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m (Juggernaut - Codex (Books/Songs))
 
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<onlyinclude>{{CodexTransformer
{{CodexTransformer
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|style = {{{style|}}}
|style = {{{style|}}}
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|excerptonly = {{{excerptonly|}}}
|excerptonly = {{{excerptonly|}}}
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|name = Death of a Templar
|Name = Death of a Templar
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|image = Templar corpse brecilian forest.png
|Number = 200 (+1[[The Stone Prisoner|TSP]], +6[[Warden's Keep|WK]])
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|px = 270px
|Category = Codex: Books And Songs
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|number DAO = 200 (+1[[The Stone Prisoner|TSP]], +6[[Warden's Keep|WK]])
|Location = [[The Village of Haven]] in a book next to a house
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|category DAO = Books and Songs
|See also =
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|location DAO = A book next to a house in [[the Village of Haven]]
|further info = [[File:Book_Codex_207.jpg|thumb|left]]
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|category DA2 = Lore
|text=
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|location DA2 = '''Act 1:''' A book in the [[Gallows Courtyard]] behind the armor and weapon shops <br> '''Act 2:''' A book on [[Aveline Vallen|Aveline]]'s desk in the [[Viscount's Keep|barracks]] <br> '''Act 3:''' A book in [[Merrill's Home]] near the fireplace
The dry, dusty earth swallows up salty drops that splatter its surface. A tiny insect pauses, sensing the vibrations, and scurries off, leaving behind its invisible energy. As the drops fall, the dark circles merge together, expressing a mirror to their creator.
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|appearances = [[Dragon Age: Origins]] <br> [[Dragon Age II]]
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|further info =
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<gallery>
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Book_Codex_207.jpg|Location in ''Dragon Age: Origins''
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</gallery><br><br>DAO Console entry (requires getsetplotflag): cod_bks_death_templar 0 1
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|text =
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The dry, dusty earth swallows up salty drops that splatter its surface. A tiny insect pauses, sensing the vibrations, and scurries off, leaving behind its invisible enemy. As the drops fall, the dark circles merge together, expressing a mirror to their creator.
   
 
The primal emotions of bloodlust and sorrow blend into a lethal cocktail that breaks the strongest of men. The jurisdiction of strength must be left to the spirit, not arm nor chest. Only the wisest turn to His inner sanctuary to partition the mind from an all-consuming madness. Seductive voices whispering promise of glory waiting down the weaker path of the flesh, bringing a death far worse than that of hot lead or steel. These blank, hollow promises will echo the unfathomable eternally.
 
The primal emotions of bloodlust and sorrow blend into a lethal cocktail that breaks the strongest of men. The jurisdiction of strength must be left to the spirit, not arm nor chest. Only the wisest turn to His inner sanctuary to partition the mind from an all-consuming madness. Seductive voices whispering promise of glory waiting down the weaker path of the flesh, bringing a death far worse than that of hot lead or steel. These blank, hollow promises will echo the unfathomable eternally.
 
 
   
 
Living comfortably amongst material possessions, it is easy to misunderstand the true meaning of uncontrollable hate. Failing to understand the power of fighting against pure, unfaltering beliefs, against foes that listen only to their soul. Uncontrollable hate. Influenced and thus removed from innocence. The scar is permanent and internal.
 
Living comfortably amongst material possessions, it is easy to misunderstand the true meaning of uncontrollable hate. Failing to understand the power of fighting against pure, unfaltering beliefs, against foes that listen only to their soul. Uncontrollable hate. Influenced and thus removed from innocence. The scar is permanent and internal.
 
 
   
 
The rain, now red, feeds the debt owed for actions passed. Seeking further into the earth, as the mind draws slower. What was it that drew him, himself to this situation? The mind ebbs and parts to a lingering memory of true innocence. He entered war as a newborn enters the world, unknowing of both the horrors and light of the Maker that will save him.
 
The rain, now red, feeds the debt owed for actions passed. Seeking further into the earth, as the mind draws slower. What was it that drew him, himself to this situation? The mind ebbs and parts to a lingering memory of true innocence. He entered war as a newborn enters the world, unknowing of both the horrors and light of the Maker that will save him.
   
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The sound of metal sliding along leather comes from above him. From the second he was born, to his soon-to-be dying breath, his mind was processing and analyzing knowledge and experiences. It is true that he thought he could be wise in his own eyes, but only the most humble recognizes that he knows very little. Bias, speculation and all of false pretenses make way to the sound of the sweeping steel, and then finally, his soul, as ready as his eyes dry from this final understanding, enters His promise of its purist form.
   
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''-- From ''Death of a Templar'', by Ser Andrew, Knight of [[Andraste]] and [[Templar Order|Templar]] Archivist, 9:4 Dragon.''
   
The sound of metal sliding along leather comes from above him. From the second he was born, to his soon-to-be dying breath, his mind was processing and analyzing knowledge and experiences. it is true that he thought he could be wise in his own eyes, but only the most humble recognizes that he knows very little. Bias, speculation and all the false pretenses make way to the sound of the sweeping steal, and then finally, his soul, as ready as his eyes dry from this final understanding, enters His promise of its purist form.
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}}</onlyinclude>
 
 
 
''-- From ''Death of a Templar'', by Ser Andrew, Knight of Andraste and Templar archivist, 9:4 Dragon.''
 
   
}}
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[[es:Entrada del códice: Muerte de un templario]]
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[[Category:Dragon Age: Origins codex entries]]
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[[Category:Chantry (sources)]]
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[[Category:Dragon Age II codex entries]]

Latest revision as of 05:16, January 21, 2019

Codex text

The dry, dusty earth swallows up salty drops that splatter its surface. A tiny insect pauses, sensing the vibrations, and scurries off, leaving behind its invisible enemy. As the drops fall, the dark circles merge together, expressing a mirror to their creator.

The primal emotions of bloodlust and sorrow blend into a lethal cocktail that breaks the strongest of men. The jurisdiction of strength must be left to the spirit, not arm nor chest. Only the wisest turn to His inner sanctuary to partition the mind from an all-consuming madness. Seductive voices whispering promise of glory waiting down the weaker path of the flesh, bringing a death far worse than that of hot lead or steel. These blank, hollow promises will echo the unfathomable eternally.

Living comfortably amongst material possessions, it is easy to misunderstand the true meaning of uncontrollable hate. Failing to understand the power of fighting against pure, unfaltering beliefs, against foes that listen only to their soul. Uncontrollable hate. Influenced and thus removed from innocence. The scar is permanent and internal.

The rain, now red, feeds the debt owed for actions passed. Seeking further into the earth, as the mind draws slower. What was it that drew him, himself to this situation? The mind ebbs and parts to a lingering memory of true innocence. He entered war as a newborn enters the world, unknowing of both the horrors and light of the Maker that will save him.

The sound of metal sliding along leather comes from above him. From the second he was born, to his soon-to-be dying breath, his mind was processing and analyzing knowledge and experiences. It is true that he thought he could be wise in his own eyes, but only the most humble recognizes that he knows very little. Bias, speculation and all of false pretenses make way to the sound of the sweeping steel, and then finally, his soul, as ready as his eyes dry from this final understanding, enters His promise of its purist form.

-- From Death of a Templar, by Ser Andrew, Knight of Andraste and Templar Archivist, 9:4 Dragon.

Further information



DAO Console entry (requires getsetplotflag): cod_bks_death_templar 0 1
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