deep Roads Expeditions: Bastion of the Pure Excavation
DLC: The Descent

Commander Othon told us to move out. He didn't give details, only that there'd been attacks north of Cad'halash and the Crown was sending reinforcements. Father grabbed our axes, and we were off. I was a boy then, puffed up from a few victories in theProvings. I didn't know what was going to be taken from me. But I would find out.

The journey to Cad'halash was long and tiresome. Bored warriors make poor drunks at camp. Father and I kept to ourselves, though I admit I longed to lose myself in a pint of ale, if only to have something to do other than sharpen my axe.

—From Chronicles of a Forgotten War, author unknown

A day after leaving Cad'halash, we noticed a change. The Deep Roads were practically abandoned. Torches would suddenly go out, leaving us to stumble though the dark and trip over discarded caravans. Then came the attacks, hard and fast.

Father was one of the first. We heard breathing: slow and heavy, from a creature much larger than us. Father held out his arm and grabbed the front of my armor to make me stop. I saw its shadow move, darker than the darkness, and then my body jerked forward. It left Father's arm hanging, still grasping my chestplate.

—From Chronicles of a Forgotten War, author unknown

The Scaled Ones. I can't remember who came up with the name, but it stuck. Drohg had been lighting a torch when one attacked, and we finally caught a glimpse of something other than shadows. In the flame's light, we saw a man's body like those of the Imperium humans, but covered in scales. It wore armor and even had a dagger hanging from its hip. Its jaws wrapped around Drohg's face and twisted. The crunch of his neck breaking seemed to echo down the Deep Roads. The torch fell from his hands, and we lashed out.

I swung my axe will all my might, but it bounced off the Scaled One's armor, the impact ricocheting up my arms. It let out a roar. Then more attacked. From the light of the fallen torch, I guessed there was a score of them, all wearing armor and carrying weapons as sharp as their teeth and talons. The one that killed Drohg barked orders I didn't understand. I kept swinging.

Othon, the best of us, made the first kill by splitting a Scaled One's head open. There was a strange silence as if after an upset in the Proving Grounds, and it hit me that these beasts were not used to seeing one of their own die. Drohg's killer growled and stamped out the torch. The Scaled Ones retreated into darkness.

—From Chronicles of a Forgotten War, author unknown

Our bodies screamed for rest, but Othon pushed forward. Now that he'd seen the enemy, our commander wanted to use the Scaled Ones' tactics against them: go on the offensive. He left guards with the wounded and led the rest of the company to scout ahead for where the Scaled Ones were hiding.

After marching in darkness for days, we finally saw an amber light flickering in the distance. Othon signaled everyone to hold and waved me forward with him. We proceeded slowly, wary of possible guards. Othon nodded toward an overlook. I climbed with bated breath, terrified that the Scaled Ones would hear the echo of my boots scraping against the stone. I felt little relief when we reached the top.

—From Chronicles of a Forgotten War, author unknown

The Scaled Ones had set up a camp at an intersection in the Deep Roads. In the center there was a golden altar fashioned in the shape of fire. A chill swept through me. On the tip of each flame hung the corpses of those we'd lost—including Father and Drohg. They'd been drained of blood, leaving only bone wrapped in grey skin. A robed Scaled One stood before the altar. Its voice was different from the others: softer, almost feminine. It chanted and raised a basin of blood towards the altar. The other Scaled Ones bowed low. The robed Scaled One produced fire from its palm and mouth and ignited the blood.

Othon grabbed my forearm and motioned for us to climb down. We returned to the rest of the company, where he relayed what we had witnessed. We would rest for an hour, regain our strength, and strike.

The memory of Father's sagging, emptied face kept me awake. The hour passed slowly, but it did pass. Othon led us down the path to the overlook. I readied my axe for blood and steeled myself for the sight of the altar. But it wasn't there. The camp, Father and Drohg, the Scaled Ones... all gone. Only the basin remained, charred around the edges.

—From Chronicles of a Forgotten War, author unknown

Dirthamen: Keeper of Secrets
 Codex entry Dirthamen: Keeper of Secrets
Number: 11 (+2JoH, +1TD)
Location: Exalted Plains - the statue at the back of the chamber after the puzzle room in TheDead Hand

The twins Falon'Din and Dirthamen are the eldest children ofElgar'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 'til 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 spiritwas 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 Dalishelves


 Dwarven Inscriptions: Hissing Wastes
 Codex entry Dwarven Inscriptions: Hissing Wastes
Number: 12 (+2JoH, +1TD)
Location: Hissing Wastes, dwarven tombs

The sun burned above oceans of sand,
but in the sand was Stone, strong and true.
Fairel hewed the Stone, and built—as great as any thaig in thedeep.
And with his sons' help, he ensured the thaig prospered and grew.

Fairel, Paragon, fled from the strife his brilliance created,
the strife that destroyed thaigs, sundered houses, from weapons that clan used against clan.
His own clan and his two sons followed Fairel to the pitiless surface,
the surface where they would hide from the war that took their home.

After many years Fairel, greatest of Paragons, could not bear life's burden.
And with the burden growing, he called his sons to his bedside.
He bade each son swear he would take care of his brother,
and the brothers swore, and mourned when their father returned to the Stone.

Fairel's sons built monuments to their father, locking away his great works,
and worked together, for a time, side by side. Each ruled half the thaig,
but each ruled differently. They argued, and heated words made the brothers duel,
And where one brother fell, the other raised bloodied axe in hand, alone.

This is the tale of Fairel, Paragon among Paragons, father of two sons,
who, against their father's wishes, fought from foolish words and foolish pride.
For pride these halls were made—to honor a father's deeds, and grieve his loss.
And for loss these halls were made, to honor a brother mourned.

A father taken by time, a brother dead by my own hand.
With this work behold my grief, in Stone and shifting sand.

 Elgar'nan: God of Vengeance
 Codex entry Elgar'nan: God of Vengeance
Number: 13 (+2JoH, +1TD)

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

 Emperor Florian
 Codex entry Emperor Florian
Number: 14 (+2JoH, +1TD)
Location: Val Royeaux: Main Level - NW corner, on a table

Grand Duke Florian was not supposed to ascend to the Orlesian throne. His elder brother, Emperor Judicael II, had two twin sons and thus a very secure line. Florian was free to pursue other interests, none of which revolved around the Game. Indeed, the Imperial Court largely ignored him, and that was how he liked it. All that was recorded of that era is that he married, produced a single daughter, and afterwards showed little interest in her.

An outbreak of the Hundred Days Cough in 8:77 Blessed changed his plans. Both of Judicael's sons perished, as did Florian's daughter. Wracked by grief, Judicael lost interest in ruling, turning over all matters pertaining to the rebellion in Ferelden to his advisors and instead spending his time hunting in the country. When Judicael was thrown from his horse during a fox hunt in 8:84 Blessed, Florian was suddenly vaulted into the throne. Famously, his response to the chevaliers delivering the news at his estate is said to be, “This will not do at all.”

A private and somewhat eccentric man, Florian limited his appearances at court and dealt almost exclusively with members of his own family. He was extremely particular about his habits of dress and grooming, eschewing current fashion for the sake of comfort and refusing to wear cosmetics or powders of any kind due to an intense dislike of being "dirty." Powerful and connected nobles who had served in the cabinet since his father's time were turned away in favor of his younger brother, Reynaud; his sister, Melisande; and his cousins. Children were banned from the palace, even the children of servants, with the exceptions of his nephew and nieces, who were tolerated only on the condition that they remain out of the emperor's sight.

Regarding suggestions that Florian and his youngest cousin, Meghren, were lovers, the truth is uncertain. If such a relationship existed, it was no doubt kept private due to Florian's aversion to public life and not from any fear of rumors. Such rumors, after all, were likely spread due to the emperor's refusal to sire another child and thus secure his line—many believed this failing would eventually lead to civil war. The only real evidence of a relationship with Meghren is a loud and very public argument the two had prior to Meghren's appointment (or exile, as he saw it) to the throne of Ferelden. Meghren is said to have called Florian "my darling," and neither man chose to explain the argument later.

The predictions of civil war almost came to pass upon Florian's death in 9:19 Dragon. With no clear heir, the throne eventually passed to the only daughter of Grand Duke Reynaud, Celene, after a vicious struggle that threatened to consume the empire.

—From The Emperors of Orlais, by Brother Harlon Ascari

Falon'Din: Friend of the Dead, the Guide
 Codex entry Falon'Din: Friend of the Dead, the Guide
Number: 15 (+2JoH, +1TD)
Location: Located in Dead Hand on the Exalted plains

"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 withFalon'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 Beyondand 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.


Fen'Harel: The Dread Wolf 
Codex entry Fen'Harel: The Dread Wolf
Number: 16 (+2JoH, +1TD)

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 that 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 Arlathan, 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 Fen'Harel sealed them away so they could never again walk among the People.

—From The Tale of Fen'Harel's Triumph, as told by Gisharel, Keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves


From the Canticle of Threnodies
 Codex entry From the Canticle of Threnodies
Number: 17 (+2JoH, +1TD)
Location: Inside Chateau d'Onterre inEmerald Graves

An illuminated copy of the Chant of Light. A few of the passages have been bookmarked:

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
—Canticle of Threnodies 8:2-3


 From the Canticle of Transfigurations
 Codex entry From the Canticle of Transfigurations
Number: 18 (+2JoH, +1TD)
Location: Apostate's Landing, Storm Coast - in an abandoned camp under a large rock just south-west of the southern-most astrarium

Many are those who wander in sin,
Despairing that they are lost forever,
But the one who repents, who has faith
Unshaken by the darkness of the world,
And boasts not, nor gloats
Over the misfortunes of the weak, but takes delight
In the Maker's law and creations, she shall know
The peace of the Maker's benediction.
—Canticle of Transfigurations 10:1


 Ghilan'nain: Mother of the Halla
 Codex entry Ghilan'nain: Mother of the Halla
Number: 19 (+2JoH, +1TD)
Location: Exalted Plains - a hallastatue on the left side of the path going into the Crow Fens

They say Ghilan'nain was one of the People, in the days beforeArlathan, 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.


 Hargrave Keep
 Codex entry Hargrave Keep
Number: 20 (+2JoH, +1TD)
Location: Fallow Mire - Inside the locked room in Hargrave Keep

In 6:52 Storm, Bann Hargrave's knights helped drive Avvarinvaders from Ferelden's lowlands. When the king asked Hargrave to pursue the retreating tribes, she refused, demanding funds to build a keep. Caught between a fractured court, Hargrave's knights, and an impending famine, the king reluctantly granted her a large parcel of land to the south.

After defeating the Avvar regrouping in the boglands, the bann built her castle. As the famine grew worse, the wisdom behind her choice of location became clear: Hargrave Keep ate well, dining on a steady supply of fish and game while the farmlands starved.

Hargrave's line died out fighting Orlesian invaders during the Blessed Age. Only the village at the base of the keep remains inhabited as the keep has fallen into disrepair.

—From Notable Fortresses, Castles, Towers and Other Edifices of Interest in Ferelden, by Henry Lannon


Illustrated Periodical
 Codex entry Illustrated Periodical
Number: 24
Location: Found on a table in theAbandoned Chateau, to the right of the lootable chest, behind an overturned table.
DLC: Trespasser

Chevaliers serving Duke Eneas will now carry shields with dovetailed dividing lines, instead of their previous flory.

Lord Fortier of House Aigle will join in union with Lady Vauclain of House Souris. A full-faced mask in the Montsimmardian crimpled style, containing two colors from each noble line's Heraldry, may now be worn by first and second cousins of either household.

Lady Wesmith of Denerim will join in union with Lord Pierre of the House Veneur. A half-faced domino mask, black with white trim, rubies, pearls, or opals, may now be worn by Lady Wesmith's direct relations.

—From A Panoply of Faces: An Illustrated Official Listing of Heraldry and Masks within the Blessed Empire ofOrlais, issued quarterly


Inquisitor Ameridan
 Codex entry Inquisitor Ameridan
Number: 23 (+1TD, +1T)
Location: Frostback Basin - inside ofProfessor Kenric's research outpost at the Basin Floor Camp
DLC: Jaws of Hakkon

What is known about Inquisitor Ameridan would barely fill a page. He was a friend of Emperor Drakon. He was Inquisitor when theSeekers of Truth folded themselves into the Chantry as part of the Nevarran Accord, their Order serving as precursor to the Order of Templars and the Circle of Magi. Shortly after the accord was signed, between 1:22 and 1:24 Divine, Ameridan left his position and departed, never to be seen again.

These facts alone are undisputed. Everything else is uncorroborated hearsay, broad speculation, or salacious rumormongering:

—Ameridan did not willingly cede power. Drakon forced the Seekers of Truth to disband upon pain of death, then removed the Inquisitor rather than suffer rebellion in the new Chantry's ranks.

—Ameridan was forced to retire due to the still-young Chantry's restrictions requiring celibacy, as he was involved in a relationship with a mysterious "lady-mage" that the Chantry erased from history.

—Ameridan was a rowdy noble who cared more for raucous entertainment than for the Seekers. He held the position only because Drakon wanted a loyal friend commanding the Order, and when the Seekers became part of the Chantry, Ameridan was free to retire to a life of hunting dragons and wenching.

Any of these stories may be true, and without more evidence, we have little hope of ever reaching a clear determination. Nevertheless, I would offer a few notes that are often overlooked as scholars delve so deeply into their own historical specialties as to lose key context:

Firstly, Emperor Drakon, rightly acknowledged as the man who molded the Chantry into the organization it is today, was a pious man, committed to spreading the Chant of Light and creating a world where magic and men were governed by Andrastian principles. All sources agree that Ameridan was a close friend of Drakon, and while it is certainly possible that Ameridan was more pragmatic than pious, it is highly unlikely that Drakon would have befriended a figure who was actively opposed to the Chantry, much less tolerated such a man holding a position of power in the growing Orlesian Empire.

Secondly, Inquisitor Ameridan was universally acclaimed as a powerful combatant, regardless of his supposed faith (or lack thereof). Rumormongers suggesting Ameridan was exiled ask us to believe that Emperor Drakon could see no use for a powerful warrior with years of command experience. Given that the Second Blight had been a fact of Orlesian life for more than 15 years at the time of Ameridan's disappearance, with darkspawn pouring from the Anderfels into northern Orlais in growing numbers, it is frankly absurd to suggest Drakon would casually dispose of such a military asset.

Without further evidence, we may never know more about Ameridan's departure. Nevertheless, I hope that we may eschew the currently popular cynicism, at least when obvious evidence against it is presented, to see that his disappearance must have had some other cause.

—From Finding Ameridan by Professor Bram Kenric (Starkhaven University Press)


 June: God of the Craft 
Codex entry June: God of the Craft
Number: 21 (+3JoH, +1TD, +1T)
Location: Temple of Mythal

We dedicate all our crafts to June, for it is he who taught thePeople 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


 Mad Emperor Reville
 Codex entry Mad Emperor Reville
Number: 22 (+3JoH, +2TD, +1T)
Location: Winter Palace - Grand Apartments

Modern history often forgets that "Mad Emperor Reville" was, at first, celebrated as a military genius. Despite the warnings of his twin brother, Gratien (younger by a mere hour), he committedOrlais to an invasion of Ferelden—an invasion that proved wildly successful. In the breadth of one campaign, Reville had expanded the reach of the empire across all of southern Thedas and allowed the court to dream of achieving even greater heights. The victory came at a cost, however, and when Gratien's prediction of war with an opportunistic Nevarra proved true, the Orlesian chevaliers met spectacular defeat. Everything we know of history states that Grand Duke Gratien had nothing but his brother's best interests at heart. The man was a kind soul, much in love with his wife and many children, and—according to all letters recovered—vastly relieved not to be burdened with the throne.

Reville, however, went from reveling in the approval of his court to being the butt of jokes and the target of whispers. He was surrounded by courtiers who said his brother was behind this criticism, and as rebellion in occupied Ferelden began, things grew worse. There was open talk of placing Gratien on the throne. When Marquise Yvette, Reville's mother and a calming influence, died and threw him into mourning, he snapped. Reville ordered the assassination of Gratien and his entire family at their estate of Sablissent on the Feast of Ascension. Gratien, his wife, their three grown children and eight grandchildren—the youngest, Camille, only eight months old—all slaughtered and thrown into a mass grave, their bodies burned.

The brutal slaughter sent a chill through the Imperial Court, as even the emperor's own children feared to speak out against him. He became increasingly paranoid and began wearing armor every time he left his rooms. His health began to decline, but he refused to allow physicians of any kind into the palace. By 8:50Blessed, Reville refused to leave his rooms at all. His paranoia had grown so great that only a single cook was permitted to prepare his food, and only under the supervision of ten chevaliers. He no longer ate anything but venison, and his health, unsurprisingly, was poor. In 8:51 Blessed, Emperor Reville finally died, and upon entering his rooms, his sons found that he had boarded up the windows and surrounded his bed with rows upon rows of daggers.

—From The Emperors of Orlais by Brother Harlon Ascari


Memorials of the Second Exalted March
 Codex entry Memorials of the Second Exalted March
Number: 23 (+3JoH, +2TD, +1T)
Location: Four white memorials, seeLandmarks on the Plains

The Path of Flame
Remember where Andraste's Champions first set foot in theExalted Plains, called Dirthavaren by the elves.

Halamshiral's dark heart was conquered, but one last challenge came from the elves, who would not submit to the Maker. They gathered upon the plain; our Champions answered their call. Marching in Andraste's Light, on the Path of Flame: Lord Demetrius Aron, Sister Amity, and Ser Brandis of Lac Celestine, called the Silver Helm.

Demetrius's End
Remember Lord Demetrius Aron, the only one of Andraste's Champions to fall.

The forces of the Exalted March met the elves upon the field; our numbers far exceeded theirs. The Champions, kind and fair, gave the elves a chance for peace, but the elves would not lay down their arms. They slew Lord Demetrius in their charge. Maker take him to His side.

Lindiranae's Fall
Remember the victory of the Dales.

The elves were murderous and wild, for the Maker's grace did not touch them. The wildest of them was the she-elf Lindiranae, wielder of the great blade Evanura. Defiant to the last, she met Ser Brandis, the Silver Helm, in single combat, and he bested her. With Lindiranae fell the Dales.

Triumph of the Light
Remember the triumph over the profane.

Sister Amity led the march to the river Tenasir, where stood shrines to the elven gods. These she struck down; standing upon the banks, she sang the Chant of Light. Andraste's Word had come to the Dales, and delivered them from wickedness.


 Mythal: the Great Protector
 Codex entry Mythal: the Great Protector
Number: 24 (+3JoH, +2TD, +1T)
Location: A book on the ground in theDalish clan found in theExalted Plains

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


Not of Heroes: Division and Distance
 Codex entry Not of Heroes: Division and Distance
 Number: 25 (+3JoH, +2TD, +1T)
Location: Val Royeaux - Mid level SW at end of walkway on the right

For a supposed creature of jealousy and greed, Maferath is less so in deed. For while his word brought low the Bride of the Maker, his prize was quickly divided and distanced. Let us consider the lesser of the sons in this matter.

Of Evrion, we know little. The middle boy, he was tasked with ruling the lands to be the Marches. No claim by the father was made, no "in my name" to humble. And that freedom is shown in the result, for Evrion himself was the least concerned with power. He among all led by example, not demand, and spoke only of sacrifice. When betrayal was revealed, Evrion acts as a man broken, dispersing his holdings to the various tribes. It was a penance that spared him his family, but it also dispersed influence. To this day, the Free Marches are scattered.

Of Verald, more is known, for his actions bring him to the start of our nation. But his folly begins in Nevarra, where we must ask: was this the will of a betrayer father, or a mistake of youth?

Maferath gave rule to the youngest, Verald, and never claimed Nevarra. Never did he sit on the throne, and he is thought to have rarely visited. But his name is hated there most of all, for it was bartered for legacy by the son. Unlike Evrion, Verald spoke not as example but to claim. Never his name was mentioned without that of his mother and father. His claims were bold—their actions were his, and their thoughts all shared. But from the father on his throne in Ferelden, no word is recorded. And we wonder: was it deliberate?

For when the betrayal was revealed, all with ties to Maferath were vilified. And so strong were the ties that Verald had drawn, that his court was killed to a man, and he was forced to flee. Had he kept silent, as seems the will of the knowing father, and had he girded as the father had guided the elder, Isorath, then Verald might have remained to rule.

But that would require that the betrayer not be as he is drawn. And it would have kept Verald in Nevarra. And it would have kept Verald from Orlais. And it would have prevented the further betrayal that truly birthed Orlais.

—Excerpted from A History Not of Heroes: Readings in the Ugly Heart of Change, collected by Philliam, a Bard!


 Not of Heroes: Maferath and Sacrifice
 Codex entry Not of Heroes: Maferath and Sacrifice
Number: 26 (+3JoH, +2TD, +1T)
Location: Val Royeaux Main Level - on a table in the café

Andraste, Our Lady, the sword and the fire against Tevinter. Betrayed to the empire in exchange for a kingdom. Maferath, now synonymous with treachery. But would Andraste have won, and if not, what would we have lost? Let us look not just at the act, but at the why of it.

As the armies of faith pierced the imperial homeland, it was revealed not as a wave but as an arrow. And as any hunter will attest, if your aim is not true, there is no returning to the bow. We must consider: how much of Our Lady's victory to this point was against true Imperium, and how much was against the echoes of empire? Andraste the inspiration may not have considered such. But Maferath the general fought for homeland, not visions. Was it victory or defeat that his betrayal held at bay?

Maferath made the deal that killed Our Lady. That is fact. And when Andraste died, Maferath was gifted everything from the southern plains south. How generous, and impossible to hold, this must have seemed. Let us look on Maferath and the legacy he divided among his sons not with eye for accusation, but from a tactical consideration. For he must have known that mere rivals had never stopped Tevinter. What if he set about creating peers, and none of this was accident?

How then fared Isorath, Evrion, and Verald?

—Excerpted from A History Not of Heroes: Readings in the Ugly Heart of Change, collected by Philliam, a Bard!

Not of Heroes: The Death of Diversity
 Codex entry Not of Heroes: The Death of Diversity
Number: 27 (+3JoH, +2TD, +1T)
Location: Val Royeaux: Main Level - on a bench in the small southern courtyard

What could hold back an empire? Another. What could hold back so defined a people as Tevinter? Another. Let us consider if eldest Isorath was not meant to honor Maferath, for the father's fate was already condemned by hidden betrayal. Let us consider that Isorath was told to turn from ties to Maferath, to look forward, not back. What of his actions then?

Isorath was granted a land of tribes, of scattered alliance. His answer was the grand unification, which most condemn as arrogance. Sweeping changes in trade, relocations to break local allegiances, all to favor centralized trade and power. Cities were leveled to expand a new capital, a powerful and influential city of a new nation: Val Royeaux of Orlais. And all in the name of not lost Andraste, but of holding back looming Tevinter.

Power was united, but cultures less so. Investing everyone in the new Orlais stratified the classes, and through it all spread a bitterness that a Fereldan ruled. Isorath avoided the stain of his father, for he was seen as victim, too, but he was still Alamarri. What if, dear readers, the final unifying element came not from accident, or even the deliberate actions of Isorath, but from a common hatred, and not the common hatred of the day? The sons of Maferath would succeed at creating a peer for Tevinter, but only at the cost of themselves.

—Excerpted from A History Not of Heroes: Readings in the Ugly Heart of Change, collected by Philliam, a Bard!


Not of Heroes: United in Hatred
 Codex entry Not of Heroes: United in Hatred
Number: 28 (+3JoH, +2TD, +1T)
Location: Val Royeaux: Main Level - on a barrel next to the northern merchants

If we are reexamining motive, let us not stop at the sons of the betrayer. For the first leader of young Orlais after the sons wasJeshavis, chattel wife of two of them. But examine the facts.

A proud daughter of the Cirean, chosen not unkindly by Isorath to be his bride. It was her reach that granted him power to unify. Consider what she witnessed in the consolidation of her people. She has always been portrayed with sadness, but what if when our nation was born, the Game was born with it? Judge her actions not as property but as master, and what changes?

As victim—Isorath, rumored cruel, breaks the clans in a lust for power. His brother, Verald, exile from his own machinations in young Nevarra, appeals to the saddened wife and promises a new path. The brothers vie, and Verald wins and then demands the hand of Jeshavis. Another Fereldan greedy for power. In a decade, the shy victim Jeshavis is the figurehead of the people's rebellion against the last son of the betrayer.

As master—bound to rivalries far older, she harbors a hatred beyond Tevinter. And while Isorath is distracted (with personal concern or with building a nation to withstand his own people's enemy?), she invites the broken brother and sets him against the driven. While accepting marriage to the victor, Jeshavis seeds rebellion among those who remember how their lands were taken not a generation before.

Both leave her as ruler, as gjǒya. But should not the rule of a victim been uncertain? Jeshavis rules for forty-two years. There were no great swings backward, no people's retribution. For she had become accustomed.

If the goals of Isorath were selfish and the goal of Jeshavis was to reverse them, then Orlais is born of the failure of both. But if Isorath built his father's wall and Jeshavis wanted revenge, then we are a nation of two successes. Two parents, in opposition but in partnership.

—Excerpted from A History Not of Heroes: Readings in the Ugly Heart of Change, collected by Philliam, a Bard!


Old Chantry Trail Signs
 Codex entry Old Chantry Trail Signs
Number: 29 (+3JoH, +2TD, +1T)
Location: Western Approach

The Chantry used these symbols long ago to mark trails to hidden locations. They are often mistaken by passersby as simple carvings in the rock and trees.

Old Elven Writing
Codex entry Old Elven Writing
Number: 30 (+3JoH, +2TD, +1T)
Location: Temple of Mythal, revealed by Veilfire or purchased from the book merchant in Val Royeaux

This elven writing found in the Arbor Wilds is so old as to be incomprehensible.

There are whispers from the Well of Sorrows. It's impossible to understand the entire text, but certain parts suddenly reveal a shadow of their original meaning.

"In this place we prepare to hunt the pillars of the earth. Their workers scurry, witless, soulless. This death will be a mercy. We will make the earth blossom with their passing."

For one moment there is a vivid image of two overlapping spheres; unknown flowers bloom inside their centers. Then it fades.


 Orlesian Caprice Coins
 Codex entry Orlesian Caprice Coins
Number: 31 (+3JoH, +2TD, +1T)
Location: Winter Palace - after finding a Caprice Coin.

Victory in the Grand Game is not merely determined by what one has at one's command, one's connections, and one's machinations, but what one is willing to give up.

The clearest example is the Caprice: each coin is traditionally a gift. They were once tokens of regard, favors for chevaliers from their lovers or patrons. Throwing them into a fountain was rooted in superstition: the token was offered as a sacrifice, a bribe to Andraste to keep the chevalier safe on the battlefield. The more one had to offer to the waters, the better one's chances of escaping the caprices of fate—hence the name. Over time, the superstitious aspects of the custom faded; now the Caprice is a mark of status. The more coins one has, the more public the spectacle of throwing them away: the stronger one's position in the Game.

—From The Dowager's Field Guide to Good Society by Lady Alcyone


 Par Vollen: The Occupied North
 Codex entry Par Vollen: The Occupied North
Number: 32 (+3JoH, +2TD, +1T)
Location: Storm Coast: Apostate's Landing - same cabin for the quest A Glowing Key

In the 30th year of the Steel Age, the first Qunari ships were sighted off the coast of Par Vollen in the far north, marking the beginning of a new age of warfare.

History calls this the First Qunari War, but it was mostly a one-sided bloodbath, with the Qunari advancing far into the mainland. Qunari warriors in glittering steel armor carved through armies with ease. Their cannons, the likes of which our ancestors had never seen, reduced city walls to rubble in a matter of seconds.

Stories of Qunari occupation vary greatly. It is said they dismantled families and sent captives to "learning camps" for indoctrination into their religion. Those who refused to cooperate disappeared to mines or construction camps.

For every tale of suffering, however, there is another of enlightenment deriving from something called the "Qun." This is either a philosophical code or a written text that governs all aspects of Qunari life, perhaps both. One converted Seheran reported pity for those who refused to embrace the Qun, as if the conquerors had led him to a sort of self-discovery. "For all my life, I followed the Maker wherever his path led me," he wrote, "but in the Qun I have found the means to travel my own path."

It has been said that the most complete way to wipe out a people is not with blades but with books. Thankfully, a world that had repelled four Blights would not easily bow to a foreign aggressor. And so the Exalted Marchesbegan.

The greatest advantage of the Chantry-led forces was the Circle of Magi. For all their technology, the Qunari appeared to harbor great hatred for magic. Faced with cannons, the Chantry responded with lightning and balls of fire.

The Qunari armies lacked the sheer numbers of humanity. So many were slain at Marnas Pell, on both sides, that the Veil is said to be permanently sundered, the ruins still plagued by restless corpses. But each year, the Chantry pushed further and further into the Qunari lines, although local converts to the Qun proved difficult to return to Andraste's teachings.

By the end of the Storm Age, the Qunari were truly pushed back. Rivain was the only human land that retained the Qunari religion after being freed, and its rulers attempted to barter a peace. Most human lands signed the Llomerryn Accord, excepting the Tevinter Imperium. It is a shaky peace that has lasted to this day.

—From The Exalted Marches: An Examination of Chantry Warfare, by Sister Petrine, Chantry scholar


 Queen Asha of Antiva
 Codex entry Queen Asha of Antiva
Number: 33 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: Hinterlands: Winterwatch Tower - SE tower of castle, on a table

There are those who believe the tale that Antiva owes its independence to the looming threat of the Crows. Yet this story—largely spread by the Crows themselves—is no more credible than the promises of a market-stall huckster. For the truth of the matter, we look instead to the Palace of the Kings in Antiva City. A grand statue of a woman in Rivaini royal garb towers over the entrance, her watchful eyes keeping sight of everything happening within those walls: Asha Subira Bahadur Campana, Queen Mother of Thedas.

When the matriarchs of Rivain arranged the marriage of Princess Asha of Ayesleigh to King Alonzo Campana of Antiva, it went unnoticed and unremarked by their contemporaries; the eyes of Thedas were on the wars ofOrlais and Nevarra. The marriage of a minor princess of Rivain to an almost powerless king was beneath their consideration. Yet this wedding was, in retrospect, perhaps the most important event in Thedas's history since the blackening of the Golden City.

Queen Asha was a skilled tactician; seeing the military ambitions of Tevinter, Nevarra, and Orlais, she concocted a plan. Antiva was too prosperous to escape its neighbors' avarice, yet had no means of raising an army capable of fending off both Tevinter and Orlais without impoverishing the kingdom. If she was to safeguard her people, it must be through measures stronger than steel.

The queen spent decades making alliances in the ancient Rivaini way: marriage. She wed her many children and grandchildren strategically into nobles houses across the continent. Within thirty years, Antiva was so well-connected that any hostile action against it would force half the nations of Thedas into war.

The blood of Queen Asha runs in the veins of the Empress of Orlais, the Prince of Starkhaven, the King of Nevarra, and seven of the Dukes of the Anderfels; even some magisters of the Tevinter Imperium have ties to the Antivan royal family. Asha's web of blood ties forces most of the continent to remain at peace with Antiva, or risk terrible consequences at family dinners.

—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi


 Ritual Tower
Codex entry Ritual Tower
Number: 34 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: Landmark in the Western Approach south of the Craggy Ridge Camp, west of the Nazaire's Pass Camp and south-west of the Oasis Cave

Many Tevinter structures litter the wastelands of southwesternOrlais. In the age before the First Blight, the Imperium expanded through the South at an incredible rate, and the lands farthest from Minrathous became home to a great many sites dedicated to magical experimentation, taking advantage of natural weaknesses in the Veil as well as the distance from the Archon's oversight to try ever more dangerous fields of study. As withAeonar in Ferelden, the laboratories of Orlais were set upon by the followers of Andraste during the uprising, and little remains of them now save crumbled stone.

—An excerpt from Empire and Imperium by Sister Petrine, Chantry scholar


 Siege Equipment in Thedas
 Codex entry Siege Equipment in Thedas
Number: 35 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: Haven - near the catapults

Siege weaponry has been used in Thedas for centuries, with primitive equipment used as far back as the Third Blight. Nevertheless, it occupies a peculiar niche in the tools of warfare due to its requirements. Any army wishing to produce trebuchets or catapults must be funded and organized well enough to procure both the necessary materials and the military experts to construct them. Throughout history, most armies who fulfilled such requirements did not take advantage of such situation. During the Third Blight, for example, Arlesans and Montsimmard constructed catapults to fling flaming debris at the darkspawn, but the expense of the weapons did not justify the limited damage they caused, and the darkspawn were ultimately driven back by the Grey Wardens, not siege weaponry.

Tevinter forces similarly had the resources to construct siege weapons when attacking the Free Marchers or defending themselves against the Exalted Marches of the Black Age. Instead, the Imperium focused primarily upon the power of its magisters, who were less powerful but more flexible than siege equipment, and who could more easily fall back when the tide of battle turned.

As a result, in the battles against the Qunari in the Steel Age, generals found to their chagrin that the great oxmen had left them behind. Qunari blackpowder is, most military experts agree, not magic—it is merely an advanced alchemy that makes their cannons more effective than any trebuchet could ever be.

Nevertheless, there remains hope. As centuries have passed since the last Blight, and mages are now safely held in the Circles where they harm none, the experts of Ferelden and Orlais may once again turn their great minds to learning. We need no magic, not where the minds of men survive unfettered. With our resources and commitment to knowledge, we can easily surpass the brutal Qunari on the field of battle.

—From Qun, Gurns and Steel: Military Conflict in a Post-Blight Thedas, written 9:29 Dragon, shortly before the start of the Fifth Blight

Superstitions of the Royal Family
 Codex entry Superstitions of the Royal Family
Number: 36 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: Winter Palace - after finding a Halla statuette

The Valmont family has its quirks. Every family does. But the Valmonts lean particularly toward the occult. Emperor Reville the Mad believed in ghosts; he was certain that his mother continued to advise him after her death, and that the angry shade of his twin brother sought his downfall. He employed the services of soothsayers to convey messages from beyond the grave and to stave off his slain brother's wrath.

His son, Emperor Judicael I, had a fascination for all things ancient and arcane. It is said that his desire to reconstruct the palace of Halamshiral—after an elven uprising destroyed it—was due more to his interest in the site itself than in politics or the Game. They say he chose to spend the winter months at this family retreat because he believed the palace was located at a nexus of elven magic, that spending time there would grant him longer life as with the fabled immortal elves. In the end, the palace did not prevent his death due to heart failure.

His youngest son, Prince Reynaud, has a similar interest in elves and the Dales. He collected carvings of halla—the Dalish beasts of burden sacred to one of their false gods. The statuettes—all the work of Dalish artisans during the Long Walk—were kept in his room in the Winter Palace. When his daughter ascended to the throne, she had them repurposed as keys. But why? And for what? No one can know.

—An excerpt from Architectural History of Orlais, Volume 1 by Elodie Ferrneau


 Sylaise: the Hearthkeeper
 Codex entry Sylaise: the Hearthkeeper
Number: 37 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: Exalted Plains, stone tablet inside the Shrine to Sylaise

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


 The Colossus of Orlais
 Codex entry The Colossus of Orlais
Number: 38 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: The landmark near the Statue Tomb northeast of Statue camp in Hissing Wastes

Emperor Florian, in addition to being notoriously reclusive, was not fond of his own visage. Orlesian emperors and empresses are traditionally immortalized in gilded marble. Florian, forced to commission something, instead chose a red sandstone found only in the Hissing Wastes. He demanded his likeness be carved there - away from where he could see it.

When presented with an official proposal, the emperor idly drew on the paper, adding circles around the royal crest, the statue's eyes, and the dimensions and cost of the project. Florian's signature turned it into an official court document, and he refused to entertain more modest proposals hastily drafted and sent to his chambers, as he considered the matter "over and done with at last." Thus the Colossus of Orlais was born.

Dozens of sculptors, hundreds of miners, and three highly-paid surveyors selected a suitably stable hill in the Wastes to begin carving. A year into the project, workers uncovered an old dwarven ruin near the base of the statue. Believing this to be a sign that the ground was sturdy, the grand work continued—until Florian's death, when Empress Celene took the throne and ordered work on the costly effigy immediately cease. "We must give our subjects working on this noble project time to mourn," she said.

Strangely, Empress Celene never ordered work on the Colossus of Orlais to resume, nor offered a plan to transport it out of the Wastes.

—From An Illumination of the Art and Artifacts of the Imperial Court of Orlais, by Lady Simone Therese Germaine


 The Conclave
 Codex entry The Conclave
Number: 39 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: Frostback Mountains - automatically obtained upon gaining control of character.

It has been a year of little more than chaos. Yes, the mages voted to dissolve the Circle of Magi—but I will point out: this vote came only after increased restrictions were placed on them following the unfortunate events in Kirkwall. What other choice did they have? Yes, the Templar Order abandoned their duties and elected to pursue the mages to bring them back in line—but after a thousand years in which their sole role was the mages' keepers, what else could one expect? They envisioned the war over quickly; a single battle that would see the mages' resolve crumble, after which they would meekly return to confinement. That did not happen. This conflict could drag on forever, with advantage on neither side. Both templars and mages see this, and thus they have agreed to come to the Conclave.

This is our chance. Words need to be said which have not been said; a compromise must be reached because there is no other choice. I believe this with all my heart. I am not without fault in all this; perhaps I pushed too hard for reform, or not hard enough. The Maker has seen fit to give me another chance; I will not squander it. The Temple of Sacred Ashes is where together we will make history, and with luck we will be remembered kindly for it.

—From the journals of Divine Justinia V, Dragon 9:41


 The Dales: A Promise Lost
 Codex entry The Dales: A Promise Lost
Number: 40 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: Obtained automatically upon first entering the Exalted Plains

There, see the Winter Palace at Halamshiral. Gaze upon its white walls and golden spires, built on the broken dreams of a people.Our people.

The human prophet Andraste was a slave in the Tevinter Imperium, as our ancestors were. When she rose up against them, we rose up with her. Together we fought for freedom. In gratitude and kinship, Andraste promised the elves a new land: the Dales. And although she died, her sons kept her promise.

Our people came from farthest Tevinter to claim this new land. Here, our journey ended. This was our Halamshiral. As we laid the first stone for the city, our people vowed that no human would ever set foot on our lands. The greatest of our warriors swore to uphold this vow. One by one they came, invoking the names ofElgar'nan and Mythal, Andruil and Ghilan'nain. Before all our gods, they dedicated themselves to Halamshiral, becoming our protectors, our Emerald Knights. They would ensure that the Dales remained free.

It was free. For over three centuries. But the humans and their new Andrastian Chantry would not let us be. They pushed against our borders. They sent missionaries to spread the word of their prophet. They sought ways to subjugate the People once more. When we refused, we angered them.

They destroyed us. Even the Emerald Knights could not stand against the might of their army, armored in faith. In the name of their Andraste, they burned Halamshiral, scattering us to the winds. They forgot that once, long ago, Andraste's followers and the elves marched together. They forgot that Andraste called Shartan "brother."

—A Promise Lost, as told by Keeper Gisharel to the young hunters of the Ralaferin clan on the outskirts of Halamshiral


The Emerald Knights
 Codex entry The Emerald Knights
Number: 41 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: Din'An Hanin (Emerald Graves)

Cry for the past—only there does glory dwell.
For here, the bow was strung, the sword bequeathed, the vows sworn.
So glory was born within the hearts of elves.

Sing for the past—where rests those who came before.
For each knight, a seed was sown, roots twisting with their brothers and sisters.
So the forest grew, a reflection of our might.

Mourn for the past—and all that was left there.
For we trusted in dreams and perceived immortality. We trusted in promises and in hope.
So we dreamed in vain, for we lost these gifts long ago.

Curse the past—the place where lies were born.
For beneath their sun, our people fall. The lands their lady once bestowed now stolen in her name.
So when these words are read, we shall be gone.

Forget not the past—it is all that remains.
For each knight, a seed was sown, roots twisting with their brothers and sisters.
So the forest remains, a reflection of our sorrow.

Cry for the past—it shall claim us all.
For here rest our saviors newly slain. Others lie beyond our reach.
So we remember.

Let the true name burn away and enter Din'an Hanin, the place where glory ends.

Andrale, Whose Song Inspired
Soran, With Bow in Hand
Siona, Who Kept the Bridge

Talim, Who Saved the Child
Rin, Who Led Them Out
Ilan, Who Kept Watch

Elandrin, Whom We Betrayed
A blank space follows the names, as if more were to be carved.


The Exalted March of the Dales
 Codex entry The Exalted March of the Dales
Number: 42 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: Emerald Graves, inside Villa Maurel

The Chantry's story of the Exalted March of the Dales paints the picture of the righteous faithful arrayed against heathen savages. But I have long studied the Dales, and I find the "acceptable" version of the tale to be a poor one, laden with overt pro-Chantry and pro-human biases. Thus it is my moral imperative to propose an alternate interpretation: that the Exalted March of the Dales was nothing more than an expansionist ploy hiding behind the mask of faith.

It is easy to see on any map how large the Dales are. More importantly, they stand between Orlais and the rest of the south and would likely have represented a significant obstacle to the empire's expansion into Ferelden. Naturally, we stood to benefit from propagating the narrative of a hostile, unreasoning people attacking innocent missionaries and making blood sacrifices of good Andrastian babies. The likely truth is that the elvesmerely wished to maintain sovereignty over lands promised to them by Blessed Andraste herself, when the humans showed clear intent to undermine their autonomy.

Of course, the elves reacted by becoming increasingly isolationist, which suited the empire perfectly. Here was a kingdom that spurned diplomatic overtures and that refused to lend aid during the Second Blight when thedarkspawn attacked Montsimmard. The Dalish kingdom could not be anything but a dormant threat, one that needed to be crushed before it awoke.

Scholars point to the massacre at Red Crossing as the impetus for the Chantry's declaration of an Exalted March on the elven kingdom in the Dales. They conveniently ignore the fact that no one alive truly knows what happened at Red Crossing or why the elves attacked. The Chantry's response to the elven aggression that resulted in the slaughter of hundreds was predictable. But in light of my thesis, perhaps we should reexamine the events of Red Crossing and wonder if the attack was truly unprovoked. Or whether it is possible that someone saw benefit in sacrificing an entire village to justify the subjugation of an entire people.

—From A New Perspective on the Exalted March, a pamphlet by an anonymous author, published by the University of Orlais in 9:12 Dragon


 The First Blight: Chapter 4 - Griffons Take Flight
 Codex entry The First Blight: Chapter 4
Number: 43 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: Suledin Keep - during theCall Me Imshael orCapturing Suledin Keep side quests

Founded at Weisshaupt Fortress in the Anderfels, the Grey Wardens offered humanity hope in its darkest hour. Veterans of decades of battles with the darkspawn came together, and the best among them pledged to do whatever was necessary to stem the tide of darkness that swept across the land. These greathumans, elves, and dwarves pooled their knowledge of the enemy and formed a united front to finally put a stop to thearchdemon's rampage.

And stop it they did. Ballads are still told today of the first Grey Warden charge into the waves of darkspawn at the city of Nordbotten—each Warden facing 10 or 20 darkspawn at a time. Squadrons of Grey Wardens mounted on their mighty griffons, soaring through the blackened skies and battling the terrible archdemon with spear and spell: Oh, what a sight it must have been!

Incredibly, the Grey Wardens won that first battle. They raised their arms in victory, and suddenly there was hope. The Grey Wardens led the lands of men and the last stalwart defenders of the dwarven halls against the hordes of the archdemon Dumat for the next hundred years, gaining and losing ground, but never backing away. From all over Thedas, they recruited whoever possessed the skill and strength to raise the Grey Wardens' banner, making no distinction between elven slave or human nobleman, and finally, nearly two centuries after the first Old God rose from the earth, the Grey Wardens assembled the armies of men and dwarves at the Battle of Silent Plains. It was then that Dumat finally fell and the First Blight ended.

The Tevinter Imperium would face a new challenge with the coming of the prophet Andraste. Thoughts of theBlight grew distant. With Dumat's defeat, the darkspawn were considered no longer a threat—but with the wisdom of hindsight, we know that conceit proved foolish indeed. The task of the Grey Wardens was far from over.

—From Tales of the Destruction of Thedas, by Brother Genitivi, Chantry Scholar


 The First Blight: Chapter 1 - The Second Sin
 Codex entry The First Blight: Chapter 1
Number: 44 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: The Rusted Horn - (Crestwood)

Thedas is a land of fierce diversity, from the assassin-princes ofAntiva to the faded griffons of the Anderfels, but in my travels, I have found one tale that unites the people of this land. It is a story of pride and *****ation, and although the telling differs, the essence of the tale remains the same.

At the height of its power, the Tevinter Imperium stretched over much of Thedas, uniting the known world under the rule of the tyrannical magisters. It is said that the Old Gods whom the magisters worshipped gave them the knowledge of blood magic, and the magisters used this forbidden power to cement their rule. The blood ofelven slaves and humans alike ran down imperial altars to fuel magister greed, the tales of their excesses so horrifying that one can only be grateful that blood magic is prohibited today.

But all that stands tall must eventually fall. Perhaps they foresaw their ruin, or perhaps their pride knew no bounds, but whatever the reason, the magisters dared to open a magical portal into the Golden City at the heart of the Fade. They sought to usurp the Maker's throne, long left unattended in the Golden City after the Maker turned His back on His creations. They would storm heaven itself with their power and become as gods.

This is what the Chantry, in its oft-exercised tendency to understate, refers to as the second sin.

According to most versions of the tale, the magisters did indeed reach the Golden City and walked into the home of the Maker, where no living being before them had dared, or been able, to tread. But humanity is not meant to walk in heaven. The magisters were wicked with pride and other sins, and their presence tainted the Golden City. What once was a perfect, holy citadel became a twisted home of darkness and nightmares. The magisters were expelled back through their gateway and cursed for their treachery. As the Golden City had been tainted, so were the magisters twisted and transformed into things of darkness—the very first of thedarkspawn. The Golden City, once a shining beacon at the heart of the Fade, became the Black City, a reminder of all that man's pride has cost.

—From Tales of the Destruction of Thedas, by Brother Genitivi, Chantry Scholar


 The First Blight: Chapter 3 - The Dwarves Fall
 Codex entry The First Blight: Chapter 3
Number: 45 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: Hissing Wastes - Rock Top Ridge area south of Statue Camp and east of the Oasis.

The world during the First Blight was different from the world we know today. Aside from the civilized rule of the Imperium, humansas a race were largely barbarous and splintered, divided into clans and tribes and squabbling among ourselves for resources. At the same time, deep beneath Thedas's great mountain ranges spanned a dwarven culture as organized and advanced as ours was primitive.

As the darkspawn bubbled up to the surface from their underground lairs, mankind first buckled and then fought back. The armies of Tevinter attempted to face down the multitudes of twisted creatures and the horrid rotting of the land around them, but they could not be everywhere at once. Human history remembers the First Blight as a time of terrible devastation, and those stories are accurate, but in our arrogance we often forget the price paid by the dwarves in their isolated mountain kingdoms.

The dwarves faced far greater hordes than humanity as the darkspawn challenged them for control of the underground. Despite the might and technology the dwarves brought to bear, the savage darkspawn tore through them, first destroying the more remote thaigs before swallowing up entire kingdoms. Think of it: an entire civilization lost in the space of decades. Compared to the near-genocide that the dwarves faced, what we humans call the First Blight must have seemed a mere skirmish. Against the darkspawn, the dwarven lands have always borne the brunt of the fighting and the majority of the sacrifices.

Four dwarven kingdoms finally managed to combine their might and fight back, and that cooperation saved them. But for the rest of their lands it was too late. The darkspawn had taken the Deep Roads, the majestic underground passages that linked the dwarven lands throughout Thedas. The darkspawn could now attack anywhere on the surface through these tunnels.

Humanity simply was not prepared for such an onslaught. It was clear that the warfare we knew would not avail us. We had to find a new way to fight.

Thus came our salvation: The Grey Wardens were born.

—From Tales of the Destruction of Thedas, by Brother Genitivi, Chantry Scholar


 The First Blight: Chapter 2 - Dumat Rises
 Codex entry The First Blight: Chapter 2
Number: 46 (+3JoH, +3TD, +1T)
Location: Skyhold's Vault Library - second shelf on the left.

People today have little concept of the consequences of thesecond sin. Oh, believe me when I say that when asked, pious,Chantry-going folk will curse the use of foul magic, spitting and snapping their fingers—but none live today who actually remember the horror that was unleashed so very long ago. Whatever records might have existed regrettably did not survive the chaos and ignorance that was to follow. We have only the tales of survivors handed down through the murky ages and the dogma of the Chantry to instruct us, and that is precious little indeed.

I believe I am not understating when I say that the second sin unleashed the bane of all life upon Thedas. Thedarkspawn are more virulent than the worst plague, a heartless force of nature that came into our world like an ill wind. We know from accounts of later Blights (as these darkspawn invasions came to be called—never has a more appropriate name existed) that the darkspawn spread disease and famine wherever they tread. The earth itself is corrupted by their presence, the sky roiling with angry black clouds. I do not exaggerate, my friends, when I say that a mass gathering of darkspawn is an omen of dread cataclysm.

It is said that those cursed magisters who became the first darkspawn scratched at the very earth to find solace in the darkness of the dwarven Deep Roads, and there in the shadows they multiplied. Whether by intelligent design or by some last vestige of worship in their minds, they attempted to locate the Old Gods they had once served. They found what they sought: Dumat, first among the Old Gods, once known as the Dragon of Silence before the Maker imprisoned him and all his brethren beneath the earth for the first sin: usurping the Maker's place in mankind's heart.

The slumbering dragon awoke, freed from the Maker's prison by his twisted followers, and became corrupted himself. Dumat was transformed into the first Archdemon, his great and terrible power given will by a rotting, unholy mind. With the darkspawn horde following, Dumat rose and took wing in the skies once again, bringing ruin to the world the Maker had created. The Old God had become the eye of a dark storm that would ravage the entire world.

—From Tales of the Destruction of Thedas by Brother Genitivi, Chantry Scholar


The First Grand Enchanter
 Codex entry The First Grand Enchanter
Number: 67
Location: Inside the Winter Palace, through a door to the right of the starting location of the mission

Grand Enchanter Lothaire Hardouin was the first leader of theCircle of Magi when it was founded in 1:20 Divine. After Hardouin distinguished himself in battle during the Second Blight, Emperor Drakon himself endorsed him for the position. From all accounts, the Grand Echanter performed admirably, but some speculate Hardouin was a second choice-that Drakon had another mage, with connections to Inquisitor Ameridan, in mind for the job.

Tellingly, these debates are based on a half-finished letter to an army captain and the guest list of a party where Ameridan and the Emperor were in attendance. If any proof ever existed, it is likely dust. The idea's merits should be treated as such, for scholarship's sake.

-- From A short primer of Orlais' most excellent and inspiring history by Lord Renaures, published in 9:35 Dragon


 The First Inquisition
 Codex entry The First Inquisition
Number: 47 (+3JoH, +3TD, +2T)
Location: Speak to Cassandra duringThe Threat Remains and use the Investigate dialogue option "The Inquisition of old"? or speak to Mother Giselle and ask her about Inquisition history.

The birth of the Chantry took place more than nine ages ago; the mists of time have obscured once well-known facts. It is commonly believed the Chantry alone created the templars and the Circle of Magi. Few recall there was ever an Inquisition. Those who do, believe it predated the Chantry, hunting cultists and mages in a reign of terror ending only upon its transformation into the Templar Order. This is not quite the truth.

One must keep in mind the state of Thedas prior to the Chantry's creation: a world where the only source of order—the Tevinter Imperium—had fallen apart. People blamed magic for the death of Andraste, the Blight, the terror they saw every day—and not without reason.Abominations and demons rampaged the countryside. No one was safe. Disparate groups of men and women initially formed the Seekers of Truth, determined to reestablish order because no one else would do what was necessary. The truth they sought, the question they tried to answer, was how to restore sanity in a world gone mad.

Was theirs a reign of terror? Perhaps. Evidence suggests they were as vigilant in their protection of mages as they were of regular people. When they intervened, they convened an ad hoc trial to determine the guilty party. This even application of justice led to their poor reputation; the Seekers came down against every group at one time or another, their "Inquisition" gaining notoriety for being on no one's side but their own. They considered themselves good people, however—followers of the Maker's true commandments. This was never more evident than when they lay down their banner in support of the fledgling Chantry. They believed with all their heart that the Templar Order was the answer a desperate Thedas needed in a terrible time. Ultimately, the Inquisition was composed of independent idealists, not Chantry zealots; that is the truth.

—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi


The Gate Guardians
 Codex entry The Gate Guardians
Number: 48 (+3JoH, +3TD, +2T)
Location: Ritual Tower (Western Approach) - Examine pillar at base of stairs.

And as I walked in the desert, I saw a great armored figure whose form blotted out the sky. At first I took it to be no more than met the eye, a simple spiked statue, but as I approached, this deceptive icon transformed into a warrior as graceful as it was massive, its bladed staff leveled at me with energy crackling from its tip. Though my position was hardly optimal (primal magic burned a few feet from my face), I kept my wits and asked this mighty golem to show me mercy.

The armored figure spoke with a voice to make the sky quake and the stars scream. It sought magic to keep itself alive, it said, and the blood of the earth was the energy on which it survived. Having knowledge of the dwarves and the lyrium they provided to our mages, I directed the golem to the mage Atronis, who lived in nearby Perivantium, and it left without another word.

That is the inspiration for the gate guardians I have designed, as fanciful a tale as it might seem. As for why I have asked that each guardian cast from my designs be inset with a small lyrium rod, I must primarily state that it is mere fancy. If Archon Ishal, gentle autocrat that he is, sees fit to ensure that my statues are known across the empire—I hear that one shall stand in the Western Approach—I would treasure the small hope that someday, I might see one walk again.

—A tale told by Appius Trius, famed sculptor whose creations all sparked the imagination of those who beheld them, from Artists of Ancient Tevinter


 The Guardian
 Codex entry The Guardian
Number: 55 (+2T)
Location: Unlocked upon completingThe Descent
DLC: The Descent

Josephine found a torn handwritten journal page tucked into papers on her desk and immediately delivered it to the Inquisitor. The page was obviously written by Shaper Valta, but the Inquisition's ambassador cannot explain its appearance inSkyhold.

I don't remember most of what happened at the end. Inquisitor [surname] fought to stop the earthquakes, and we raced together through a place more beautiful than anything I had ever seen. How it could be the source of all that devastation confused me. It still does.

I felt Renn's absence with every step as we ran to the great circle. Immense lyrium veins pulsed with life, and their power flowed into the circle. Something grew from it. A towering being born from the Stone rose to stop us. The Guardian. It lashed out, and I fell into a warm light's embrace.

I thought I was returning to the Stone. Perhaps I did.

The light receded as I awoke in paradise. The Guardian lay shattered; the Inquisitor stood triumphant. A victory, but I could not take any joy in it. The Guardian had come to defend the Titan—protect the Stone from being weakened. It tried to kill the Inquisitor, but to me, it offered only gifts.

I hope to use them well—and someday understand why I was chosen to receive them.


 The Lion of Orlais 
 Codex entry The Lion of Orlais 
Number: 49 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: Winter Palace - Grand Apartments (Main Level)

As to your question regarding why a lion is considered the symbol of Orlais, particularly when the lion is a creature native only to eastern Thedas, the answer is quite simple. It adorns the crest of the Valmonts, the family that has ruled the empire since the end of the Exalted Age, and in truth it is the Valmonts which have come to represent Orlais. Before them, the Orlesian symbol was that of the descendants of Kordillus Drakon: a dragon.

As to why the lion adorns their crest? That dates back to the time of Lambert Valmont, a young captain of Orlais who distinguished himself at the Battle of Ayesleigh, that great and infamous battle that ended the Fourth Blight. It is said that young Valmont disregarded orders during the battle, taking his forces to relieve the beleaguered Antivans and saving them from absolute destruction. Though his superiors were at first chagrined, chalking up the captain's actions to an infatuation with a certain Antivan camp follower (this, incidentally, has never been confirmed), it later came to light that the Antivan force had been led by King Azar Adalberto Campana himself. In the political realignment following the Blight's end, Antiva was an important ally to Orlais—and Lambert Valmont was an Antivan hero. He was given the hand of one of King Azar's daughters in marriage and elevated to noble rank, with a valiant lion to adorn his newly created heraldry. The Orlesian emperor was forced to respond in kind, granting Valmont a marquisate. Imagine, if you will, the hero returning to Val Royeauxfrom the Blight, sporting a wife with royal blood and the honors of two nations. This is why jealous nobles called him the Swaggering Lion, a nickname he embraced.

It was Lambert Valmont's son, Alphonse, who later led the civil war against the usurper, Xavier Drakon. He killed Xavier in single combat, giving rise to the great Orlesian legend of the Lion Slaying the Dragon, putting an end to the Drakon dynasty as he assumed the throne... and changing the Orlesian symbol forever.

—From a letter by Brother Genitivi to Prince Cailan Theirin, 9:20 Dragon


 The Long Walk to Halamshiral
 Codex entry The Long Walk to Halamshiral
 Number: 50 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: Book inside the study in Villa Maurel

Only sixty-five of our group made it to Halamshiral. Some gave up. Some sickened, especially the little ones. Bandits stalked us. My mother forgive me, I had to steal food. A child fought me for extra scraps of bread. A few days later, I carried her for miles after her legs gave out. She died shivering in my arms.

I used to have a master, a mage. He fed me well, never beat me, even taught me how to read so I could do his accounts. But if he had a theory or a spell he wanted to test out, he'd get out his daggers, have the other servants tie me to a post, and carve furrows into my skin. I was so afraid. Every time, I was sure I would die. But at worst I'd collapse, get bandaged up, and lie in bed too weak to move for days. The other slaves visited me in secret to survey the damage. I'd heal just enough before he needed blood again. That is why I traveled from Vol Dorma to the Dales with nothing but rags on my back.

That is why there were one hundred and five of us when we set out, all elven. That is why I fell to my knees and wept when we crossed through the gates of my new home, a village for my people.

—Anonymous account of the Long Walk, as told to Brother Pekor of Ferelden, circa -140 Ancient


The Maker
 Codex entry The Maker
 Number: 51 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: Haven chantry - room accross from Josephine's office.

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


 The Mason's Tales: Freed Are Slaves
 Codex entry The Mason's Tales: Freed Are Slaves
 Number: 52 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: Obtained after completing the Freed Are Slaves mosaic and asking Gatsi (the dwarf npc standing on the left side inside Skyhold's main hall) to translate it.

I think this one is called "Freed Are Slaves," which is exactly the kind of "saying words but meaning different things" I expect from a Tevinter. There's lies in the carving, too, but I'll come back to that.

Subject aside, I like this. It's workmanlike, but in a good dwarven way. It repeats because the carver knows what she's good at, so she does it again and again. Makes me think she has more than a passing knowledge of the Stone.

That said, there's two sets of hands involved, one old, one new. Take this magister. He's glowing because he's fresh. Newer. Same with his trophies flanking him. Carved down from more complex figures. And the flat next to them - seems plain, doesn't it? The bottom is filled with detail, but this is left an open field? No, that's just what it is now, but there's shadows for a clever eye. So, what was here if not this handsome magister wanting his cod stuffed? Someone else instead of him and his friends, and two more figures on each side. Seven total.

Only the top was changed. The Qunari haven't been touched; that's old wear down there. When it was first done and hundreds of years later, yoked Qunari prisoners still fit. I don't suppose it's for the same reasons.

I can only say the what, not the why. I can guess that someone wanted to be a Tevinter hero and paid to have their face carved on an antiquity. I mean, that's a crime against ancestors where I'm from, but I don't expect Tevinters to obey dwarven honor. Or their own, really. They've been at war a long time, so I understand wanting to seem big. Orzammar's the same with the darkspawn, unfortunately.

Still, shame to lose the original. Not for the seven, for the carver. Good work, this.

The Mason's Tales: Invasion
 Codex entry The Mason's Tales: Invasion
Number: 53 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: Obtained after completing the Invasion mosaic and asking Gatsi (the dwarf npc standing on the left side inside Skyhold's main hall) to translate it.

This pretty collection is "Invasion." Big claim for seven people and one castle. Maybe "dreams" aren't as grand as mages claim. Flying looks like fun, though. Like falling, but up. So, not like falling at all.

It's seven here, seven magisters. Only five detailed, but that's because two have been chipped away. Looks like vandals; done with a rock, not chisel. Hard to come up with a reason to do it poorly like that except fear or lack of time. Maybe they had symbols different from the ones left because symbols are always making people angry enough to chip rock.

So these seven invade the Golden City. That's what it's meant to be because it's all fanciful. Needs stairs, if you ask me. Don't care if you can fly; stairs aren't just functional. They lead the eye and ground the structure. Here the sculptor hasn't just left them off, she's made the place too high. Anyone with a sense of Stone will tell you that this place is coming down under its own weight. It's intentional because it's a "god's" house, but I'm not sure what the style mishmash has to do with the "wonder" of that. If this were a real place from that long ago, you'd see only Tevinter in the architecture. But this looks like typical post-empire bluster, adding elven bits like they always owned it. That's an artist for you. A mason would have at least got it the right way round. Tevinter foundation with elven overlay, not muddled.

Anyway, simple message: the carver wants it known that mortals aren't supposed to be there. No stairs.


 The Mason's Tales: Sacrifice
 Codex entry The Mason's Tales: Sacrifice
Number: 54 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: Obtained after completing the mosaic Sacrifice and letting Gatsi (the dwarf npc standing on the left side inside Skyhold's main hall) translate it

From what I can figure, this one is called "Sacrifice." I'll get back to that later. By two sculptors, and I'll get back to that sooner.

The sculptor's gone to the trouble of faces. I'd guess she worked from portraits, which means they were people who considered themselves important enough to need them. The scene is a classic example of "don't do this" because the sculptor hates them. It's in the way it's carved: all fast, hard edges. Uglier than they need to be, even for your average Tevinter who - and this isn't just me, mind - stands like a lanky vein of lyrium. But don't mistake that for sloppy carving. It's natural, practiced. The carver knows Tevinter. Bet she is one, and it's self-hate, probably.

And obvious enough. There's skulls all over, and two big and horned. That brings to mind your Qunari, and fair enough, right? Tevinters hate Qunari and have ever since they showed up. No magister wants his mouth contradicted, let alone stitched. So it makes sense they're there, even that early, I suppose.

Because this is probably that business of readying to invade the Fade, and giants with horns are a good motivator to sodding hurry up. Odd thing, though, is that those two are not the only Qunari in the carving. The one in the middle was sculpted with horns, and someone has gone in later and chipped them off. You can tell by the surface of it. Well, maybe you can't. But I can.

Seen it happen time and again. Tastes change, and the ancestor's nudes are suddenly embarrassing. So in comes a new hand to paint on some clothes. And here, judging by the marks, to cut away the horns and make the victim look human. Some proud new owner didn't want to throw out the antiquity, but also didn't want people to think grandm'ma sliced up Qunari. Looks like they didn't care if she kept their heads around, though.

So! The carvers both wanted to show Tevinter being *****s, but the later one didn't want to show what about. And that's usually to avoid blame or deny credit. Or to be an arse, I suppose.


 The Mason's Tales: The Archdemon
 Codex entry The Mason's Tales: The Archdemon
Number: 55 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: Complete "The Archdemon" mosaic and let Gatsitranslate it.

I gather this one is titled "The Archdemon." Not "The Three Archdemons," and I'll get back to that. Good construction here. A nice balanced carving, if you consider Tevinters to have equal weight to the dragon's arse. Not a bad comparison, you ask me.

Seven magisters and some easy symmetry to give a host something to sound smart about after dinner. If I had to guess, they'd go on about how four lines, and four magisters, are part of the dragon and favored. Two lines are piercing it, so they do more damage than good. And one, that big one farthest out, has missed the thing completely. If this was carved around the Third Blight, that gets you three heads. Doesn't matter, those are all shallow details, probably followed by "and it speaks to me because my soul something regret whatever."

Now, the first thing those spits don't understand is that carving isn't just what you see. They've never made a physical thing and don't know the how of it. Depth is all tricks of shadow and such; the actual cuts are only as deep as the sculptor wants. And if you take a flat edge to this thing, what she wanted is strange. Because what I'm thinking is that this is one Archdemon and the three heads are the reaction to the three lines. Because piercing-line-one is on the same tier as the Tevinter second from left, and the middle head turned away. Piercing-line-two is the same tier as Tevinter fifth from left, and the first head turned away. And the line that misses it, that's the same tier as the big Tevinter, farthest out. And the dragon is looking straight at him. So the ones who did damage, the dragon doesn't care. The one who faked it, the dragon gives him an eyeful.

Now, add to that: artists like to hit big targets, but this carving has no faces. If she wanted to carve specific people, they'd be there, she has that skill. So, what if she's not after the magisters, she's carved Tevinter itself? You've got four ages of the empire where they're part of the dragon, two where they damage it, and one where they miss the point entirely and it gets them eaten. Think about it too much, and I bet you could come up with five different ways match their calendar, including your favorite aunt's birthday.

So, there you go. That's how to go from "balanced" to "not invited next time." At my house, anyway.

 The Mason's Tales: The Fall
 Codex entry The Mason's Tales: The Fall
Number: 56 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: Obtained after completing the mosaic The Fall and letting Gatsi translate it

Now here's a happy study. "The Fall," and a face that says, "why did we try to go where there were no stairs?" Because you go into an impossible building like that, you're coming out on fire, and then it will flip or something. I still do not see the appeal of dreams.

So, your seven magisters entered, and they came out blighted and not sure which way is up. I'll pass that off to the sculptor trying to represent madness. I mean, towers here, upended over there. You know what kind of force it would take to flip that much stone? It'd do more than burn your beard.

Here's something interesting, though. You've got a hint of pigment and leaf causing some sheen, but there's meant to be more. All of these were painted and repainted at some point, to match whatever lord's three-holer. But there's a type of finishing that you can do, a very fine and time-consuming pass that evens the surface. Do it right, you can get stone as smooth as glass. And that tower, and Beardy's skull, are meant to have it. And only a little is present on the others.

So, the first time this carving was wheeled out, it would have looked like Beardy was the target, so maybe he was first in the door? And the "light," it burns him and spreads to the others. And the polish or leaf would have caught light like a mirror and caused the viewer to squint. They'd have to look down or away, "joining" the magisters in their punishment. Makes them feel part of it.

That's what I figure, anyway. And it would sure keep the children out of the feast hall.


 The Mystery and Meaning of Eight Silks
 Codex entry The Mystery and Meaning of Eight Silks
Number: 57 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: Val Royeaux: Mid Level north - examine the silks off the balcony

Eight silks drape across Belle Marche. Eight silks that frame the sky and shade the calm of commerce. But why eight? That question is posed time and again by visitor and philosopher. What in the grand history of our capital is displayed in this subtle choice? The ages? But we have had nine, and what fool would have made such a prediction? There is nothing in the Orlesian mindset, in the heart of Orlais, that suggests even a hint of accepting an end to our way.

Perhaps then something less flattering, but veiled? It is opined that the eight represents the twin boys of Empress Yvette, born 7:99 which heralded the Blessed Age, being the entwined loops of the number "8" itself, not its value. The more irreverent suggest that the "8" could as easily be a slight against Yvette's figure, for she was rumored to be stout but determined in her choice of corsetry. Both theories are scoffed at by historians as mere number fetish.

What emerges when we consider the longevity of the question is not that there is meaning to be found, but that it is ingrained in us to search as though there is. For we need to believe that such a prominent detail of the greatest city the world has ever known must be thoroughly rife with meaning. And so certain are we, that we discount even the architect, who grew so annoyed of the question that he had the answer engraved on his memorial:

"There were sixteen rods."

How compares his "fact" to our search for "truth"?

—From Our Orlesian Heart, by (formerly) Sister Laudine

The Mystery of June
 Codex entry The Mystery of June
Number: 58 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: June's mosaic in one of the puzzle rooms during What Pride Had Wrought

Each elven "god" represents an aspect of their ancient civilization, each story a metaphor for this aspect. June's is least understood. Depictions stretch back to ancient Arlathan, but he appears most seldom of all their deities. Dalish legend says June is a god of crafts and building, but the oldest depiction have none of the tools the Dalish associate with him.

June's role may have changed over time, or simply cannot be understood today. As the elves fell, ancientTevinter spared little thought to preserving any Dalish culture not convenient or understood.

—From A Treaty on the Pagan and Heretical Customs of the Elven by Senallen Tavernier of the University ofOrlais, commissioned by Empress Celene

The Perendale War
 Codex entry
The Perendale War
Number: 59 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: Argon's Lodge in theEmerald Graves

Not many people take the road west into Perendale for the sake of pleasure. Few living things inhabit the rocky countryside save for silver miners, wyverns, and an astoundingly pugnacious breed of mountain goat. In far-off days, the mountains around the city were full of dragons, and perhaps this was what first brought it to the attention of the Pentaghast kings.

Certainly, it was not the goats.

Although the region has belonged to Nevarra since the late Blessed Age, travelers here will find much that reminds them of a provincial Orlesian town. A great carving depicting the Lions Slaying the Dragon adorns Perendale's gate, and many Orlesian lions decorate the city's buildings. And there are still many citizens who cling to the hope that the empress will restore the city to the empire.
Historians mostly agree that it was not the dragons, nor the silver, and certainly not the goats that began centuries of warfare between Orlais and Nevarra. It was Emperor Etienne Valmont and the Pentaghasts.

In 7:82 Storm, the Pentaghast family, fresh on the throne again for the first time in generations and eager to build up the alliances lost by the Van Markham dynasty, approached the emperor to solidify a peace treaty through marriage. The emperor, who was under great pressure to produce an heir, set aside his empress of 17 years and wed Princess Sotiria Pentaghast, theoretically cementing a promise of peace and cooperation between Nevarra and Orlais.

Promises are hard to keep. By 7:97 Storm Sotiria was still childless, and the emperor sent her to a cloister so that he might marry his mistress. As anyone other than Etienne might have predicted, the Nevarrans took this poorly. Angry letters arrived in the Imperial Palace by the cartload. A small war party of Pentaghasts rode into Orlais and reclaimed Princess Sotiria. But the Nevarrans did not take military action yet. They were strategists, and knew to bide their time.

In 8:46 Blessed, while most of the Orlesian army was committed to a war in Ferelden, the Pentaghasts began their war against Orlais. The Orlesians rallied a defense and drove the Nevarrans from Ghislain and Arlesans, but at the cost of much of their northern territory. Perendale was lost and never recovered. A lingering sign that peace between the two nations was impossible.

—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi


 The Qun
 Codex entry The Qun
Number: 60 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: Storm Coast: Storm's Solitude - by a wrecked, half-buried ship on the coast

Long ago, the Ashkaari lived in a great city by the sea. Wealth and prosperity shone upon the city like sunlight, and still its people grumbled in discontent. The Ashkaari walked the streets of his home and saw that all around him were the signs of genius: triumphs of architecture, artistic masterpieces, the palaces of wealthy merchants, libraries, and concert halls. But he also saw signs of misery: the poor, sick, lost, frightened, and the hopeless. And the Ashkaari asked himself, "How can one people be both wise and ignorant, great and ruined, triumphant and despairing?"

So the Ashkaari left the land of his birth, seeking out other cities and nations, looking for a people who had found wisdom enough to end hopelessness and despair. He wandered for many years through empires filled with palaces and gardens, but in every nation of the wise, the great, the mighty, he found the forgotten, the abandoned, and the poor. Finally, he came to a vast desert, a wasteland of bare rock clawing at the empty sky, where he took shelter in the shadow of a towering rock, and resolved to meditate until he found his answer or perished.

Many days passed, until one night, as he gazed out from the shadow of the rocks, he saw the lifeless desert awaken. A hundred thousand locusts hatched from the barren ground, and as one, they turned south, a single wave of moving earth. The Ashkaari rose and followed in their wake: a path of devastation miles wide, the once verdant land turned to waste. And the Ashkaari's eyes were opened.

Existence is a choice.
There is no chaos in the world, only complexity.
Knowledge of the complex is wisdom.
From wisdom of the world comes wisdom of the self.
Mastery of the self is mastery of the world. Loss of the self is the source of suffering.
Suffering is a choice, and we can refuse it.
It is in our own power to create the world, or destroy it.
And the Ashkaari went forth to his people.
—An excerpt from The Qun, Canto 1


The Rebel God
 Codex entry The Rebel God
Number: 61 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)

The Dalish use "Harellan" to mean "traitor to one's kin," but the word does not appear in any elven text before the Towers Age. The ancient root-word is related to "harillen," or opposition, and "hellathen," or noble struggle. The Dalish call Fen'Harel a god of deception, but I posit a far more accurate translation would be "god of rebellion."

What he rebelled against is a story lost to time. In Dalish legends, Fen'Harel seals away the other deities out of love of trickery. If we understood more ancient elven, we might find earlier versions of the Dread Wolf's story give him a more nuanced motivation beyond spite.

—From A Treaty on the Pagan and Heretical Customs of the Elven, by Senallen Tavernier of the University of Orlais, commissioned by Empress Celene.


 The Secret Tongue of Slaves
 Codex entry The Secret Tongue of Slaves
Number: 62 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: Coracavus, Western Approach- in the Holding Cells

Despite widespread illiteracy, Tevinter's slaves have developed a series of small pictograms that they scrawl on walls or under furniture, hidden from their uncaring owners. Regional variations make deciphering them a unique challenge. In one city, the sign of a clenched fist means a murderous master. In another, the same symbol indicates a harsh slave owner but not one with a fatal temper.

The ruling class's general indifference to the moods and fears of their slaves makes this pictorial argot an important method of communication. It is therefore all the more strange so many Tevinter comedies center around a farcical misunderstanding of a sloppily written sigil, where witty slaves scramble to subvert blame in time to avoid beheading. Perhaps it comforts Tevinter's well-to-do to believe that their property is only this clever—and human—in fiction.

—From a lesson book by Besha of Rivain


 The Women of All War
 Codex entry The Women of All War
Number:  63 (+3JoH, +4TD, +2T)
Location: Upon customizing Skyholdwith Ferelden decor and examining one of the Andraste statues erected outside of the main hall

Like many features of Skyhold, these four statues are not original to the structure. Scratchings much newer than the sculpture suggest these were placed by Fereldans as representations ofAndraste. Typical appropriation; these are not Our Lady. They are altered Chasind figures, and likely had animal heads or some such. The number suggests the barbarian tradition of personifying seasons as female warriors, bearing the typical attributes of renewal and death. Winter is of note for its brutality, as it is tied to their rumored custom of killing those who flee battle. Harsh enough, but more so when you note that killing the fleeing was not left to fellow soldiers, but common citizens waiting to meet them at their camps. Such was their commitment that death at the hands of their people was welcomed over the shame of broken morale. Such is the brutality of their animist gods.

Archivist Banon

Here follows a relevant page from historic examination:

For She of All and War will dade,
And issue forth as with a spur,
And welcome home she will the bold,
Returning them with crowns and brand.
But knowing runs the empty hand,
That all that waits is falling cold.
For such the shame to flee a cur,
Is glory saved with mother's blade.
—From Barbarian Blood: Chasind Myth Made Sensible, collections of the University of Orlais


 Codex entry Titans
Number: 71 (+2T)
Location: Unlocked upon completingThe Descent
DLC: The Descent

Harritt made an odd discovery in Skyhold's Undercroft: a page of handwritten text torn from Shaper Valta's personal journal.

The Titans are real. I knew it the moment I unearthed that ancient text. Renn scoffed at the words I read. I couldn't blame him, even as I felt the truth settle on me like a warm cloak. Much of our history has been lost, and the Wall of Memories goes back only so far. There had to be more to the story of our people, and I've finally found one of those lost chapters.

It's impossible to describe in words how truly vast a Titan is. The one I met is so large you can only glimpse parts of it. I had wandered inside its body for who knows how long without even realizing it. I've heard tales ofdragons and giants on the surface, but descriptions of their size do not compare to the Titan's.

Its blood now flows through me, and its song fills the gaps in our history. I close my eyes and see glimpses of the world that was, before everything changed and the dwarven race broke in two. Something caused the Titans to fall, and the fate of my people fell with them. The Titan wants me to know. No, more than that. It wants me to understand. There is a loneliness to its song.


 Twins in Shadow
 Codex entry Twins in Shadow
Number: 64 (+3JoH, +5TD, +2T)
Location: Temple of Mythal

Dirthamen and Falon'Din are linked in Dalish legend as inseparable twin brothers. Scraps of elven stories from after the fall of Arlathan—transcribed into Tevinter and recently lent to our fair University—refer to them as “twin souls” but draw no family connection. The oldest stories never even name them directly, referring to Falon'Din as “Dirthamen's shadow,” and Dirthamen as “Falon'Din's reflection.”

The little we understand implies their bond was not romantic, beyond even the strongest friendship. The legends of Dirthamen and Falon'Din may have been an allegory for complex elven relationships we lack context to comprehend.

—From A Treaty on the Pagan and Heretical Customs of the Elven, by Senallen Tavernier of the University ofOrlais, commissioned by Empress Celene


Unreadable Elven Writing
 Codex entry Unreadable Elven Writing
Number: 65 (+3JoH, +5TD, +2T)
Location: Temple of Mythal, revealed by Veilfire or purchased from the book merchant in Val Royeaux.

Veilfire writing from a ruin in the Arbor Wilds; the script is so ancient it defies translation.

There are whispers from the Well of Sorrows. It's impossible to understand the entire text, but certain parts suddenly reveal a shadow of their original meaning.

"She shook the radiance of the stars, divided them into grains of light, then stored them in a shaft of gold. Andruil, blood and force, save us from the time this weapon is thrown. Your people pray to You. Spare us the moment we become Your sacrifice."

There is a brief image of an elaborate golden spear, glowing with unbearable heat. Then it fades.


 Untranslatable Elven Writing
 Codex entry Untranslatable Elven Writing
Number: 66 (+3JoH, +5TD, +2T)
Location: Temple of Mythal, or purchased from the book merchant in Val Royeaux

This veilfire script was hidden in the Arbor Wilds. It's so old it cannot be translated into any known language.

There are whispers fom the Well of Sorrows. It's impossible to understand the entire text, but certain parts suddenly reveal a shadow of their original meaning.

"We are trapped. The ones born here do not understand the keenness of what we have lost, or why so many of their elders weep as they enter uthenera. The new ones are faithful to Mythal, but do not understand what she was in her fullness. Without the wise to lead them, they will lose what they should have been.

I will teach them. They must serve. We must prepare for those who cast Mythal down. I shed my name the day I began her service. I shed my new one again, now that she rests. I will only be known by the sorrow that cuts my heart."

For a moment, there is a feeling of wrenching loss. Then it fades.


 Ville Montevelan
 Codex entry Ville Montevelan
Number: 67 (+3JoH, +5TD, +2T)
Location: Claiming the Ville Montevelan landmark (near the broken bridge) in theExalted Plains

Ville Montevelan was the first settlement humans established in the Dales following the victory of the Exalted March. Soldiers were the earliest residents of the village. In 2:21 Glory, Sister Amity, Champion of the Exalted March, laid the foundation stones of the village chantry in a symbolic gesture; the building's construction was completed in 2:22. Laying aside her sword and bow, Sister Amity took on the task of leading Ville Montevelan's flock, becoming Revered Mother Amity. She served the Maker for over forty years, ministering to both residents of the Dales and the many pilgrims to the historic site. Revered Mother Amity died peacefully in her sleep in 2:64; her ashes are interred in the chantry's vault, where dozens of pilgrims still come each year to pay their respects.

—From Exalted: A History of the Dales by Lord Ademar Garde-Haut, royal historian.


Vir Dirthara: A Flowering Imago
 Codex entry Vir Dirthara: A Flowering Imago
Number: 78
Location: Shattered Library - Courtyard
DLC: Trespasser

The pages of this book—memory?—describes an immensely tall, immensely graceful vine that flowers with the heat of a copper sunset and has blossoms as large as ponds, petals as long as a man, and scents puffing out like citron and sky and carrion-death.

The day the last of the vines folds, spent and extinct, the creator of this memory weeps and, after recording the flower's sights and sounds, enters uthenera.

"Treasure this thought, for it was the last of its kind, and so much more than the last of me."


Vir Dirthara: Attentive Listeners
 Codex entry Vir Dirthara: Attentive Listeners
Number: 79
Location: Shattered Library - Courtyard
DLC: Trespasser

The pages of this book—memory?—show a solemn group of elves in an ampitheater of living wood, entire trees grown into seats and stairs for the listeners to recline on. Two other elves and a spirit of learning are speaking in turn on ways to bend the properties of the material world when casting spells. At the end, the spirit, with the air of a senior lecturer, floats forward and booms in a surprisingly deep voice.

"The unchanging world is delicate: spells of power invite disaster and annihilation. The unchanging world is stubborn: the pull of the earth fiercely resists making fire run like water or stone rise like mist. The unchanging world rings with its own harmony. Listen with fearless hearts, and great works will unfold."


 Vir Dirthara: Birds of Fancy
 Codex entry Vir Dirthara: Birds of Fancy
Number: 80
Location: Shattered Library - Courtyard
DLC: Trespasser

The pages of this book—memory?—describe a pair playing, colliding in the air, bodies formed for kissing, stroking lines of heat as molten as the sun. The dance is fluid, roiling, never ending, lovers tangled in a laughing knot that rolls on for years, a promise never to be parted, whatever ages come.

An annoyed thought intrudes, from one who marked this memory after it was recorded:

"By the gods, find a private chamber!"


 Vir Dirthara: Duel of a Hundred Years
 Codex entry Vir Dirthara: Duel of a Hundred Years
Number: 81
Location: Shattered Library - Courtyard
DLC: Trespasser

The pages of this book—memory?—show an narrow plateau on top of a mountain, Two armored figures—one in gold, one in black—are fighting in the snow. Steel flickers so fast the air hums. Blood dots the ground. They do not stop for breath. The one in black makes no sound as a blade parts his throat.

"Mythal, in her wisdom, interceded in an argument between Elgar'nan and Falon'Din. With clever words, she convince them to settle their grievance through a battle of their champions. Elgar'nan and Falon'Din agreed, and set their champions against each other rather than declare war among the gods. May those knights long be remembered, and Mythal's wisdom be praised."


 Vir Dirthara: Exile of the Forbidden Ones
 Codex entry Vir Dirthara: Exile of the Forbidden Ones
Number: 82
Location: Shattered Library-Entrance, on a desk
DLC: Trespasser

The pages of this book—memory?—show the blazing forms of the Evanuris banishing a howling spirit from the reaches of theFade that touch their lands. A voice rings out, stern and imperial:

"For abandoning the People in their time of greatest need, for casting aside form to flee to where the Earth could not reach, we declare Xebenkeck and others of her ilk exiled from the lands of the Evanuris. Beware! Their familiarity with shape allows them to travel paths unaided. They may be bound, but only the protection of your gods will fully shield you from their malice. They are Forbidden from the Earth that is our right."


 Vir Dirthara: Homecoming
 Codex entry Vir Dirthara: Homecoming
Number: 83
Location: Shattered Library-Entrance, on a desk
DLC: Trespasser

The pages of this book—memory?—describe an elf approaching a city of glass spires so deeply blue they ache. The city's outskirts are wrapped in lakes of mist, and figures stroll along the pearly, glowing strips as if they walked on solid ground. Groves of trees woven into enormous parks shelter elves in quiet hollows, while other elves walk below a river churning along an invisible shoal in the air.

The scene hums with quiet talk and contentment as the memory's maker reaches the city's gates, already thrown open wide.


Vir Dirthara: Raising the Sonallium
 Codex entry Vir Dirthara: Raising the Sonallium
Number: 84
Location: Shattered Library - Lower Archives
DLC: Trespasser

The pages of this book—memory?—describe a heated argument between a group of well-dressed elves inside an elaborately arched pavilion on an island floating in a void. In the distance, haloed by a blizzard of light, thousands of elves are maintaining an elaborate magical ritual that pulls raw essence from the Fade, funneled into a sphere in the air. Through the lens of the sphere can be seen a world of indigo waterfalls and rust-red jungles, and a temple palace so frescoed and cleverly carved, it is a masterpiece in itself.

The well-dressed elves' shouting grows so loud, it can be heard over the magic. One leaps at another, howling and pulling out a knife burning with prismatic flame.

"Architects of the Grand Sonallium (a gift from Blessed Sylaise to Clever June as thanks for a great favor) in friendly debate over the color of the palace's roof trim."


 Vir Dirthara: Signs of Victory
 Codex entry Vir Dirthara: Signs of Victory
Number: 85
Location: Shattered Library-Entrance, on a desk
DLC: Trespasser

The pages of this book—memory?—describe a monument made in a single afternoon by a thousand-thousand toiling servants swarming over a lump of fallen stone as large as a collapsed mountain. By the end of the day, the stern figure of Elgar'nanstares down into a valley, carved out from the foothills of the rock. The slaves have disappeared. Light radiates from the eidolon's narrowed eyes and its open, snarling mouth.

"Hail Elgar'nan, first among the gods! Mark his victory eternal!"


 Vir Dirthara: The Deepest Fade
 Codex entryVir Dirthara: The Deepest Fade
Number: 86
Location: Shattered Library - Lower Archives
DLC: Trespasser

The pages of this book—memory?—are instructions on how to reach the deepest parts of the Fade, realms so far removed they're unmarked by Dreamers:

"Epiphany requires a mind smooth as mirror glass, still as stone. Put aside ten years for practice, and the next hundred for searching. What others have learned will ease your journey. Those who never manifested outside the Fade will find it easier to find its stillest roots, but it is rare the compulsion overtakes our brethren of the air."


 Way of the Artificer
 Codex entry Way of the Artificer
Number: 68 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Skyhold: on the table next to Varric if Way of the Artificer is active

From "Of Mechanical Obscura." The words of Three-Eyes' make one passage stand out:

"What can this be?" To ask that question is prove oneself a craftsman, one who looks upon the raw and wonders what it can become. The Artificer is not of that ken, for she will look upon the same resource and wonder not how it can be elevated, but how it can be made to serve. There are no more words necessary.

Multiple schematics follow.


 Way of the Assassin
 Codex entry Way of the Assassin
Number: 69 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Skyhold: on the floor next toCole if Way of the Assassinis active, or purchased fromWillvan at the Summer Bazaar in Val Royeaux

From "Of Granting Death: Blades and Other Means." Heir's words make one passage stand out:

You misunderstand the point of secrecy. Of course they knew that I was there—one of their number was dead. It is never the aim that they are ignorant to my purpose or presence. Death is, after all, a message, and messages are meant to be received. It is paramount that the arrival remain secret, not the result. They know what may come, but never when—until the answer is "now" and there is naught they can do but receive.

A treatise on cutting edges and other debilitating elements follows.


 Way of the Champion
 Codex entry Way of the Champion
Number: 70 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Can be found in the area next to Blackwall, or purchased from Willvan at the Summer Bazaar in Val Royeaux

From "Champions of Note in a Great Tradition." Lord Chancer's words make one passage stand out:

There is sacrifice in attaining the adulation of others, for the while the Champion is raised above all but their patron, this is done with the weight of expectation. Their shoulders bear the hopes of those they protect, the pride of those they inspire, and the demands of those they lead. And in becoming such a figure, the Champions accepts not just the aspirations of his or her allies, but also the dangerous envy of the enemy.

One must remember the figures of note who have come before, for the glorious tales of their triumphs are often punctuated by steep and sudden tumbles. They burn bright, and draw others to their glory. But as anyone who knows of flames can attest, a simple shift of breeze or landscape can send the fire homeward. Those who seek the title never think themselves joining a hundred bound for obscurity. They know they are the rare few who will permanently be enshrined in glory. If they did not think as such, they would not be fit to try.

Many heraldic symbols follow, as well as martial instruction.


Way of the Knight-Enchanter
 Codex entry Way of the Knight-Enchanter
Number: 71 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Can be found in the area next to Vivienne, or purchased from Willvan at the Summer Bazaar in Val Royeaux

From "Rank and Role in Victory." Commander Helaine's words make one passage stand out:

Many are reluctant to include the rank, but that is because it is rare enough that they have not seen it deployed. Most change their mind when they fight alongside. All change their mind when they fight against.

An account:
The training was not pleasant for me. When first I exited my Circle, I was as a babe new to the world. And then I was in battle, in defense of nation and name, and the lines did form, and my fellow mages took their positions in the rear.

And I stepped forward.

Then my place in the fray opened, and those of muscle and blade were around me, and I was not afraid. For I knew my role and worth, and soon did all others know them as well. Any concerns I had that the knights would not heed evaporated. All knew their rank, their place, and the value of that to their lives. Our blades were of different ken, but our purpose was clear and defined. On the field, in the battle, I command.

Detailed principles and examples of command follow.


 Way of the Necromancer
 Codex entry Way of the Necromancer
Number: 72 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Can be found in the area next to Dorian, or purchased from Willvan at the Summer Bazaar in Val Royeaux

From "Mortalitasi: For the Living, the Dead." The words of Speaker Viuus Anaxas make one passage stand out:

We are of this world, and as with any piece that seeks to leave its element, there is a void when we abandon the mortal. It must be that this would hold our returning to the Maker. It must be that we should seek balance. It must be that the Maker's first children aid the second.

An account:

Breath ceased on the hour exactly. We felt his absence in that moment, and were ready. It was gentle, and all were calmed by the signs of spirit entering, knowing there would be no chains on their loved one. Unfettered, he would find the side of the Maker. But that was not the training for the battlefield. I had heard the accounts and knew my role, and I was ready. Then our warriors signaled the charge, and I was not ready. Breath was not stilled by the hour and was not gentle. And I was sore afraid. Then the enemy countered, and I saw blades come for the good men whom I had stood beside, and I would not allow it! The dead who had fallen, I bid their forms to serve, and it was the turn of our foes to know fear. But I had peace, for I had granted the fallen greater purpose, and in doing, had honored life by protecting it.

Detailed ritual instructions follow.


 Way of the Reaver
 Codex entry Way of the Reaver
 Number: 73 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Can be found in the area next to Iron Bull, or purchased from Willvan at the Summer Bazaar in Val Royeaux

From "A Path of Warning and Harsh Promises." Breaker Thram's words make one passage stand out:

The blood of the dragon is treated in a way that speaks of dark intent, though motive is left to the temperament of the individual reaver. All of us can be tempted to harsh conduct. It is simply the fate of the reaver that theirs is the power to be brutal above most others. Their destruction is first inward, a commitment and test that spares them the instant distrust of the blood mage - to whom temptation comes with ease and the will of a demon in constant threat.

An account:

I cut the beast. It had seared me, but now its blood was the balm that would sooth. Later, I took the smallest amount and, adding it to the rite and ritual I had learned, drank without hesitation. It did not taste like blood as the uninitiated understand it, for they only know the taste of the wound, a flavor of defeat. This was the taste of blood coursing within, of life, of the primal - a burning that is not swallowed so much as it inhabits. To infuse with the blood and life of such a beast is to be changed at the core. Some could see it and knew I was more than I had been. Some could not and had no warning. And some knew, but would not say, for the choice of how to wield it is truly mine. The act of becoming is a defiance of all expectation. I am above. I see where the blade must go. I see through you.

Several mixtures are detailed, each contributing to the final.


 Way of the Rift Mage
 Codex entry Way of the Rift Mage
Number: 74 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Can be found in the area next to Solas in Skyhold

From "Power Bleeds: Harness the Flow." Your Trainer's words make one passage stand out:

There are no tomes dedicated to this manipulation. There has been no time for academics, only the practical—and not in a manner that mitigates risk. Power in a raw form has found an outlet, both visible and in ways that only we of arcane proclivity can sense. The risk is great.

An account:

From this page forward, these are the notes of Thelric. They began as the work of my mentor Julion, and I will continue in the research she began, as she cannot, because she is dead. The rift we were examining did not react well to her last investigation. We believed ourselves prepared for demonic manifestation. We were not prepared for how the energies we expected would be encountered. Well-versed in the forces that magic can produce, my senior was surprised by an alteration, a deviance. That which previously had to be coaxed is now a flood that must be staunched. The same amount in different intensity, quick to expose fault in the way it is accessed. She drew too much, expecting resistance. There was none, and her form suffered the brunt. Tread carefully in studies of new matters, for I cannot unsee the end of her.

Scattered symbols and sketches follow.


 Way of the Tempest
 Codex entry Way of the Tempest
Number: 75 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Skyhold: on the table next to Sera if Way of the Tempest is active, or purchased from Willvan at the Summer Bazaar in Val Royeaux

From "Of Storms: Notes on the Tempest in Practice." Kihm's words make one passage stand out:

They expect folly in the Tempest and are fooled, for there is no madness in knowing the absolute limit of ability and charging to that edge. Wars may be a tactical affair, but the one-on-one meeting of combatants is decided by the one who first realizes they are in mortal peril and commits fully. Many reach that point; the Tempest starts there. By the time their foes have risen to match, it is too late.

And another:

They asked what type of shot they should encase the mixture in, expecting some trebuchet pot or a vessel fit to pour over a palisade. I bade them make it by the barrel and store it in my quarters with a thousand glass vials. They were afraid, and I smiled.

Another still:

Forward! Ever so! Where you were is dangerous! Where you go is dangerous! Different reasons, both to your advantage! Leap! Then leap again! Looking is for witnesses, not the disaster!

Also one more:

I did not say I was unappreciative, nor unimpressed. That you were a sight to behold is not in question. All I noted is that the Tempest is offensive not just in ability, but in what condition you leave the field. I should like a hundred of you to deploy in the cities of my enemy, and not a one to stand as defense in my own home.

A series of unstable brews follows.


Way of the Templar
 Codex entry Way of the Templar
Number: 76 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Can be found in the area next to Cassandra inSkyhold, or purchased fromWillvan at the Summer Bazaar in Val Royeaux

From a treatise on lyrium and its varied forms. Ser's words make one passage stand out:

The means and usage employed by the templar are far stronger than even the droughts of magi, and are of considerable danger to the uninitiated. It is not something that is introduced in gradual fashion. Rather, it is a great infusion that is daily held in check by ritual maintenance.

An account:
We entered the makeshift chantry, and my comrades-to-be were arranged as though an honor guard - the trainer waiting to receive me. I was invited to pass among them, and it seemed important that each step be my will. Any reluctance would have signaled that I was not ready. They were boisterous and encouraging, slapping hands upon my shoulders as I passed. Upon reaching the trainer, he turned to me. Before him was the boxed philter I had prepared. He nodded, as if to ask if I was ready, and I returned the gesture. His eyes were solemn as he raised a mailed hand. It was bathed in the shapeless glow of lyrium far too strong, prepared in a way I did not know.

The hands of my fellows, still on my shoulders, gently turned from welcome to restraint, and my arms were made immobile at my sides. I felt a rising alarm, but my certainty beat it down, as it would many times in my career. The trainer pressed the glow against my chest, and in an instant all was pain and white. When next I had my senses, there was much camaraderie and rejoicing, but also knowing looks. Each day, I felt a hunger deeper than I had ever known, and woe be me if it went unfed. I cannot imagine bearing it without the support of the Order and my certain purpose.

Several instructions for handling lyrium follow.


 What Pride Had Wrought
 Codex entry What Pride Had Wrought
Number: 77 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Obtained after completion of main quest, What Pride Had Wrought

And as the black clouds came upon them,
They looked on what pride had wrought,
And despaired.

The work of man and woman,
By hubris of their making.
The sorrow a blight unbearable.
—Canticle of Threnodies 7:10-11

Pride! What other sin wounds us so deeply as pride? It drove the old Tevinter magisters to blacken the Golden City, it pushed Maferath to betray Beloved Andraste, and it has made fools of kings and peasants ever since the Maker formed us from nothing.

Pride disguises itself in surety. Who among us has not looked at our fair country and thought "Surely we are safe here, under protection. Our world will last forever, for we are mighty and wise." These verses say to the faithful: go and look upon the ruins of old, and ask who remembers the faces of those who dwelled there? Only the Maker's knowledge is complete. The words He gave to us through Blessed Andraste are the one true constant in our world. A land without the Chant is doomed to be forgotten by time.

—Notes on the Chant of Light, by Mother Bezoria of the Grand Cathedral, 9:37 Dragon


 Winter Palace
 Codex entry Winter Palace
Number: 78 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Winter Palace Grand Apartments: Grand Apartments, Main level
The Servants' Wing: Servants' Wing, kitchen rafters
The Grand Library of Halamshiral: plaque outside Vestibule entrances
The Verchiel Fountain:Palace Exterior, The Emerald Crown, backside of fountain
Le Requiem: Upper Level, Le Requiem, podium

The Grand Apartments

This wing once served as a home-away-from-home for members of House Valmont's four cadet branches, but it has fallen into disuse since Emperor Florian's reign. The late emperor would not allow relatives more distant than his siblings into the Winter Palace; for years the entirety of the Grand Apartments was closed off.

—Excerpt from Architectural History of Orlais, Volume 1 by Elodie Ferrneau

The Servants' Wing

During her reign's fifth year, Empress Celene substantially expanded the palace servants' living quarters. They now encompass a large stretch of garden which the landscape architect Trenou designed; it is considered one of the finest examples of his style in Orlais.

—Excerpt from Architectural History of Orlais, Volume 1 by Elodie Ferrneau

The Grand Library of Halamshiral

The Winter Palace's collection of book is one of the world's largest; only the library of the University of Orlaisand the Imperial Palace library compare. Famed cabinet maker Gustav of Val Fontaine designed and built the shelves, the finest examples of his marquetry technique still in existence.

—Excerpt from Architectural History of Orlais, Volume 1 by Elodie Ferrneau

The Verchiel Fountain

Emperor Judicael I commissioned this massive fountain to commemorate House Valmont's historic victory against Xavier Drakon. The four lions represent Emperor Alphonse Valmont and his three younger brothers—Duke Isidore d'Arlesans, Duke Yvon of Savrenne, and Duke Stephan of Val Montaigne—who took the field against the usurper.

—Excerpt from Architectural History of Orlais, Volume 1 by Elodie Ferrneau

Le Requiem

After his coronation in 8:84 Blessed, Emperor Florian commissioned the building of a chapel in the palace of Halamshiral as his first act, to honor his infant daughter Evangeline who died in the Hundred Days' Cough outbreak of 8:77 Blessed. The chapel contains exquisite murals Empress Justinia herself painted, of the life and death of Andraste.

—Excerpt from Architectural History of Orlais, Volume 1 by Elodie Ferrneau


 Worn Pillars
 Codex entry Worn Pillars
 Number: 79 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Unlocked at the Worn Pillarslandmark, Forbidden Oasis

A sketch of the pillars, followed by another drawing imagining the pillars as part of a grand monument, with appended notes on the subject:

The remains of the structures surely predate the Second Blight. Perhaps older. My knowledge of ancient Imperium architecture is limited. There are some similarities, but I'm uncertain of their origin. One of the miners thinks they're elven—of course this is based on a few carvings he found that "look sort of elfy." The pillars are unlike the ruins one sees in the Dales. Of course, these would be much older than anything found there.

—Excerpt from the journal of Henri Ducett, Envers Mining Company representative and amateur historian


Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts
 Codex entry Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts
Number: 80 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Obtained after the event in the Winter Palace in Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts

The Old Gods will call to you,
From their ancient prisons they will sing.
Dragons with wicked eyes and wicked hearts,
On blacken'd wings does deceit take flight,
The First of My children, lost to night.
—Canticle of Silence 3:6

The Dissonant Canticle of Silence is an alternate creation story to the versions in the Canticle of Threnodies. Much of the Canticle is written from the point of view of the Maker Himself as He addresses humankind, which is why it was ultimately considered a blasphemous presumption and removed from the verses of the Chant. Popularly attributed to Archon Hessarian, Silence depicts the Maker as more sorrowful at the corruption and betrayal of His children—both spirit and mortal. He mourns the fall and corruption of the Old Gods as His own mistake, and urges His mortal children to turn aside from the dark path their elder siblings have led them down.

Most historians agree that Archon Hessarian had indeed likely written this Canticle during the bloody TevinterTransfiguration. Literary scholars of the Imperium often cite this as one of the oldest recorded pieces of propaganda. In the sixth verse, the grieving Maker calls upon His mortal children to acknowledge that the dragon gods have manipulated and deceived them, and to throw off their corruptive influence and return to the Light. As the people of Tevinter rose up and slaughtered anyone remaining faithful to their Old Gods, this became the rallying cry of the most terrible bloodbath in the history of the Imperium.

–From The Chant of Light: Literary Analysis and History by Sister Tessaria


 In Your Heart Shall Burn
 Codex entry In Your Heart Shall Burn
Number: 81 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Unlocked upon completion of In Your Heart Shall Burn

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.
—Canticle of Threnodies 5:7

In passages one through six, His first children wanted for nothing; freed from need, they could only praise. But it was hollow, without cost. We—and all the physical—were created immutable, that our works would require struggle. A wonder created of wood and stone proves more intent than any wish of the Fade.

Here in the gentlest verses of the Chant, we see how great His gift and how stern His punishment. To inspire, He gave us dreams, such that we would strive to make this limited world reflect His glory. Some look upon that nightly memory and feel only desire, as though owed His splendor. We, the second children, were meant to master the wonts and wanes of emotion and childish pursuits, to honor at a distance and move ever forward. We failed in this, and the weakest of us did act as petulant infants, clawing back into His sight. Because we could not master our desire, because we acted on pitiful instinct, because we dared look upon our Maker to fulfill our need and not His, He is lost to us.

But He is merciful while stern, and we remember what we have lost. His second children can learn, grow, and change. If we cannot, then we are no better—and no worse—than His first children.

—From The Word and Challenge of the Chant by Revered Mother Hevara


 Doom Upon All the World
 Codex entry Doom Upon All the World
Number: 82 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Obtained after completing the final story mission,Doom Upon All the World

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.
—Canticle of Threnodies 8:13

There is very little of the infamous Thirteenth Verse that we can take literally. It speaks in the voice of the MakerHimself; since He has never deigned to speak to His children directly, we can rest assured it is a work of fiction. There are facts, however, that support it, at least in part. Records remain from the time prior to the First Blightsaying that, yes, seven magisters did open a portal to enter the Fade physically. These seven—whose true names we have lost either to legend or deliberate obscurement—did so at the behest of the Old Gods, who "whispered from their ancient prisons." We also know that the Golden City, visible from every part of the Fade by any mage at the time, turned black as night the moment these seven breached its gates. Everything else—the accusations of "sin", the suggestion that these seven became the first darkspawn, that they were directly responsible for the Blights to come—all of that is conjecture.

—From Questioning the Chant by Magister Vibus Agorian


 Here Lies the Abyss
 Codex entry Here Lies the Abyss
Number: 83 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Obtained after the events at Adamant Fortress in the story mission Here Lies the Abyss

Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls.
From these emerald waters doth life begin anew.
Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you.
In my arms lies Eternity.
—Canticle of Andraste, 14:11

Chantry sisters have long debated this section of the Chant of Light. It is tempting to assume that the "well of all souls" is a literal well, but such imagery appears nowhere in Andraste's other works. An examination from Threnodies 1:4 yields clues:

From the waters of the Fade you made the world. As the Fade had been fluid, so was the world fixed.

It is possible—even likely—that the "emerald waters" Andraste refers to are the substance of the Fade, which began as an "ocean of dreams" (Threnodies 1:1) and was reduced to a well—bottomless but limited in scope—by the Maker's creation of our world.

Is Andraste urging the listener to come to the Fade? Should we take "From these emerald waters doth life begin anew," as literal evidence of reincarnation—or even of life after death, as the Cult of Spirits suggests—or as a figurative benediction indicating that the Maker is the source of all life, and in finding His embrace for Eternity, we will only be returning our souls from whence they came?

—An excerpt from Reflections on Divinity, by Revered Mother Juliette


 The Wrath of Heaven
 Codex entry The Wrath of Heaven
Number: 84 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Unlocked upon completion of The Threat Remains

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 fact of the earth.
Lightning shall rain down from the sky,
They shall cry out to their false gods,
And find silence.
—Canticle of Andraste 7:19

Who was Andraste? This question has lingered in the ages since her death, not as easily answered as the faithful assume. Born an Alamarri slave in the frontier realm of the Tevinter Imperium, now Ferelden, the Chantsays she is the Bride of the Maker—that He told her in a vision of her role leading the rebellion against the corrupt magisters.

Is it true, or, as some early Andrastian cults believed, did a friendly spirit bestow this "vision"? We must remember that legends of Andraste were multitude in the years immediately following her execution, and beliefs we take for granted belong to the "cult" victorious in suppressing all others. Indeed, even to suggest there was once disagreement was considered the direst heresy... until today, when we have lost even the memory of disagreement. All we know for certain is that Andraste inspired a world gripped by tyranny and chaos, that she helped spark a war which tore all of Thedas asunder.

—From Questioning the Chant by Magister Vibius Agorian


 In Hushed Whispers
 Codex entry In Hushed Whispers
 Number: 85 (+3JoH, +5TD, +11T)
Location: Obtained after completion of the main quest, In Hushed Whispers

Those who had been cast down,
The demons who would be gods,
Began to whisper to men from their tombs within the earth.
And the men of Tevinter heard and raised altars
To the pretender-gods once more,
And in return were given, in hushed whispers,
The secrets of darkest magic.
—Canticle of Threnodies 5:11

The fifth stanza of Threnodies is a complete retelling of the creation story appearing in Stanza One. The authors are clearly different, with notable disagreements on the nature of spirits and the ultimate cause of theSecond Sin. This stanza lays the blame for mankind's corruption squarely on the Old Gods rather than on a flaw inherent to human nature; therefore, historians believe a Tevinter author, perhaps even Archon Hessarianhimself, wrote it.

In the eleventh verse, we see this illustrated most clearly. "The demons who would be gods," can be no one but the Old Gods; they are credited here not only with broaching the Golden City, but with gifting the secrets of magic to humankind. The implication is that without this instruction, these "hushed whispers," no magic would exist.

—From The Chant of Light: Literary Analysis and History by Sister Tessaria

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