In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, written by Brother Ferdinand Genitivi, was the widest-read publication in Thedas, outside of Tevinter, until it was overtaken by Varric Tethras' serial Hard in Hightown in 9:36 Dragon.[1]
Genitivi is one of the Chantry's most well-known scholars, primarily on the basis of the stories he has published (which many of his contemporaries dismiss as fanciful) of his travels across the length and breadth of Thedas.
Thedas[]
Geography of Thedas
Thedas is bounded to the east by the Amaranthine Ocean, to the west by Tirashan Forest and the Hunterhorn Mountains, to the south by the snowy wastes that lie beyond the Orkney Mountains,[note] and to the north by Donark Forest.
The word "Thedas" is Tevinter in origin, originally used to refer to lands that bordered the Imperium. As the Imperium lost its stranglehold on conquered nations, more and more lands became Thedas, until finally people applied the name to the entire continent.
The northern part of Thedas is divided amongst the Anderfels, the Tevinter Imperium, Antiva, and Rivain, with the islands held by the Qunari just off the coast. Central Thedas consists of the Free Marches, Nevarra, and Orlais, with Ferelden to the south.
What lies beyond the snowy wastes is a mystery. The freezing temperatures and barren land have kept even the most intrepid cartographers at bay. Similarly, the western reaches of the Anderfels have never been fully explored, even by the Anders themselves. We do not know if the dry steppes are shadowed by mountains, or if they extend all the way to a nameless sea.
There must be other lands, continents or islands, perhaps across the Amaranthine or north of Par Vollen, for the Qunari arrived in Thedas from somewhere, but beyond that deduction, we know nothing.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Sexuality in Thedas
What I find most interesting is that, despite the lack of open discussion on matters of human sexuality, there is commonality to be found on the subject in all Andrastian lands. Typically, one's sexual habits are considered natural and separate from matters of procreation, and only among the nobility, where procreation involves issues of inheritance and the union of powerful families, is it considered of vital importance. Yet, even there, a noble who has done their duty to the family might be allowed to pursue their own sexual interests without raising eyebrows.
The view on indulging lusts with a member of the same gender varies from land to land. In Orlais, it is considered a quirk of character and nothing more. In Ferelden, it is a matter of scandal if done indiscreetly but otherwise nothing noteworthy. In Tevinter, it is considered selfish and deviant behavior among nobles, but actively encouraged with favored slaves. Nowhere is it forbidden, and sex of any kind is only considered worthy of judgment when taken to awful excess or performed in the public eye.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Death Watch Beetles
The loud tapping sound of the Death Watch Beetle is widely believed to foretell a death in the household. In Nevarra, the beetle is prized; households sometimes keep one in a small cage for good luck. However, the Rivaini consider them to be an extremely ill omen, and kill the beetles on sight.
The strangest reaction to the Death Watch Beetle, however, happened in Val Royeaux in 8:62 Blessed. Upon the death of her husband after a long illness, Lady Ivaline Fernande took to the beetles, so much that she commissioned a dark silken gown patterned after its distinctive appearance, right down to the legs and wings. Her arrival at the royal court in this ensemble sent a stir throughout the empire. Within a week, every dowager in Orlais was wearing beetle brooches, beetle masks, and capes evoking beetle wings.
The sensation finally came to an end when the Widow of Lord Verchin appeared at a ball with live Death Watch Beetles in her hair. One fell onto the emperor while he was greeting Lady Verchin, and His Imperial Majesty's scream could clearly be heard on the outskirts of the city. The horrified emperor declared that never again were the creatures to appear in his sight.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Ferelden[]
Geography of Ferelden
The kingdom of Ferelden is the southernmost civilized nation in Thedas—although some scholars dispute that claim to civilization. It is perhaps the most physically isolated of all the kingdoms of Thedas: To the east is the Amaranthine Ocean, to the north the Waking Sea, and to the south the Korcari Wilds, which in the summer months are a vast peat bog, and in the winter become a treacherous labyrinth of iced-over waterways. The Frostback Mountains guard the western border, and only a narrow plain between the mountains and the sea allows travel between Ferelden and Orlais.
Most of the land in the central portion of the kingdom, called the Bannorn, is open plains. These are crossed by the remnants of an ancient Tevinter highway that once connected Val Royeaux with Ostagar, on the edge of the Korcari Wilds. The western part of Ferelden is dominated by Lake Calenhad, a huge caldera filled by the runoff of glaciers from nearby mountains. Lake Calenhad is home to the famed fortress of Redcliffe, as well as the Circle Tower, which houses Ferelden's Circle of Magi.
In the east is the vast Brecilian Forest, which the superstitious locals profess to be haunted, and from which rises the Dragon's Peak, a solitary mountain that guards the capital city of Denerim.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Dogs in Ferelden
I am frequently asked, during my travels in other lands, to explain the dogs omnipresent in Ferelden. Inevitably, I tell my foreign questioners that there are no more dogs in my homeland than in their own. In every civilized corner of Thedas, an astute observer will notice dogs employed in hunting game, keeping barns and storehouses free of vermin, herding livestock, guarding homes, and even used as beasts of burden in the mountains. It is simply that Fereldans show appreciation for the work that our dogs do. And perhaps the reason for that is tangled up in mythology.
Hafter, the first man to be named teyrn, the hero who united our Alamarri ancestors to drive back the darkspawn of the second Blight, was reputed to be the son of a werewolf. Now, perhaps this was meant to be some comment on his temperament, or simply a way of making a great man even larger than life. But more than half the noble families of Ferelden claim to be descendants of Hafter, and consequently, many of our people believe they have some distant kinship with wolves. It is only good manners to be polite to one's kin.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Denerim[]
Going to the City
- From Codex entry: Denerim
When anyone in Ferelden speaks of "going to the city," they inevitably mean Denerim. There is no other place in the kingdom which rivals it: Not in size, population, wealth, or importance. It is the seat of the Theirin family, the capital of Ferelden, the largest seaport, and, by ancient tradition, the meeting place of the Landsmeet.
As well, Denerim was the birthplace of Andraste. One of them, anyway, as several other sites claim to have been the prophet's early home, including Jader, in Orlais. The Chantry takes no stance on which site's claim is valid, but it is well known that Andraste was Fereldan by birth. When visiting the pilgrimage site in Denerim, it is inadvisable to mention Jader at all.
The city rests at the foot of the Dragon's Peak, a solitary mountain scarred by ancient lava flows. During Andraste's lifetime, it reputedly filled the sky with a great column of black ash and sent burning rock raining down as far away as the Free Marches, but it is now considered extinct. Some believe it merely sleeps, and will again darken the sky with ash and fire when the last Fereldan king dies, but this is highly unlikely.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Fallow Mire[]
Granite Point
Some statues in the Fallow Mire are of Avvar origin. It amused Bann Hargrave to bring them back from her conquests in the hills and plant them outside her home, the way a gardener might transplant flowers. The bann entertained visiting nobles by giving tours of the statues, regaling her guests with dark tales of Avvar superstitions, which she mostly made up on the spot.
Lothering[]
Lothering Village
In ancient times, Lothering was little more than a trading post that served the fortress of Ostagar to the south. Nowadays, it is larger, serving Redcliffe and the community of merchants and surface dwarves near Orzammar. Its location on the North Road gives it strategic value, so control of Lothering has historically been a matter of contention between the Southern Bannorn and the South Reach Arling. King Calenhad himself stepped in and awarded the town to South Reach in the Exalted Age, which has largely ended the feud, or at least the appearance of it.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Redcliffe[]
The fate of all Ferelden
King Calenhad Theirin once famously declared, "The fate of Redcliffe is the fate of all Ferelden." Certainly, the castle is the first and last defense for the sole land route into Ferelden, and the country has never fallen to any force that did not first capture Redcliffe.
The castle, which despite being three times captured is popularly described as "unassailable," also guards one of the largest and most prosperous towns in Ferelden. Redcliffe village is well situated near the mountain pass to Orzammar and the Orlesian border, and so serves as a center of foreign trade. For these reasons, Redcliffe is accounted an arling despite the smallness of the domain.
The inhabitants of Redcliffe village are primarily fishermen or merchants who ship dwarven goods through the pass from Orlais to Denerim. When the entire village smells of smoked fish on certain late autumn mornings, the merchants in their finery do their utmost to pretend otherwise.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
The Storm Coast[]
The Coast
I cannot say whether the Storm Coast receives more inclement weather than any other stretch of northern Fereldan coastline. That hasn't stopped the region from boasting more than its fair share of tragic tales. If all are to be believed, rich merchant ships blanket the depths due to the follies of their proud captains. The infamous—and likely fictional—pirate, Denel of Salle, gave up the sea to become a Grey Warden while standing on these shores, and countless young women pine for grooms lost to the waves.
I witnessed nothing so fanciful on my brief sojourn to the coast. However, the area is sparsely populated, and as I watched the Waking Sea strike the shore, I could see why such tales are born.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi
Resources found here: Spindleweed, Blood Lotus, Black Lotus, Serpentstone, Summer Stone.
West Hill[]
Blighted Werewolf
When a man in West Hill told me about his encounter with a blighted werewolf, I was inclined to believe him. Although werewolves may be abominations of a sort—wolves possessed by rage demons, or so the story goes—it is true that their bodies still live. The Blight is known to corrupt bears and wolves in addition to humans, elves, and dwarves, so it is conceivable that any living creature, even a werewolf, is at risk.
The man saw the beast ambush a bear, springing from the shadows with such speed that it seemed a blur. The bear was dead within seconds.
I thank the Maker that I have never even seen a run-of-the-mill werewolf. I am sure I never want to encounter one that is blighted.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
The Anderfels[]
A Land Filled With Wonders
The Anderfels are a land of shocking extremes. It is the most desolate place in all the world, for two Blights have left great expanses of the steppes so completely devoid of life that corpses cannot even decay there—no insect or grub will ever reach them.
It is a land filled with wonders like the Merdaine, with its gigantic white statue of Our Lady carved into its face, her hands outstretched and bearing an eternal flame, or Weisshaupt Fortress, with its walls of living rock towering over the desolate plains below.
The Anders, too, are a people of extremes: The most devout priests and the most deadly soldiers, the poorest nation in the world and the most feared.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Absolution
Antiva doesn't have a monopoly on assassins. The bleak Anderfels have produced some of the most ruthless killers in the world, and in the capitol of Hossberg, there are never fewer than ten in the service of their king. They served only the king, and the politics of the Anderfels are a brutal affair. Among the pious, the most dangerous thing a man can do is disgrace himself, for the king sends his killers not for those who plot to overthrow him, but for those who break the Maker's laws and fall into sin and decadence. In the Anders, this is called absolution, not assassination. Death is the sinner's act of penance.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Antiva[]
Merchant Princes
- From Codex entry: Antiva
In the rest of the civilized world, it is common belief that Antiva has no king. I assure you, gentle readers, that this is untrue. The line of kings in Antiva has remained unbroken for two and a half thousand years—it is simply that nobody pays any attention to them whatsoever.
The nation is ruled in truth by a collection of merchant princes. They are not princes in the literal sense, but heads of banks, trading companies, and vineyards. Their power is conferred strictly by wealth.
But Antiva is not primarily renowned for its peculiar form of government, nor for its admittedly unparalleled wines. Antiva is known for the House of Crows. Since Antivans are well known for being good at everything but fighting, it is more than a little ironic that Antiva possesses the most deadly assassins in the world. Their fame is such that Antiva keeps no standing army: No king is willing to order his troops to assault her borders, and no general is mad enough to lead such an invasion. The attack would likely succeed, but its leaders would not see the day.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi
Queen Asha
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 of Orlais 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: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
The Free Marches[]
"Marchers"
The Free Marches are not a kingdom, nor even a nation in the most basic sense. People from that region dislike even being lumped together as "Marchers." Rather, they are a collection of independent city-states united only when it suits them; in this respect, they resemble the Bannorn before the arrival of King Calenhad. Because of this, the Free Marches have no capital, and what passes for a central government exists only sporadically, a sort of Landsmeet that convenes only during times of crisis.
I arrived in time for the Grand Tourney while it was on in Tantervale—a remarkable sight indeed. I saw Avvar hillsmen test their mettle against Orlesian Chevaliers, riders from the Anderfels buying Nevarran cavalry horses, Antivan craftsmen selling their wares to Tevinter mages. All of Thedas was on display.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
The Celebrant
The Grand Tourney is the oldest, and perhaps only, tradition of the Free Marches. On those rare, one-in-a-thousand days when a Contest of Arms may be called, every Marcher unites in fellowship to witness the birth of a new champion.
Contestants come from all over Thedas. Minrathous alone always sends no fewer than two dozen entrants hoping to claim the honor for the Imperium. Once, the champion was an Avvar mountain man. Twice in a row, it was Talisa of Sundarin, a lady knight from the Anderfels—which scandalized the crowd, created endless drama amongst the participants, and therefore got her declared the "Most-Loved Champion in the History of the Tourney".
Each champion is presented a crown of sage leaves and a sword. The leaves wither, of course, as a reminder that all victories are fleeting, but the blade, Celebrant, endures and has passed from champion to champion since the first, inscribed with the names of each victor, a reminder that legend is eternal.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Kirkwall[]
The City of Kirkwall
Kirkwall once lived on the edge of the Tevinter Imperium and was home to nearly a million slaves. Stolen from elven lands or shipped from across the sea, all slaves fed the Imperium's unquenchable thirst for expansion. They worked in massive quarries and sweltering foundries that produced stone and steel for the Empire.
The city's complicated past is not easy to forget, history having earmarked many corners of the stone city. A ship approaching the harbor spots the city's namesake: an imposing black wall. It is visible for miles, and carved into the cliff side are a pantheon of vile guardians representing the Old Gods. Over the years, the Chantry has effaced many of these profane sentinels, but it will take many more years to erase them all.
Also carved into the cliff is a channel that permits ships into the city's interior. Flanking the channel are two massive bronze statues—the Twins of Kirkwall. The statues have a practical use. Kirkwall sits next to the narrowest point of the Waking Sea, and a massive chain net can be erected between the statues and the lighthouse, closing off the only narrow navigable lane. This stranglehold on sea traffic is jealously guarded by the ever-changing rulers of the city as the net trolls taxes, tolls, and extortions in from the sea.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
The Gallows
Statues of tortured slaves fill the Gallows courtyard, a ghastly memento of Kirkwall's history. Fifteen-hundred years ago, Kirkwall was the Tevinter Imperium's largest quarry, feeding the construction of the Imperial Highway.
The Imperium's hunger for expansion led to legions of slaves forced into working the quarry. When the empire's construction phase ended, Kirkwall slid naturally into its new role as the capital of the slave trade—the Gallows at its heart.
The statues are not monuments to the suffering of slaves. Every inch and angle of the courtyard was designed by magisters bent on breaking the spirit of newcomers. Executions here took place daily, sometimes hourly, and corpses were hung from gibbets throughout the yard. New slaves trudging in from the docks saw what awaited them.
When Our Lady turned her armies against the Imperium, the slaves of Kirkwall revolted and claimed the city for themselves. The Gallows stood empty for two hundred years, not to be reopened until the crowning of Divine Justinia I. The Gallows transformed the city again when the abandoned prison tower became the home of Kirkwall's Circle.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
The Elven Alienage
Lowtown is home to a squalid elven alienage. Here, like in most Thedas alienages, elves are packed into tiny rundown apartments and effectively segregated from the human population.
Kirkwall's alienage is even more dilapidated than the rest of Lowtown, but the elves go to great lengths keeping the place looking bright and festive. The vhenadahl ("Tree of the People") standing in the middle of the alienage is a symbol for elven pride and shared cultural identity, and it is lovingly cared for.
It's difficult to say if the elves would continue confining themselves to the alienage if they were given the chance to mingle. They may not admit it, but some feel that living among their kind is far better than living with humans, no matter how terrible alienage life may be.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Darktown
Darktown was once a mine controlled by the Tevinter Imperium. Once exhausted, the mineshafts were extended under the city to dispose of sewage from Kirkwall's overcrowded population of slaves.
Unsurprisingly, the tunnels became a refuge for those fleeing captivity. A similar trend continues today. The "Undercity," as some call it, is home to the diseased, the insane, to criminals, and even the dead—unwanted corpses are often discarded here by murderers and lazy undertakers.
Darktown's slums makes Lowtown look pleasant in comparison. The foul miasma known as chokedamp clogs and swells in every corner of the Darktown, creating a poisonous mist. Its sewers are a dangerous place. The walls are damp, slick, and coated with phosphorescent lichen. The sewer is a maze, and one foolish enough to enter is not likely to be heard from again.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Lowtown
Lowtown sits in a massive cauldron-shaped pit that was once Kirkwall's first quarry. The district was constructed by slaves who carved the city and its harbor out of the rock.
Today, Lowtown is a labyrinth of shantytowns, corridors, and hexagonal courtyards—"hexes" in the local parlance. Lowtown's poorest live in caves hewn out of the cliff face. The district is shoddily built and bears scars caused by collapsing walls. Foundry smoke smothers the area. Only a cold winter storm clears the air, but the icy wind howling over the mouths of old mineshafts hardly counts as relief.
Occasionally, these Darktown shafts erupt with gouts of foul air known as chokedamp. It's not uncommon to find whole slums silently suffocated, frozen in the midst of everyday activity.
The walls surrounding Lowtown are highest by the harbor. Its busiest street leads up to Hightown, where the wealthiest Kirkwallers perch. When one stands in Lowtown, all one sees other than the rocky walls is Hightown. It glitters overhead, always in sight, yet always beyond reach.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Hightown
At the height of the Tevinter Imperium's slave trade, Kirkwall's elite prospered beyond dreams of avarice. Hightown was built for the wealthiest slavers, its glitzy mansions rising atop a great wall of rock that borders, on one side, the Waking Sea. Lowtown cowered on its other side until Kirkwall's slaves rose to plunder and destroy Hightown's riches.
Today, Hightown's prominent buildings are the Keep, home to the ruling viscount, and the chantry, home to the grand cleric and the city's religious center. Both are converted estates that once housed wealthy magisters, rebuilt and converted after the uprising.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Starkhaven[]
The City of Starkhaven
Kirkwall is guarded by mountains to it north, the tallest of which is Sundermount. The mountain has a fearsome reputation. Legend says it was the site of the final battle between the Tevinter Imperium of old and the ancient empire of elves that perished with Arlathan. Both sides unleashed horrors into the waking world, and Fade creatures prowl the heights to this very day, unaware that the war for which they were summoned is long since over.
There is a tale in the Free Marches that Blessed Andraste, upon reaching Kirkwall with her armies, sojourned up the slopes of Sundermount alone. She stayed there three days. When she returned, she wept as if her heart were broken.
I stayed two months in Kirkwall, and despite my best efforts, I never found a guide willing to take me up the mountain.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Sundermount[]
On Sundermount
Kirkwall is guarded by mountains to it north, the tallest of which is Sundermount. The mountain has a fearsome reputation. Legend says it was the site of the final battle between the Tevinter Imperium of old and the ancient empire of elves that perished with Arlathan. Both sides unleashed horrors into the waking world, and Fade creatures prowl the heights to this very day, unaware that the war for which they were summoned is long since over.
There is a tale in the Free Marches that Blessed Andraste, upon reaching Kirkwall with her armies, sojourned up the slopes of Sundermount alone. She stayed there three days. When she returned, she wept as if her heart were broken.
I stayed two months in Kirkwall, and despite my best efforts, I never found a guide willing to take me up the mountain.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Wounded Coast[]
The Wounded Coast
One of the few roads leading into Kirkwall passes through a dangerous area known as the Wounded Coast. The road winds close to the cliff edge that looms over waters with many a precipitous drop to the churning waves below. There's many a local legend involving travelers falling, or jumping, or having been flung from those heights.
From the cliffs, the road leads through jagged hills that line the pass like sharp teeth. Bandits use these hills as cover from which to ambush caravans. There's more to fear here than bandits, of course. Once one leaves the hills, you come upon a maze of sharp canyons, the hunting grounds for many fierce creatures. It is a place of secrets dating back to the golden age of the Tevinter Imperium, where Ancient relics and statues crumble in time with the rocks.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Nevarra[]
On Nevarra
- From Codex entry: Nevarra
The fourth time I attempted to cross the border into Nevarra from Orlais and was turned back by Chevaliers, I decided to take the more roundabout path: a ship back to Ferelden, and then another to Nevarra. The outcome was more than worth the trouble.
The whole country is filled with artistry, from the statues of heroes that litter the streets in even the meanest villages to the glittering golden College of Magi in Cumberland. Perhaps nowhere is more astonishing than the vast necropolis outside Nevarra City. Unlike most other followers of Andraste, the Nevarrans do not burn their dead. Instead, they carefully preserve the bodies and seal them in elaborate tombs. Some of the wealthiest Nevarrans begin construction of their own tombs while quite young, and these become incredible palaces, complete with gardens, bathhouses, and ballrooms, utterly silent, kept only for the dead.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
The Perendale War
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: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Orlais[]
Emprise du Lion
The ancient name of these craggy highlands has long been lost to time. When the first Valmont emperor was crowned in the Exalted Age, the mountains were renamed Emprise du Lion to honor the House of Valmont, which bears a lion upon its crest.
Wandering through these remote hills, I discovered remnants of a forgotten past, mingled delightfully with signs of the present. Charming villages dotted the landscape, and, scattered among them, relics of the lost elven nation. Young women sold wild berries at a market nestled in the shadow of a sinister, crumbling fortress, which may once have been the seat of a Dalish lord. Children played in fields, watched over by the silent statues of gods whose names they did not know. I walked quiet lanes bordered with wildflowers, the high arches of an ancient bridge soaring above me, majestic even in their ruin.
Sadly, my time in the mountains was short, and I soon continued on to Halamshiral. I found myself thinking back on the Emprise du Lion, however, and how gracefully she bore the passing of the ages. I wondered what the future held and dreamed of how it might leave its mark. Whatever comes can only add to her beauty: delicate lines on the face of a gentlewoman, which speak of a life well-lived.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi
Resources found here: Elfroot, Black Lotus, Rashvine, Rashvine Nettle, Arbor Blessing, Felandaris, Bloodstone, Dawnstone, Silverite.
The Ruined Highway
- From Landmarks in the Emprise
The Ruined Highway
The villagers of Sahrnia know little about the ruined highway standing above their home. Children play below its arches, oblivious to the danger the crumbling structure poses. Judging from its age, and the statues adorning its pillars, I would conjecture that it dates from the golden age of the Tevinter Imperium. It is an imposing sight, one I am glad to have seen.
The Lion's Pavilion
- From Landmarks in the Graves
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The Lion's Pavilion
The Lion's Pavilion is a welcome rest for weary travelers through the Dales. Its most prominent feature is a statue of a muscled Valmont emperor slaying a dragon—the symbol of the Drakon dynasty. The Valmonts' famed subtlety and grace clearly emerged with later generations.
The Black Fox
In Orlais, they say there are ten of these rings, one for each finger, and that the Black Fox was never without a single one. Some claim each represented a conquest; others: that they were reminders of secrets the he kept; still others: that they carried an inscription that, if all the rings were assembled as one, told the location of the Black Fox's stronghold.
Many nobles in Val Royeaux have claimed to own one or more of the rings, but nobody has ever found them all. Their secret, if there is one, is safe to this day.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Brother Joffrey of Ghislain
In 4:25 Black, Lord Joffrey of Montfort left the life of a courtier behind, citing irreconcilable differences with Lady Chantal of Val Chevin. He traveled to a small abbey outside Ghislain and took orders as an initiate of the Chantry.
From his cell, Brother Joffrey penned innumerable meditations on the nature of sin and the forgiveness of trespasses, most of which he sent to Lady Chantal.
In 4:40 Black, the Chantry declared the first Exalted March to end the heresy in Tevinter. Brother Joffrey celebrated the occasion by writing a series of letters to the chantry in Minrathous, denouncing their scandalous behavior and urging them to better themselves. Although none of his letters were answered, Brother Joffrey was undeterred—he continued writing to the Minrathous Chantry, suggesting in the strongest possible terms that they apologize to the Divine at once, as she was really quite upset.
Upon his death in 4:52 Black, the brothers of the Ghislain abbey found Joffrey's humble cell stacked with copies of his letters from floor to ceiling. The Divine officially recognized his efforts on behalf of the Chantry in 4:57 Black, when his correspondence was moved into the archive of the Grand Cathedral.
The skeletal hand of Brother Joffrey, still clutching his pen, is kept in a reliquary in Ghislain abbey to this day. There are several documented cases of people being overwhelmed by a desire to apologize after touching it.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
The Orlesian Great Bear
The Orlesian great bear is so named because it is very large. Very large, indeed. Other names for it include the colorful "Old Man of the Forest" and the less-charming, but more clearly descriptive "Woodsman's Death." I am told that they are only found in remote parts of the Dales and that not even the nobility is willing to hunt for them, which makes them unique among the rare, giant, deadly, exotic fauna of Thedas: the only thing the Orlesians are truly afraid of.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi
Researched: Damage Against Beasts Increased
The Phoenix
- From Codex entry: Phoenix
Orlesians believe the phoenix to be a herald of woe, perhaps because the creatures frequent inhospitable places where sane travelers fear to tread. It may also be because they belch a sort of sulfurous gas that reeks of rotten eggs and ancient peat bog, and flocks of the beasts have a pervasive odor of death about them. Orlesians are not always so metaphorical as they like us to believe.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi
Researched: Damage Against Beasts Increased
Rivain[]
An Outsider in Rivain
- From Codex entry: Rivain
Nowhere in my travels, not in the heart of the Imperium nor the streets of Orzammar, have I felt so much an outsider as in Rivain.
The Chant of Light never truly reached the ears of these people. The years they spent under the thumb of the Qunari left most of the country zealous followers of the Qun. But resistance to the Chant goes deeper than the Qunari War. The Rivaini refuse to be parted from their seers, wise women who are in fact hedge mages, communicating with spirits and actually allowing themselves to become possessed. The Chantry prohibition against such magical practices violates millennia of local tradition.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Dwarven lore[]
The City of Orzammar
The dwarves are lauded for their craftsmanship, and the city of Orzammar is one of their finest works. Orzammar lies at the heart of the Frostback Mountains, deep underground. The city arcs outward from the royal palace, which is built around a natural lava vent, continually fountaining liquid rock, which both lights and heats the entire cavern.
The topmost tier of Orzammar is home to the noble caste, with their palaces fanning out in both directions from the court of the king, as well as the Shaperate, which serves as a repository for all dwarven knowledge.
The lower tier is the Commons, where the merchant caste holds sway and where the finest works of Orzammar's craftsman are for sale. In the center of the river of lava, connected to the Commons by a causeway, are the Proving Grounds, a sacred arena where the dwarves, by ancient tradition, settle their disputes.
On one side of the fiery river are the ruins of old dwarven palaces, fallen into disrepair, which the locals call Dust Town, now home to the city's casteless. On the other side of the river are the Deep Roads, which once joined the sprawling dwarven empire together, but now, after centuries of darkspawn incursions, are largely sealed off. Nearly all knowledge of this network of underground passages has been lost, even to its builders.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Life in Orzammar
The dwarves of Orzammar are quite unlike those found in most human cities. Although Orzammar derives its vast wealth from trade with human kingdoms, all dwarves who come to the surface to trade are stripped of their position in society. Dwarven merchants are so ubiquitous in human cities that many people labor under the impression that all dwarves are merchants, or that their whole race worships coin and trade. But these surface dwarves are atypical creatures, the ones willing to give up all ties to their kin and sacrifice their rank in order to conduct business.
Below ground, the dwarves are a people obsessed with honor--their own, and that of their family. Most nobles incorporate chainmail even into formal gowns, because slights and insults often turn deadly.
They are a people who revere excellence and strive to achieve it in all things. Even members of the Servant Caste have been elevated to Paragons, usually posthumously, in recognition of remarkable service.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Orzammar Politics
As dangerous as it is to mistake a dwarf's caste, it is far more deadly to mistake his alliances among the noble houses of Orzammar. Everyone in the city is allied with someone, whether by blood or by word. The nobles do not engage directly in commerce themselves, as that is the domain of the Merchant Caste, but they do serve as patrons. They invest in shops or in artisans' work, and in turn reap a share of the profits as well as a measure of the credit. Merchants and warriors alike benefit from the service of a prestigious patron.
The relative power of each house is ever-changing. It is usually safe to assume that whichever noble house holds the throne is at the top of the heap, but below that, things grow into a tangled mess. Houses ally with one another by marriage. They earn rank and prestige when combatants loyal to them, or from their own bloodlines, win Provings. They earn it when artisans they patronize become sought-after or well regarded, or when the merchants they invest in become successful. The degrees of power that these achievements confer is so murky, even to the dwarves, that it isn't unusual for nobles to challenge each another to Provings over whose smith forges better belt buckles, or whose servants have the best manners. Nor is it out of the ordinary to find two merchants arguing over whose noble patron has won the most acclaim, for the rank of the patron is the rank of the client.
Nowhere is this more apparent than in the Assembly, where the deshyrs, representatives of each noble house, meet. Although the king technically rules Orzammar, kings are elected by the Assembly, and so each king must work constantly to maintain the support of the deshyrs. Kings who prove unpopular find their heirs deemed unacceptable to inherit the throne. Power then passes to another house.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
The Castes
Visitors to Orzammar should keep in mind that the hierarchies of dwarven society are much more complex than our own. It is easy to gravely insult a man simply by mistaking his position. Since this can lead to unnecessary loss of life and limbs, I will attempt to mitigate the danger for my fellow travelers.
The society of Orzammar is divided into nobles, warriors, smiths, artisans, miners, merchants, and servants. Now, you are undoubtedly saying to yourself, "We have all those divisions among our own people." This is a dangerous misconception. Certainly, we do have nobility, artisans, merchants, and these positions are largely inherited from our parents. However, the younger children of noblemen often choose to be artisans or soldiers. The sons of merchants may join the army, or become servants, or apprentice themselves to a craftsman. This is all freely chosen. Limited, perhaps, by the circumstances of birth, but still chosen.
What is a matter of choice for most human folk is dictated entirely by birth for dwarves. No one may become a smith who was not born to Smith Caste parents. A servant who marries a noblewoman will never be a noble himself, and although his daughters would be nobles, his sons would be servants, for daughters inherit the caste of their mother, while sons inherit the caste of their father.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Dwarven Faith
- From Codex entry: Dwarven Faith[2]
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The Ancestors
The Chant of Light is almost never heard in the halls of Orzammar. This is hardly surprising, for, unlike the elves, who were literally abandoned by their gods, or the Tevinters, who worshipped dragons, the dwarves have no gods at all.
Even the concept of worship is foreign in Orzammar. Instead, the dwarves seem to venerate "the Stone," a name they give to the earth itself. This seems practical for a people living underground, if perhaps a bit unimaginative.
For guidance in spiritual matters, they turn to their ancestors. These ancestors, who are said to have returned to the Stone, communicate their wishes to the living via brutal trials-by-combat called Provings. The ancestors' collective wisdom is maintained by the Shaperate, which can apparently store records in lyrium itself.
Set above the ancestors, above even kings, are the Paragons—dwarves who have achieved such greatness that they are elevated almost to godhood. These are the great figures holding up the hallway that leads from the surface, the first glimpse of Orzammar that outsiders see.
The Coterie
Kirkwall is built on a solid foundation of greed and human suffering, and its underworld is a place where everything is for sale and everyone is fair game.
There are many criminal empires within the city, some of which have been around since the Imperium used Kirkwall as a hub in the slave trade. Alliances, spying, manipulation, betrayal, and open warfare is all commonplace in the never-ending struggle for power.
The Coterie is a thieves' guild that has been around for almost a century, but until recently was never a major player in the underworld. Some twenty years ago, the strongest of the local criminal empires was an ancient guild known as the Sabrathan, but its leader was betrayed from within, and during the turmoil the Coterie made a successful grab for power.
Since then, they've sunk their claws into almost every level of Kirkwall, including the city guard, the Dwarven Merchants Guild, and some of the most influential citizens in the city. It's safe to say that the Coterie gets a slice of every pie, and very little goes on in Kirkwall that escapes their notice.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Dwarven Runecraft
Within the Diamond Quarter of Orzammar lies the Shaperate, a branch of dwarven society so ancient that the dwarves themselves do not know when or where it began. They are the keepers of history for a people who have never known the sun or seasons, and who track time by the lives and deaths of kings. But they are not mere historians. They are craftsmen. For the living history of the dwarves is not written, but forged. "The Memories," as the dwarves call their records, are runes painstakingly crafted from lyrium which contain the actual thoughts of the Shapers who made them.
The making of runes is not restricted solely to the Shapers. The most commonly useful kind are crafted by many members of the Smith Caste from lyrium and other magically reactive metals and can imbue a variety of fascinating new properties to an item when properly applied, just as the runes of Tevinter design do. But runes are found everywhere in dwarven artwork and not all serve a practical purpose - at least, not one that's known. They are carved onto houses and store fronts. They are embroidered on garments. Etched in glassware. Even painted on chamber pots.
The meanings of the symbols themselves are sacred knowledge kept by the Shaperate. They are not, as many surface-folk believe, the written language of the modern dwarves, but rather are remnants of a lost language that predates Orzammar, the dwarven kingdom, and even the tens of thousands of years of history recorded in the Memories. The Shaperate recognizes the meanings of a few dozen dwarven runes. "Memory," obviously, is used for their record keeping. Many have not so much been translated as inferred. Runes which decorate both armor and load-bearing architecture might very well mean "Strength" or "Endurance." New symbols are unearthed now and then in the fallen thaigs, brought back by the Legion of the Dead and jealously hoarded by the Shapers who struggle to find their uses and origins. Were these symbols an earlier version of the written dwarven tongue? A language that fell into disuse, replaced by the modern King's Tongue? It is hard to guess, and the Memories offer us no wisdom.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi
Elven lore[]
The Dalish Elves
- From Codex entry: The Dalish Elves[3]
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The Dalish
I took the road north from Val Royeaux toward Nevarra with a merchant caravan. A scant two days past the Orlesian border, we were beset by bandits. They struck without warning from the cover of the trees, hammering our wagons with arrows, killing most of the caravan guards instantly. The few who survived the arrow storm drew their blades and charged into the trees after our attackers. We heard screams muffled by the forest, and then nothing more of those men.
After a long silence, the bandits appeared. Elves covered in tattoos and dressed in hides, they looted all the supplies and valuables they could carry from the merchants and disappeared back into the trees.
These, I was informed later, were the Dalish, the wild elves who lurk in the wilderness on the fringes of settled lands, preying upon travelers and isolated farmers. These wild elves have reverted to the worship of their false gods and are rumored to practice their own form of magic, rejecting all human society.
Offering to the Dread Wolf
- From Landmarks on the Plains
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A fresco of the Dread Wolf
The Dalish believe that Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, locked the gods of good and evil away; only he walks free. Although they see him as a betrayer, elves still erect shrines to Fen'Harel. One imagines they do not revere him so much as seek to appease him, lest they draw his gaze.
The Knight's Guardian
- From Codex entry: Knight's Guardian
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Elven Heraldry
Traveling through the Emerald Graves in the Dales, one will see dozens of carven stone wolves. The Dalish call these the Knights’ Guardians. In the days of elven Halamshiral, wolf companions walked alongside Emerald Knights, never leaving the side of their chosen knight. Wolf and elf would fight together, eat together, and when the knights slept, wolves would guard them. The statues were erected in memory of their unbreakable bond.
—An excerpt from In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi
Vallasdahlen
Elves have their heroes, just as we do; they honor the Vallasdahlen—Life-Trees—of these legendary figures. Planted in remembrance of those who dedicated their lives to the Dalish kingdom, these trees grew into a mighty wood, a testament to the elves' force at their height.
Walk beneath the Vallasdahlen with reverence; remember that each of them once had a name.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi
The Dalish believe Mathalin was the first of the Emerald Knights, and the first to hold Evanura, the blade of honor, forged in Halamshiral for his hand.
Tanaleth was a smith and the High Keeper of June; she spent her years rediscovering the arts of Arlathan.
Briathos protected the Dales from human incursion. When humans sent missionaries and templars, he turned them away.
Vaharel conquered the human city of Montsimmard.
Lindiranae was the last to hold the blade Evanura. With her fell the Dales; the sword was lost.
Dalish revere Elnora for her tireless work reviving the magical arts of lost Arlathan.
Ralaferin was a great lord of elven Halamshiral. The Ralaferin tribe existing today believes they descend from him.
Calmar was Elnora's apprentice and First, and friend to the halla.
Sulan was Mathalin's squire. He walked always with a wolf at his side.
Vallaslin
- From Codex entry: Vallaslin: Blood Writing[4]
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Vallaslin
After my encounter with the Dalish elves on the road to Nevarra, I studied every book on the elves I could find. I sought out legends and myths and history and tried to make sense of it all. But there is only so much one can learn from books. I knew that in order to truly understand the Dalish, I would have to seek them out—a dreadful idea, in hindsight. In my defense, I was young—and also inebriated when the idea popped into my head. Unfortunately, even after I had regained some measure of sobriety, the idea still held appeal. It proved remarkably resistant to my attempts to ignore it.
I gave in after months of that nagging thought at the back of my head and set out to learn about the Dalish first-hand. I tramped through the forests bordering Orlais for weeks before I finally found—or was found by—a Dalish hunter. I stumbled into one of his traps and suddenly was hanging from a tree with a rope about my ankles.
So there I was, defenseless, upside down with my robe over my head, my underclothes on display. Descriptions of my predicament might elicit laughter these days, but trust me when I say it was a situation I would not wish on anyone. Thankfully, my ridiculous appearance may have caused my captor to stay his hand—what threat is a silly human with his pants showing?
And so he sat, made a small fire, and began to skin the deer he had caught. I soon mustered the courage to speak. I tried to assure him that I was not there to harm him—but he laughed at this and replied that if I were there to harm him, I had failed terribly. Eventually we got to talking, and when I say talking, I mean that I asked him questions, and occasionally he would deign to answer.
He told me that while some Dalish actively seek out human travelers to rob or frighten, most of his people would rather be left alone. He seemed to believe that punishing the humans for past actions only led to more violence. I asked him about the intricate tattoos on his face; he told me they were called vallaslin—"blood writing." His were symbols of Andruil the Huntress, one of the most highly revered elven goddesses. He said the Dalish mark themselves to stand out from humans and from those of their kin who have chosen to live under human rule. He said the vallaslin remind his people that they must never again surrender their beliefs.
When he finished skinning the deer, he cut me down. By the time I had righted myself and conquered the dizziness of all the blood rushing out of my head, he was gone.
I do not recommend that my readers seek out the Dalish for themselves. I was very lucky to have met the man that I did, and to have walked away from our meeting unscathed. Perhaps the Maker watches over those who seek knowledge with an open heart; I certainly would like to think so.
Aravels
- From Codex entry: Aravels[5]
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Aravels
The Dalish, who band together in small groups of blood relatives, travel in ornately carved wagons known as aravel, drawn by large white stags called halla. The aravel are a unique sight, beautiful in their swooping curvature, and adorned with broad hoods and bright silken cloths that flap in the wind, often displaying the noble banners that once flew over that family's house. Most humans refer to the aravel as "landships," for in a strong wind it can often appear as if the elves travel in long boats with sails high overhead to announce their arrival (or warn others away). The halla are unique to the elves, and any but elven handlers consider them ornery and almost impossible to train. To the Dalish, they are noble beasts, superior in breeding to the horse. Certainly most humans would agree that the halla are as beautiful as the elves themselves; the fact that many imperial nobles maintain a bounty on halla horns that find their way into Tevinter is an affront the Dalish consider unforgivable.
Few among us can claim to have seen the Dalish landships up close. Any human who sees them on the horizon does well to head the other way. Few Dalish clans take kindly to humans intruding on their camps, and more than one tale tells of trouble-making humans who found themselves mercilessly filled with Dalish arrows.
Qunari lore[]
The Qunari
- From Codex entry: The Qunari (Origins)
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Sten Concept Art
Anyone who travels far enough to the north will eventually encounter the Qunari: White-haired, bronze-skinned giants, a head again taller than a man, with frighteningly calm demeanors and a sort of sparkling fire behind their eyes.
For quite a long time, people believed that all Qunari were male, or that their men and women were simply indistinguishable. It was not until the Blessed Age that diplomats from Rivain were allowed, however briefly, to visit Par Vollen, and there they discovered that Qunari females do exist in abundance, and are quite easily recognized. The Rivaini say that Qunari have a certain kindness to them, or at least a conspicuous lack of cruelty, although I did not observe the creatures closely enough to evaluate their character.
Tal-Vashoth
Being lost in an ancient Tevinter ruin in northern Rivain is highly overrated.
And then I found myself beset by several bands of Qunari, apparently working in concert. I fled and managed to hide in a little village by the name of Vindaar. The people there, mostly humans and a few elves, were devout followers of the Qun.
It was the most organized village I ever laid eyes on. The houses were identical and arranged along perfectly orthogonal lines. The fields were well tended and apparently communal. But there were signs of damage everywhere, as if the town had suffered repeated sieges: buildings shattered, fields burned, and a great many empty houses. I spent the night in the home of Vindaar's matriarch, who introduced herself only as, "Seer." When I tried to regale my hostess with the tale of my Qunari assailants, I discovered something.
Qunari, Seer said, are people who follow the Qun. Her people. Those born into Qunari society who reject the Qun are called Vashoth, which means "gray ones." These gray ones must leave their homes, for they have no place among the Qunari. Sadly, many turn against the society that cast them out.
These outcasts call themselves Tal-Vashoth, "the true gray ones." Often, they have no skills to make an honest living, so they sell themselves into service, usually becoming mercenaries. Even the most inept fighter among the Qunari race possesses prodigious size and an intimidating visage. These, she informed me, were my attackers in the countryside, the same band that wreaked such havoc on Vindaar.
The Tal-Vashoth wage a bitter war against the Qun, the Qunari, and sometimes against order itself. They are no match for the Qunari army, so they generally strike at farms, travelers, and those who stray too far from Qunari protection. I was lucky to escape with my life.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Imperium lore[]
The Tevinter Imperium
The Imperium is little more than a dilapidated old slattern, crouching in the far north of Thedas, drunkenly cursing at passersby to recall her faded beauty.
One can see that Minrathous was once the center of the world. The vestiges of her power and artistry yet stand. But they are buried in the layers of filth that the Imperium's decadence has accumulated over the ages. The magocracy live in elegant stone towers, literally elevated above the stench of the slaves and peasants below. The outskirts of Minrathous are awash in a sea of refugees turned destitute by the never-ending war between the Imperium and the Qunari.
And yet the Imperium survives. Whether with sword or magic, Tevinter remains a force to be reckoned with. Minrathous has been besieged by men, by Qunari, by Andraste herself, and never fallen.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Tevinter Society
To those outside of the Tevinter Imperium it is easy to imagine a society filled with mages and elven slaves and little else. In truth, there are three different Tevinters, each of them a world completely separated from the others. There are the mages, the land's nobility, completely obsessed with competing for supremacy with each other—almost to the exclusion of paying any heed to the nation's enemies, such as the Qunari. The well-bred altus sneer at the laetans, who in turn sneer at the praeteri. They vie for dominance in the Magisterium, where factions shift and flow on a daily basis with deadly consequences, requiring every family to put on a veneer of perfect citizenship or face scandal and censure.
Then there are the so-called soporati, the "sleepers." These are the non-magical citizens who vastly outnumber the mages, yet are beholden to their whims. Many are resentful of this status, plotting in secret, even as they secretly hope their children will possess magical talent—an enticing lure, since the talent could conceivably show up in anyone, even a slave. It would be easy to forget that Tevinter possesses a massive class of publicans, the civil servants and leaders of the Legionnaires. It has an enormous merchant class, enough teeming poor to drown any other nation in Thedas, and the shadowy thieves called "praesumptor" who are practically treated with respect.
And then there are the slaves. One would think they, at least, see each other as equals, but it is not so. The divide between the freed liberati, those who act as personal servants to magisters, those who work on farms and factories, and the "servus publicus" who do all the tasks proper citizens will not—it is all but insurmountable, but perhaps in emulation of those who own them, Imperial slaves will connive and scheme to try anyhow. Outsiders might see it as futile, but to Tevinter citizens, their nation's social classes are the most mutable and rewarding of merit in all of Thedas.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi
The Lost City of Barindur
On the fifteenth day of my journey across the Tevinter Imperium, our caravan reached a great rolling plain. Swaying grass hid flocks of birds so vast that when they took flight, their numbers blocked the sun. This, our guide informed us, was the great city of Barindur, wonder of the ancient world, famed for its fountains which were said to grant eternal youth.
Legend has it that during the celebration of the winter solstice, Carinatus, High King of Barindur, turned away an envoy from the High Priest of Dumat. The priest called upon his god to punish Carinatus for the offense, and the Dragon-God of Silence answered him.
Months passed. The Kingdom of Barindur fell silent. In distant Minrathous, the priests of Razikale dreamed of dark omens. Their oracles declared that a dire fate had befallen King Carinatus. Finally, the fearful High King of Minrathous sent a company of soldiers to Barindur.
The men reported that the road which led across the northern plains ended abruptly. They walked for leagues over barren, empty rock where the Kingdom of Barindur had once been. All of it swept from the face of the world by the hand of a god.
Not a single stone of Barindur remains, and nothing of the once-powerful city has ever been found. A secret now, that can never be told.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi
Circle lore[]
The Harrowing
Among apprentices of the Circle, nothing is regarded with more fear than the Harrowing. Little is known about this rite of passage, and that alone would be cause for dread. But it is well understood that only those apprentices who pass this trial are ever seen again. They return as full members of the Circle of Magi. Of those who fail, nothing is known. Perhaps they are sent away in disgrace. Perhaps they are killed on the spot. I heard one patently ridiculous rumor among the Circle at Rivain, which claimed that failed apprentices were transformed into pigs, fattened up, and served at dinner to the senior enchanters. But I could find no evidence that the Rivaini Circle ate any particular quantity of pork.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
Lyrium
- From Codex entry: Lyrium (Origins)
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Liquid lyrium
More than half the wealth of Orzammar comes from a single, extremely rare substance: Lyrium. The Chantry believes it to be the "Waters of the Fade" mentioned in the Canticle of Threnodies, the very stuff of creation itself, from whence the Maker fashioned the world. Only a handful of Mining Caste families hazard extracting the ore, finding veins in the Stone quite literally by ear. For in its raw form, lyrium sings, and the discerning can hear the sound even through solid rock.
Even though dwarves have a natural resistance, raw lyrium is dangerous for all but the most experienced of the Mining Caste to handle. Even for dwarves, exposure to the unprocessed mineral can cause deafness or memory loss. For humans and elves, direct contact with lyrium ore produces nausea, blistering of the skin, and dementia. Mages cannot even approach unprocessed lyrium. Doing so is invariably fatal.
Despite its dangers, lyrium is the single most valuable mineral currently known. In the Tevinter Imperium, it has been known to command a higher price than diamond. The dwarves sell very little of the processed mineral to the surface, giving the greater portion of what they mine to their own smiths, who use it in the forging of all truly superior dwarven weapons and armor. What processed lyrium is sold on the surface goes only to the Chantry, who strictly control the supply. From the Chantry, it is dispensed both to the templars, who make use of it in tracking and fighting maleficarum, and to the Circle.
In the hands of the Circle, lyrium reaches its fullest potential. Their Formari craftsmen transform it into an array of useful items from the practical, such as magically hardened stone for construction, to the legendary silver armor of King Calenhad.
When mixed into liquid and ingested, lyrium allows mages to enter the Fade when fully aware, unlike all others who reach it only when dreaming. Such potions can also be used to aid in the casting of especially taxing spells, for a short time granting a mage far greater power than he normally wields.
Lyrium has its costs, however. Prolonged use becomes addictive, the cravings unbearable. Over time, templars grow disoriented, incapable of distinguishing memory from present, or dream from waking. They frequently become paranoid, as their worst memories and nightmares haunt their waking hours. Mages have additionally been known to suffer physical mutation: The magister lords of the Tevinter Imperium were widely reputed to have been so affected by their years of lyrium use that they could not be recognized by their own kin, nor even as creatures that had once been human.
The Tranquil
- From Codex entry: The Tranquil[6]
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Tranquil Concept Art
The Tranquil are the least understood but most visible members of the Circle. Every city of respectable size boasts a Circle of Magi shop, and every one of these shops is run by a Tranquil proprietor.
The name is a misnomer, for they are not tranquil at all; rather, they are like inanimate objects that speak. If a table wished to sell you an enchanted penknife, it could pass as one of these people. Their eyes are expressionless, their voices monotone. Incomparable craftsmen they might be, but they are hardly the sort of mages to put ordinary folk at ease.
Chantry lore[]
The First Inquisition
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 Order of Fiery Promise
Consider the time in which the original Inquisition existed. The First Blight had devastated the world, tearing down the mighty Tevinter Imperium and leaving nothing in its place. Just as there were several cults of Andraste vying to become the true inheritor of the prophet's faith, there was more than one group claiming to represent the one true path to deliver the world from chaos. The Order of Fiery Promise was one of these, a band of men and women who decreed that not only was the end of the world nigh, it was necessary.
Thedas must be cleansed with fire and reborn as a paradise. This they solemnly promised; they devoted themselves utterly to seeing this come about. Whether they ever drew closer to their goal is unknown.
The Inquisition eventually crushed these "Promisers" during a battle only recorded as the "Cleansing of Churneau." The cult reappeared in the early Divine Age, claiming to take up the Inquisiton's mantle after it had transformed into the Seekers of Truth, leading to Chantry hunts that did not see the Promisers eliminated again until the Exalted Age.
—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi
References[]
- ↑ Dragon Age: The World of Thedas, vol. 2, p. 159
- ↑ Codex entry: Dwarven Faith is sourced by Brother Genitivi if the Warden is not of dwarven origin.
- ↑ Codex entry: The Dalish Elves is sourced by Brother Genitivi if neither the Warden or the Inquisitor are of Dalish origin.
- ↑ Codex entry: Vallaslin: Blood Writing is sourced by Brother Genitivi if the Warden is not of Dalish origin.
- ↑ Codex entry: Aravels is sourced by Brother Genitivi if the Warden is not of Dalish origin.
- ↑ Codex entry: The Tranquil is sourced by Brother Genitivi if neither the Warden, Hawke or the Inquisitor are a mage.