Codex: Books and Songs

Codex Entry 188: Aveline, Knight of Orlais
Aveline was born to an Orlesian farmer near the city of Halamshiral in the early half of the Storm Age.She was a large and ugly baby, and her father had hoped for a boy. Not wanting another mouth to feed, the farmer left Aveline in the woods to die from exposure. But a traveling band of Dalish elves came upon the crying child.

The elves took her into their clan and raised her as their own. They taught her archery, dueling and survival skills. When she came of age, she was larger and stronger than most women, let alone elven women. Her adoptive parents knew that she was a fine warrior, so they encouraged her to enter a human tournament in nearby Montisimmard. But women were not permitted to join the knighthood in Orlais, nor to compete in a tournament, so Aveline joined the tournament as a man. Her clan forged a suit of armor with a full helm and gave her an ironbark sword of the finest quality.

Aveline entered the competition claiming to be a knight of Antiva. She refused to doff her helmet, even during the archery competition. And sure enough, Aveline bested many other knights until, in the grand melee, she came upon Kaleva, a knight who served the emperor and was considered the finest in the land.

Kaleva was determined not to be beaten, and struck swiftly and strongly. As Aveline matched each of his blows, Kaleva grew ever more frustrated. Finally, in desperation, he tripped Aveline and threw her to the ground. The blow knocked her helm from her head, and Kaleva was shamed. He called to have the competition declared invalid, but the crowd booed and jeered. In anger, Kaleva turned and slew Aveline as she lay helpless.

The son of the emperor, Prince Freyan, was also present at the tourney. He too had been beaten by Aveline, but he recognized her skill and bravery and was saddened by the injustice of her death. Upon rising to the emperor's seat in 7:44 Storm, Freyan abolished the law that disallowed women from joining the Orlesian knighthood and posthumously knighted Aveline. Although women in the Orlesian knighthood are still a rarity today, all those who do become knights revere Ser Aveline as their patron.

-- "Aveline, Knight of Orlais," by Lord Francois Maigny, 8:4 Blessed.

Codex Entry 189: Ballad of Ayesleigh

the wind that stirs

their shallow graves

carries their song

across the sands

heed our words

hear our cry

the grey are sworn

in peace we lie

heed our words

hear our cry

our names recalled

we cannot die

when darkness comes

and swallows light

heed our words

and we shall rise

-- From the Ballad of Ayesleigh, said to have been written after the Battle of Ayesleigh, which ended the Fourth Blight, 5:20 Exalted.

Codex Entry 190: Meditations and Odes to Bees
Oh, fair damsel of the garden,

Arlessa of honeysuckle and rose,

I humbly beg your gracious pardon

For the offense that here arose.

Surely your work is far too vital

To be interrupted by one like me

I am in no way entitled

To earn the notice of a honeybee.

I was a fool to pluck that flower

For my lady fair. On my honor I

Swear to bring you dozens more within the hour

If you give me leave to try.

Listen traveler, if you would walk the garden paths some spring:

Mind that you don't trespass, for the gardeners do sting.

-- Anonymous

Codex Entry 191: Adventures of the Black Fox
Born Lord Remi Vascal in 8:63 Blessed, the Black Fox was a dashing thief and rogue who went on to inspire so many tales of his exploits that it is nearly impossible to determine today which are true and which are merely fabricated legend. Despite coming from nobility, he has become something of a hero of the common people.

His initial exploits involved ridiculing the tyrannical and powerful lord of Val Chevin. Wearing a mask, he would appear in public and disrupt the lord's plans to the point that the lord angrily put a huge bounty on the life of "this cunning fox" (the origin of the nickname, which stuck). That the primary bounty hunter who took the job, Karolis, ended up becoming Remi's lifelong partner in crime (only after nearly killing him several times) is one of the most popular tales told in taverns today. The story is often exaggerated to make Remi appear initially buffoonish, until Karolis becomes so furious at the Black Fox's inexplicable ability to survive that the cunning Remi gains the upper hand, which impresses Karolis so much that the bounty hunter joins him.

After years of terrorizing the lord's men and foiling his tax collectors (a favorite pastime of Remi's, according to the Orlesian commoners), Remi was supposedly betrayed by his lover Servana de Montfort (in some versions of the tale a mage of the Circle, no less) and was captured. After more than a year of torture, Remi was rescued from prison by his compatriots (including a repentant Servana), and together they escaped Orlais. In this period of Remi's adventures, he appears almost everywhere in Thedas: As his legend grew, more innkeepers and merchants were happy to claim that the Black Fox had visited their village or establishment and performed some legendary feat.If the tales are to be believed, Remi led the lord's men on a merry chase. He became embroiled in political intrigue in Nevarra, was hunted by the Crows of Antiva, and then kidnapped by a powerful mage in Tevinter. In each situation, Remi escaped death at the last moment, foiled the evil-doer, and improved life for the poor and downtrodden. Then, inevitably, he rejoined his band of adventurers and moved on to the next land. His companions Karolis and Servana, the wise dwarf Bolek, and the tempestuous knight Ser Clementis have each spawned their own individual legends over the years.

The stories all agree that, at some point, the Black Fox disappeared: He and his fellow adventurers voyaged into the heart of the Arlathan Forest seeking the sunken city of the elves and never returned. Many more are the tales that expand on what ultimately happened to them in that forest and postulate on how they could someday be rescued.

-- From the Adventures of the Black Fox, by Gaston Gerrault, 9:11 Dragon.

Codex Entry 192: The Holy Brazier
The brazier that stands atop the stairs in the great hall of our temple has always been something of a mystery to us. This is the brazier that created the beings we call the ash wraiths. This is where Andraste's followers immolated themselves and became the eternal guardians of Her temple.

I have painstakingly pieced together information from old books and from the tales and half-truths passed down to us by our forefathers. I believe I now understand the ritual used to create the wraiths. The brazier was lit with a consecrated taper, its flame taken from the everlasting fire that long ago consumed Andraste Herself. The chosen disciple would fast and pray for weeks, taking into his body nothing but a sip of water a day. When the disciple was finally ready, he would place in his mouth a flawless black pearl, and step into the flames. In ancient Tevinter, black pearls were thought to be magical, able to stop the soul from passing through the Veil when held in the mouth at the moment of death.

Thus, Andraste's disciples consigned themselves to the eternal flame; they became dust and ashes, and rose again and again to protect the most Beloved of the Maker.

-- From the journal of Father Kolgrim.

Codex Entry 196: Caridin's Journal
940, 45th day, 5th year of the reign of King Valtor: I have done it. The vision the ancestors gave me has come to fruition. Today a man sat up from my forge, a man of living stone and steel. I called him golem, for the legend of those great statues animated by the dead. They are our future and our salvation.

940, 60th day, 5th year of the reign of King Valtor: It is a horrific process. Not every man could do such a thing and survive with his mind intact. I am honored that the ancestors believe I have the strength to bear this burden and forge Orzammar's defenders.

Nothing so great may be achieved without sacrifice. Nor may stone and steel walk without a spirit to animate them.

940, 73rd day, 5th year of the reign of King Valtor: I have asked for volunteers. Some few answered, men of the Warrior Caste, younger sons with no property, no chance for marriage. They want to defend Orzammar from the horrors these humans have unleashed. They want to live forever in a body stronger than the finest armor. They do not ask to speak with those who have gone before.

I have put off saying this, even in these pages. But I must say it now. My golems will be powered by their deaths. These brave warriors come to me, naked as the day they were born. I dress them in a skin of armor, so large it makes the burliest look no more than a babe, the anvil their first and final cradle.

We are surrounded by a mile of earth on all sides. No one hears the screams as I pour molten lyrium through the eyeholes, the mouth, every joint and chink in the armor. They silence quickly, but the smell lingers, just a trace of blood in the greater stench of hot metal. I must work fast. The armor is malleable now, as I shape it with hammer and tongs.

It is not long before it moves beneath my hands, writhing and twisting with every blow. It speaks again now, a low moan, but I have learned to tune it out. I can afford no error in this craft. There can be no melted slag blinding the eyes, nor an unhewn bit of granite shackling the leg. They groan at my work, but would they rather be broken, crippled? Those I have spoken to tell me of the pain, but could they see themselves, they would see perfection.

-- From the journal of Caridin.

Codex Entry 216: Traditional Dwarven Folk Songs
Nug sits in the mud

Nug wiggles his ears

You catch the nug, he slips away!

Nug gets to live another day!

Nug sits in the mud

Nug wiggles his toes

You hook the nug, he slips away!

Now the nug runs off to play!

Nug sits in the mud

Nug wiggles his nose

You tickle the nug, he laughs away!

Now the nug sits on my plate!

-- "Nug Pancakes," a well-loved dwarven nursery rhyme.