Codex: Items

Entries in the Items section of the Codex. These entries are generally obtained when the relevant item first appears in your inventory. Warning: Note that codex location information given below could include spoilers.

The Litany of Adralla
Adralla of Vyrantium dedicated her life to the study of blood magic—the academic study, rather than the practice. A deeply pious mage, she was renowned in her day for having found a counter to every form of mind control, a defense against dream walkers, and even counter-spells to demonic summons.

Her efforts went unappreciated in her native Tevinter, however. After three different magisters attempted to have her killed, she fled the country, choosing to take refuge in the land of Blessed Andrate's birth. She spent the remainder of her days with the Circle in Ferelden.

The Litany of Adralla disrupts the casting of mind control spells. Use the Litany whenever a creature tries to dominate another with magic, and it will interrupt the casting. Once the spell is in effect and a character is under a blood mage's power, it is too late.

Archons of the Imperium
Archon Darinius of Tevinter journeyed deep into the lightless realm of dwarves and there forged a covenant with Endrin Stonehammer, lord of the dwarven empire. As a symbol of their pact, Endrin gave the archon a pair of rings—one that shone like the evening star, and one as luminous as the dawn. So long as the rings were united, Darinius need fear nothing, for the friendship of the dwarves is a mighty sword and shield.

The archon wore the rings of Dawn and Dusk for 20 years, never removing them, and when he died, they were cut from his fingers by magisters squabbling over his vacant throne, then separated, and finally lost.

--From a book formerly in the possession of a hermit.

Havard's Aegis
Havard was Maferath's closest friend. They were children together in the same Avvar Clan. They fought side-by-side in so many battles that Maferath dubbed him, "Havard the Aegis," better to have at his side than any shield.

Maferath brought Havard with him to meet with the Tevinters; it was unthinkable to stand before his enemies without his Aegis.

When he understood that Maferath was giving Andraste over to be executed, Havvard, unwilling to draw swords against his friend and liege, placed himself between Andraste and the Tevinter soldiers. The Tevinters struck him down, and Maferath left him for dead.

But Aegis was not so easily destroyed. Havard lived and Made his way, gravely wounded, to the gates of Minrathous to stop the execution. Too late. He found only the ashes of the prophet, left to the wind and rain. When his fingers touched the ash, his ears filled with song, and he saw a vision of Andraste dressed in cloth of starlight. She knelt at his side, saying, "Rise, Ageis of the Faith, the Maker shall never forget you so long as I remember."

His wounds healed instantly. And with new strength, Havard gathered up Andraste's remains and carried them safely back to the lands of the Alamarri.

Ancient Elven Armor
Before the fall of Arlathan, even before Arlathan itself, the civilization of the elves stretched across all of Thedas like a great, indolent cat.

This armor was made for temple guards in a time when the Creators still spoke to the elves. The techniques of its forging, even the name of the metal it is forged from, have long since faded from memory.

Aodh
Long ago, as soldier from Gwaren was returning home after twenty years at war. He had sold his sword for passage to Denerim and had to make his way through the Brecilian Forest with nothing to his name but a single crust of bread.

On his way, he met an old blind woodcutter sitting on a tree stump. "Here is someone worse off than myself," said the soldier, and he gave the old man his last scrap of bread. The old man blessed him, and gave the soldier his axe in return.

The soldier went on his way, and soon night fell. He made his bed in a tree branch and held the woodcutter's axe at his side to ward against beasts and bandits. When the moon was high, he was awakened by the sound of weeping. "Show yourself!" he shouted, for try as he might, the soldier could find no one nearby.

"Help me," spoke the tree in which he'd been sleeping, "A mage transformed me into this shape, and I will never be set free. If you had any pity in you, you would cut me down so that my spirit could go to the Maker."

So the soldier took up his axe and struck the tree. The cuts bled like wounds, and soon hot blood covered the axe and burned the soldier's hands. But he held tightly to the axe and felled the tree. The tree shattered when it hit the ground, and from the splinters rose a demon, who bowed to the soldier and vanished into the Fade.

The soldier was chilled to the bone, and could not sleep. In the morning, he found that the axe still burned like the blood of the sylvan, but despite its heat, he could not get warm again. They say he ended his days in Gwaren, cutting wood for his seven fireplaces, shivering and cursing the spirits.

Bard's Dancing Shoes
The rules of the Grand Game are clear: Anything goes. If a noble cannot obtain the heights of prestige in the court by purchase, alliance, or deed, he can always obtain it by removing his rivals.

In this, bards have always been invaluable. Orlesians cannot do without music and dancing. Even when they know that half the musicians in their ballroom are spies in the employ of their enemies, they welcome the scoundrels with open arms. In fact, that makes music and musicians so much more popular, for it makes the Game more exciting.

Blood Ring
There are clear signs that this ring was made in the Tevinter Imperium—it's covered in draon motifs, for one thing. And it gives anyone who wears it a slightly uneasy feeling, for another. But beyond that, very little is known about it.

Warriors of House Ivo took this ring in the Blessed Age from the hand of a madman, a surfacer mage who had wandered into the underground and attacked lyrium miners near Orzammar. From there, the ring changed hands many times, until its history had been lost and the dwarves no longer remembered how it had ever come into their lands.

The Bow of the Golden Sun
There is no more famous ruler in history than Kordilius Drakon, first emperor of Orlais. Few, however, know the story of his empress.

Empress Area was the third of Lord Montlaures of val Chevin's famously unmarriageable six daughters. When she met young Prince Kordilius, she was the captain of her father's archers and led the defense of Laures Castle. She was not the fairest of ladies, nor the most elegant or charming, but Area could shoot the wings off a bumblebee at one hundred paces. By all accounts, when the prince witnessed that particular feat, Drakon—who was not noted for his charm or elegance, and rather better known for his sword and shield—was instantly smitten.

On their wedding day, Drakon presented his bride with a golden bow crafted by the mages of Val Royeaux, so that they could ride into battle and spread the Light of the Maker side by side.

Camanae's Barbute
The Waking Sea Bannorn has been famous since time immemorial for its archers. Children there are given bows before they can walk, and parents have been known, on occasion, to disown their offspring for failure to hit bulls-eyes.

When Calenhad came to demand the Waking Sea's fealty, Bann Camenae greeted her would-be king by shooting his horse out from under him half a league from Castle Eremon. Calenhad reached the gates on foot and found them barred, with dozens of archers watching him from the castle walls.

He waited outside the walls with his men until sunset, when Camenae opened the gates and met him, armored to the teeth with her bow in hand. "You have proven you have sense and humility, Theirin. And no man can hope to lead the Bannorn without those gifts." She then knelt and swore her oath.

To this day, the Eremon family of the Waking Sea presents every newly crowned king or queen of Ferelden with two gifts: an arrow and a horse.

Dark Moon
At Shartan's word, the sky

Grew black with arrows.

At Our Lady's, ten thousand swords

Rang from their scabbards,

A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly proclaiming:

Those who had been slaves were now free.

--Shartan 10:1.

They say that Shartan's followers stole whatever they could find to make weapons. They fought with knives of sharpened stone and glass, and with bows made from broken barrels or firewood. This bow was ox horn, made in secret over the course of months by a slave who worked in the slaughterhouses of Minrathous.

The slave's name has been lost to history, and the verses that spoke of his deeds, stricken from the chant, but the weapon endures.

Katriel's Grasp
The Theirin family refused to die.

This was a problem for the Empire, for the stubborn Fereldans would not accept Orlesian rule so long as some vagabond in the woods could call himself their king.

So the Orlesian court sent their agents in Ferelden a gift: A bard by the name of Katriel, to assassinate the surviving Prince Maric.

She did not, of course, succeed, but that's another story.

The Life Drinker
No one knows for certain where this amulet came from. All we have is a legend:

Long before the Golden City turned black, there lived in the Tevinter Imperium a frail old magician in the court of the archon. He was the least among the mages of the court, the lamp-lighter, whose task it was to set all the thousands of candles alight and snuff them again when the archon retired for the evening. He was counted as useless by all the most influential magisters.

But he was only biding his time.

One day, when all the magisters of the Imperium were assembled in the great hall of the archon, the lamp-lighter struck. He conjured a massive fire storm in the hall, trying to assassinate all who were assembled and seize power himself. The court was made up of the most powerful mages of the Imperium, and they worked quickly to destroy the would-be usurper, but found, to their astonishment, their magic was no match for the old mage. Every spell they cast was countered, and the magisters began to fall, one by one, until only the archon himself and the lamp-lighter were left, locked in a battle of magic and will.

The archon saw that with each spell he cast, the lamp-lighter seemed to wither and fade a little more. So he bombarded the mage with spell after spell, until at last nothing was left of the palace but rubble, nothing left of the court but corpses, and nothing left of the lamp-lighter but a golden pendant—this, the archon kept to remind himself that treachery could come from even the most innocuous sources.

The Magister's Shield
On the very day that the final stone was set into place in the Grand Cathedral of Orlais, Archon Vespasian was assassinated. For three days, every magister lord of the Imperium lived behind a wall of armored guards. When his successor, Hadarius, was finally named archon, the first enchanter of the Circle of Minrathous presented him with a gift: a silvery unadorned chain made from pure lyrium. Enchantments had been worked into the links of the chain so that donning this necklace was like holding up a shield: Blows struck at the wearer glanced harmlessly away. Unfortunately, Hadarius found that the shield did not protect him against poison nearly so well.

Shadow of the Empire
The Crows of Antiva may be the most famous and most expensive of Thedas's assassins, but they are not the most active. That dubious honor belongs to the Shadows of the Emperor, the personal cadre of killers employed by the throne of Orlais.

Almost exclusively, the Shadows work against other noble families in Val Royeaux. No one knows who they are, not even the sitting emperor, and some in the court dismiss them as only a myth. The assassins have slipped into aristocratic life working as palace servants, ladies-in-waiting, and, on one notorious occasion, the chamberlain himself.

This armor was made for use by the Shadows whenever the Grand Game should wander out of hand.

The Summer Sword
In 8:84 Blessed, Lord Aurelien of Montsimmard, champion of the Grand Tourney of Ansburg, commissioned a sword for his youngest son Luis, who aspired to the Chevaliers. Insisting that his boy have nothing but the best, Lord Aurelien sought out the most renowned master smith in the Orlesian Empire Vercenne of Halamshiral, who was at that time nearly eighty, and begged the old man to make the blade. Vercenne refused. His sight was failing him and he had no wish to come out of retirement. But Aurelien offered and exorbitant sum of gold, and eventually overcame the artisan's resistance.

The old master labored for several months, folding steel, honing the edge to perfection. The resulting blade was as long as a man is tall, and sharp as the tongue of any noblewoman. Vercenne proclaimed it, in a fit of irony, the "Summer Sword," since he had crafted it in the winter of his lifetime.

Lord Aurelien brought Luis with him to receive the sword from the hand of the old master. When the boy saw the Summer Sword, he turned up his nose at his father's gift: such great two-handed swords were no longer in fashion at court. He preferred an estoc. Aurelien was mortified; he insisted that Luis carry the blade and apologized to Vercenne, but to no avail. The sword smith cursed the boy, saying that for his pride, regardless of blade he carried, he would fail anyway.

Luis was eventually knighted, and joined the ranks of the Chevaliers. In 8:98 Blessed he was appointed command of the Chevaliers in Denerim, and hoped to make a name for himself. And so he did: he was the most detested chevalier in Ferelden, well known for his acts of depravity. In 9:1 Dragon, he met Loghain Mac Tir in battle at Avinash. Luis lost his estoc early in the fighting, became separated from his men, and ended up facing down Loghain himself armed only with the Summer Sword—which he had never before drawn. Practice might have saved him where pride did not. Loghain made short work of the pompous chevalier and took the greatsword as a trophy.

Thorn of the Dead Gods
In the moment that it struck, the blade of the Grey Warden who killed Toth, Archdemon of Fire, shattered into three pieces. After the Battle of Hunter Fell, the Wardens carried their fallen brother to Weisshaupt for a hero's burial, but the broken pieces of his sword were left behind.

For years, the shards lay forgotten on the battlefield. Steel became etched with the corrupted blood of the dead god. They were eventually dicovered by a Nevarran woman, searching among the bones for a sign of her lost son. She sold them to a blacksmith, not knowing what they truly were, for ten bits.

The smith, however, knew that he had purchased more than scrap metal, and fashioned the shards into three identical daggers: the Thorns of the Dead Gods. They left his hands and were scattered to the far corners of Thedas. But everywhere they went, the Thorns left misery and loss in their wake. The woman who unearthed them died soon after of plague. The smith fell into his forge. Each person who has held one of the Thorns, even briefly, has died an untimely death.

Thorval's Luck
Ser Thorval of Rainesfere was the sixth son of a sixth son, a child of ill-fortune. It showed on his 13th birthday, when he narrowly avoided being run over by a cart, only to have a tree fall on him. It showed on his wedding day, when his bride ran off with a roving dwarven tinker.

But nowhere was Thorval's misfortune more obvious than on the battlefield. Although peerless among the knights of Rainesfere and undefeated in the tourneys of Redcliffe and West Hills, Ser Thorval was plagued by loss, for every blade he took into battle broke. Every shield cracked. He won himself honor and acclaim... and a tremendous blacksmithing bill as he sought out stronger blades and sturdier shields to replace his losses.

One day as he rode to a tournament in Denerim, Thorval's horse threw a shoe, pitching the knight head-first into a hollow tree stump. When he came to, he found his nose inches from the heavy steel head of an enormous war hammer. Since his sword, naturally, had shattered in the fall, Thorval took the hammer as a replacement.

It was highly unorthodox for a knight to use a hammer in a tournament, but Thorval won his matches easily. And the hammer even survived. From that day forth, he used no other weapon. When he died many years later, he left the hammer to his sixth son, Anselm, who promptly lost it.

Yusaris: The Dragonslayer
"In the company of monsters he went,

Down the empty wolf-roads after the dragon

To the lands where the ice is like steel,

And the air grows thin as a beggar,

And every rocky path is strewn with the bones

Of the lonely dead. There Dane dwelled,

And fifty swords were worn to rusted ruin

Before at last they found the cave of Fenshal,

Ancient keeper of the mountains, bane of wolves.

Dane sought a way in which the dragon might be felled,

Fiend of fire and talon, its scales

Brighter than any warrior's mail, teeth greater than men,

And all around the slumbering wyrm were bones:

Wolves, men, beasts beyond counting.

The fume of death frightened even the wolf pack,

And Dane, desperate, crept into the cavern

To seek the monster's death alone.

There, shining among the dead like a star

His hand found a sword. Yusaris:

Forged by the dwarf smiths for an Alamarri lord long ago,

Waiting age after age to be taken to battle once more.

And this Dane freed from the earth and struck

At the eye of the dragon, still sleeping,

With a swift, terrible blow.

And Fenshal woke, wroth, only to die.”

—From Dane and the Werewolf.

The legend of the blade Yusaris predates Andraste. The sword that Dane found in the dragon's treasure hoard, which he used to slay both Fenshal and the werewolf, was passed on to his son Hafter.

Dane may have been fiction, but Hafter was fact. In 1:40 Divine, he led the Alamarri tribes against darkspawn that flooded into the Ferelden valley from the dwarven lands. He not only drove back the horde, he also then defeated the combined forces of the Avvars and Chasind who hoped in take advantage of the chaos. His victories earned him such respect from the tribes, he was named the first teryn.

After years of ruling the valley in peace, it is said that Hafter left Ferelden, sailing into the unknown east of the Amaranthine Ocean with the blade still in hand, never to be seen again.