My men will arrive as soon as possible to bolster your forces. Maker willing, this Blight will be ended before it has begun.
Cailan, I beseech you, as your uncle, not to join the Grey Wardens on the Field. You cannot afford to take this risk. Ferelden cannot afford it. Let me remind you again that you do not have an heir. Your death--and it pains me even to think of it--would plunge Ferelden into chaos.
And yes, perhaps when this is over you will allow me to bring up the subject of your heir. While a son from both the Theirin and Mac Tir lines would unite Ferelden like no other, we must accept that perhaps this can never be. The queen approaches her thirtieth year and her ability to give you a child lessens with each passing month. I submit to you again that it might be time to put Anora aside. We parted harshly the last time I spoke of this, but it has been a full year since then and nothing has changed.
Please, nephew, consider my words, and Andraste's grace be with you.
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Pile of Rubble in first area after ascending to this level:
I have the utmost sympathy for what happened to your charge, but it is beyond the Cicle's ability to anticipate every obscure demise that an apprentice might face, especially involving methods outside the already extensive realm of magical study. We simply don't have the room for additional training facilities, and there are concerns about becoming too inclusive that I will not elaborate on. Your request is denied.
—First Enchanter Sinclair
Pile of Books in next room after escaping from the Fade:
If space is your excuse, I will surrender my quarters. If it is about money, I will hire the appropriate people. I will not graduate another student ignorant of weapons that any ditch-digger can shove into his ribs. We teach them to append ridiculous glamours on parade arms, but they don't know simple steel. That is criminal.
—Enchanter Bergin
Pile of Books in room with Blood Mage and Charmed Templars:
Notice herewith that the exercise area on the fourth floor shall serve as permanent berthing for the templar garrison stationed at the tower. Since facilities that accommodate their particular training requirements are already on hand, they will be assuming an even closer watch over Circle affairs. Enchanter Bergin's optional weapons training is canceled until further notice. Enchanter Bergin has additionally stepped down from teaching duties.
Uldred will show us the way. Finally, recognition within the Circle and freedom from the scornful eye of the templars. We will not be shunned. Be ready.
--Enchanter Gravid, Libertarian
The time is drawing near. Uldred has brought his intentions to light and a confrontation is all but inevitable. We will separate or walk with our brothers, but we will be free.
--Enchanter Boson, Libertarian
If blood must be shed and used, so be it. I will follow when he calls. The yoke must be released, whatever the cost.
--Enchanter Prist, Libertarian
I have spoken to him directly. His intentions are that we will demand the templars withdraw. I don't know that I am willing to follow, but I will be present to hear his argument.
--Enchanter Fonst, Aequitarian
Madness! I doubt blood will be of use to you if it is flowing down the tower steps. Step away from this folly, before it consumes us all.
--Enchanter Luvan, Loyalist
The call is made. We will stride out of here with pride in our step, regardless of outcome. This is for the good of the circle. Uldred will see to it.
--Libertarian Rhonus
I followed another apprentice through supposed secret maneuvers today, and exposed her tendency towards blood magic. The environment of the tower is such that certain modes of thought are encouraged, both for good and ill. The students think we toy with them. The truth is far more intricate and directed. Deviant traits must be exposed early, or the whole of the Circle suffers.
Uldred has been very helpful in identifying the markers to look for. His skills at misdirection are admirable. I daresay that the apprentices would be shocked at his ability to manipulate them. I must organize a retreat such that the other enchanters can benefit from his skills.
—Excerpt from the journal of First Enchanter Irving
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Templar Drass, your remarks in front of the recruits are only the latest in a series of troubling events. I am beginning to suspect that you may not be suited to the devotional requirements of training. Perhaps it is time for a personal evaluation of your career path within the templars. I will schedule some time after the current deployment to discuss options elsewhere in the organization.
--Attendant Cerand, assistant to Knight-Commander Greagoir
(A note is scribbled in the corner.)
"Attendant who? Options? Code for dead-end duty on a hedge-mage hunt in the Bannorn."
Arguments between the various fraternities have become more frequent and heated. I have alerted the College of Magi in Cumberland that this needs to be addressed in coming debates, but I fear relations with the Chantry may distract them. I am confident that I can appease the Aequitarians and Loyalists, but the Libertarians are proving divisive. Are the Isolationists even interested in speaking?
The threat of Blight has actually served some good in unifying us under a common cause, but it does not bode well that any given table in the Great Hall is likely to be ideologically weighted against its neighbor. We can be such a moody bunch staring over our tea.
--Excerpt from First Enchanter Irving's notes on unity
A collection of embarrassing personal communications between the spoiled wealthy and their objects of obsession.
*****
My darling Reginald,
I burn for you and because of you. Please use the enclosed tincture if our love is to endure.
--Sarie
*****
To Wareth Lowstone,
Age, race, height. I care not for the differences others perceive. But matching your helmet to my tunic for the amusement of standing in line with your new "Silent Sisters" invite attention to where none was desired. I will not suffer your company again.
--Alison Highover
(Scribbled below)
Gonna miss knocking heads with those girls.
*****
A delicate matter,
While I am overwhelmed at the prospect of having you, an unwelcome guest requires that you excuse yourself by the postern of my estate to avoid a mark upon our reputations.
--"M"
*****
Miss Ambrose,
A long, slow grind, the motion careful, aided by generous application of oils. Size is no concern with my equipment, and I am always mindful when stuffing, not risking a burst before every order is fulfilled. My meat goes hand in hand with satisfaction.
Your interest astounds, but it is not my to question a customer's choice in nighttime reading. Three pound sausage again next week? No cheek, of course.
Yours,
--Biller's Butchers
*****
Darling,
When next we meet, I would find it agreeable for you to leave your hat on. And mayhap your boots as well. And trousers. Shirt too. And I shall facilitate said clothed status by locking my door and posting a guard. Duly warned?
--"X"
*****
My elfroot,
The herbalist suggested powdered bronto horn. I was very discrete.
--Your sunflower
*****
Donogan,
On pain of death, you are
Now warned! My father found
The letters you previously
Sent, and is watching as I write
To tell you our relations are
Over! We must remain chaste.
--Patricia
*****
You are filthy! A beast! Such depravity I have never been forced to suffer! How words are so laden when they leave your lips they are beyond decent imagining!
Madam, I love you.
--Ser Augold
*****
My dearest Virginia Trueroyal,
Regarding: Bodice ripped
Enclosed are seven silver and my most heartfelt apologies for said bodice. I would blame the cold ocean spray, the loss of my favorite shirt, the bucking of the stallion, or perhaps the strain of maintaining all such elements while sitting for a portrait, but I was certainly not myself. I hope you will forgive me and not take it upon yourself to find your own determined way in this world.
Yours,
--Ser Rival Grouseman
*****
Dear Ser Jon,
Your ministrations, while well intentioned, hold no promise. Do not despair, for it is not you, it is of me. I require and interval to acquaint myself with the personage you awakened. I'm certain we can maintain an amiable accord and the engagements with our mutual associations will not be awkward.
--"Mari"
*****
To one's paramour,
When last we embraced, one noticed the redolence of another's company, but one was unmindful.
--His Most Eminent Ser Fether Hapsmith Osvald III
*****
My love,
I long to dance you beneath the moonlight, our hearts beating like the paired wings of a dove, in concert with the glory of the Maker and the beauty of the world that we must shepherd in his absence. Join me in a purity that will last the ages, when the brothers mark the Chant of Light anew.
With all my soul,
--Erec Denolven
(Scribbled below in a delicate hand)
Otter's pocket! He's earned it tonight!
Binding the First Corpse Walker
Let the dead no longer serve your whim.
Bound by your true name, no mortal hand shall reach you.
Cale Viazagat, revenant and perversion of an only son.
Death beyond death is no longer your stepping stone through the Veil.
Andraste hold you, demon, and bind your rage for eternity.
(Six thumbprints in blood mark the end of the text.)
Binding the Second Corpse Walker
Cast from your host, may you find no purchase on mortal ground.
Bound by your true name, as we are sworn to do.
Nethamas Bigal, revenant and perversion of a fine daughter.
No more will you test the Veil, nor reach the Fade to escape.
Andraste hold you, demon, and bind your rage for eternity.
(Six thumbprints in blood mark the end of the text.)
Binding the Third Corpse Walker
This realm denies you, abomination, for taking our dearest.
We are united against your kind, and bind you by your true name.
Argruth Massaad, revenant and perversion of a treasured mother.
No more shall fall; no more shall need to stand.
Andraste hold you, demon, and bind your rage for eternity.
(Six thumbprints in blood mark the end of the text.)
Binding the Fourth Corpse Walker
You deny our dead their rest, and so you also will be hounded.
Let the strength of our union bind you by your true name.
Quametha Kagat, revenant and perversion of an honored father.
Though no spirit cage will undo what was suffered.
Andraste hold you, demon, and bind your rage for eternity.
(Six thumbprints in blood mark the end of the text.)
Binding the Fifth Corpse Walker
We condemn both spirit and host for inviting the walker.
With solemn hearts we bind you by your true name.
Shamas Goodson, revenant and perversion of a rare friendship.
Regret holds more pain than burying the dead.
Andraste forgive you, brother, and bind your weakness for eternity.
(Five thumbprints in blood mark the end of the text.)
Binding the Sixth Corpse Walker
United we purge this realm of your corruption.
The smallest among us binds you by your true name.
Anton Wither, revenant and perversion of a friend not met.
Your strength and guile denied by innocence.
Andraste hold you, demon, and bind your rage for eternity.
(Six thumbprints in blood mark the end of the text. One is small, as though made by a child.)
"Mass will have an effect," he says.
As long as it lifts us out, I figure.
Should have specified "within my lifetime."
"Gives us time to talk", he says.
"How's a dwarf get named Shepard?"
Up yer shaft.
"No really, because blah, blah, blah."
Axe answers, but I still hear him.
Drip... ground.
Drip... ground.
Worse than his talking.
Think I'll drop out for some air.
Excerpt: Dwarven Verse in One Volume
Selection: Load Limit Reached
Anonymous scratching recovered from a cage hoist... eventually.
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Soldier's Peak is more than we bargained for. There is sinister magic at work here. The men are seeing things and cannot tell nightmares from reality. The fallen return to life to attack again and again, and we are assaulted by dark creatures the likes of which I have never seen. Whoever is responsible is intent on destroying us all--the king's army and the Grey Wardens both.
The taint allows us to sense the darkspawn. The longer we survive with the taint in our blood, the more potent it becomes. Unfortunately, this corruption will eventually overwhelm the Warden; over time, it devours both mind and body, leaving nothing. But what if the spread of the corruption could be stopped, or contained in some way? What if the Warden could become more powerful, without having that power kill him? How great would that power be? Would it be enough to stop the demons?
The Joining ritual is crude. We take into ourself the blood of the darkspawn in the most obvious way. Most die from the corruption immediately; it is, after all, poison. There must be some way to refine the Joining. Isolate the true power that is found in darkspawn blood, and leave behind the evil that kills us.
I can feel the corruption starting to take its toll on my body. I must not succumb. There is too much work to be done. Through my magic I've been able to slow its inevitable spread, but not stop it completely. I am starting to hear things, even while awake: A voice--more beautiful than any other--that calls to me from the depths. In my dreams, I see the Black City, and I am drawn towards it. There is something there, an answer to what this taint is, this taint that we share with the darkspawn...
Arl Ruahn and his entire family have been slaughtered, even the children. The Ruahn line is no more and the arling belongs to the crown, for now. Arland believed Ruahn was plotting against him. Ruahn criticized the king's spending on Wintersend--that is all. It was an idle word, spoken out of turn. The king goes too far. His brain is filled with madness and he clings to the crown like a drowning man clutches at a straw.
Sophia, I beg you, help us. If nothing is done, more will suffer.
I can assure you that the Circle of Magi is not a sacrilegious institution and that, indeed, we operate under the supervision of the Chantry. It would make our investigation of your husband's death much easier if you would simply co-operate with us. I am disappointed to hear that you sold the golem's activation rod--I understand both it and your husband were of invaluable aid to King Maric during the war against Orlais. Without the rod, we cannot discern whether Wilhelm's golem was responsible for his murder. The golem will simply have to remain where it is unless the villagers can find a means to destroy it. Our condolences to you and your son for your loss. I imagine it is of little consolation to you, but your husband is much admired here and will be missed.
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Four panels reproduced here appear to be part of a much larger mural.
The topmost panel shows a jug overflowing with water, standing on an altar. Three elves in robes are positioned around the altar, while a crowd of elves in warlike regalia stands just slightly apart from them.
Just below is a depiction of all the elves, those in robes and those in Armor, prostrating themselves before the altar with worshipful expressions.
Third from the top is a carving which shows one of the three robed figures, a woman with an elaborate tattoo on her face, drinking from the jug on the altar while the other elves watch.
The bottom image shows the tattooed woman standing waist-deep in a pool of water. She holds the jug with water spilling out of its mouth. The armoured elves bow before her.
