#codex meme

an overheard conversation about your OC

"Didya hear she has dragon in her?"

"Oi, don't be vulgar! That's the new baronness, y'never know what'll offend them noble types."

"Not like that, you tit! Why do you always--"

"With how often your mind's in the gutter can ya blame me? And yeah, I heard. Seen her, too. The scales are hard t' miss, shiny as they are."

"Yeah?"

"Mm. They're pretty, makes you wonder if they actually protect her or are just decorative."

"*snort* Could wonder the same of her, ey? If she's just here to look pretty or can actually protect us."

"Now that kind of talk will get you in trouble, shut it."

"It's a fair thing to wonder! What's some prissy Taldan noble want with a place like this? Spreadin' her wings? Wants a turn bein' in charge? Bad terms with her folks? Wager it ain't as easy as she's expectin', whatever her reasons."

"I dunno, she seems determined, an' already has some scars to show for her efforts, which didn't scare her off. Maybe this'n'll make a decent run of it."

Awesome! Thank you, sweets!

- a letter from your OC to their love interest

An extract from the last page of a letter found among King Alistair’s possessions following his death

I miss you. I could have thought of any number of things to tell you in your absence, but the most pertinent is that I miss you. I miss waking up to your disheveled nonsense in the morning, holding you as we fall to sleep at night. I look across at your seat, your throne, and I feel an ache that you are not there. I know your presence on the border is necessary. I know that you are needed there. I wish I could be there with you.

Be safe, cariño. Be safe, and know that your wife loves you, and will be delighted to see you again when you return.

With a full heart.

Your Fabs

Codex Entry - Report: Darren Miller

Entry was written by Hanin Lavellan, leader of the dawn squad, in reference to Darren Miller, a soldier of the Inquisition. It is addressed to Commander Cullen, and is part of a series regarding the young recruit’s progress.

Darren has made significant progress since my last report. The new training regimen appears to be working. Offering him more frequent opportunities to spar and practice his form at a lower intensity has allowed him to build his coordination and encourage muscle-memory, both of which were not improving under my previous method of instruction. He continues to respond well to praise, but the skill disparity between himself and his fellow squadmates continues to hinder his confidence. I have been attempting to build trust between them all, but it has proven difficult. This is not because they are not capable of it, but because I have little experience in that area myself. The challenge is a welcome one.

His stances are improving at a slow but steady rate. I am not seeing the pattern of regression you reported when you sent him to me, so he is clearly benefiting from being in a smaller group and receiving more one-on-one guidance. Overall blade skills need more work, as does his tendency to limit his own strength during sparring exercises. The only time he does not check himself is when he is paired with me, as Darren continues to express fear of hurting his fellow squadmates. I do not believe this to be a fault, but I will continue to work on showing him that we are all here to challenge each other. The stakes are far higher on the battlefield, and I share your concern that his training thus far will fall-through once he starts putting the full force of his body behind his movements. He is too used to operating at lower capacity, and I need him to be in control. I am considering offering him individual lessons, outside of training hours. Consider this my official request to remove him from late-afternoon duties.Your concern for his emotional state is acknowledged, however there is little I will be reporting on the subject. The boy is young. He made the decision to fight with us, and he has enough to deal with as a result without us discussing his personal matters in these missives. I will state that I gave him the option to come to me in confidence should he need to talk, and that he has taken me up on that offer. That is all the detail I intend to include. Your understanding is appreciated.

Overall, I continue to be pleased with his progress. Unlike what has been suggested, I do not believe the fault lies in the boy, but in our approach to his training. 

Thank you, lovely!

- a letter to your OC from a companion they haven’t seen in a while

Hawke,

It’s been a while. You did good staying out of the way, but ... Hell, I need you here. We all need you. You know that weird shit I told you about? It got shittier. I seem to recall a comment I made during our fight with Corypheus - that if he pulled a dragon out of his ass, I was done. Well, he’s back, and he’s got a damned dragon. I don’t know how he’s even alive, but he is.

I made this mess, Hawke, and I can’t get us out of it alone. I can’t get Xena out of it. I need you to come here, to Skyhold - it’s a little place in the Frostbacks we call home. I know I’m asking a lot, putting you and Curly in the same fortress, but this is big, bigger than everything that’s gone before. Hate to say it, but the Seeker was right. We need you.

Varric

P.S. You can bring Alex, too.

Codex Entry - “We need to talk…”

A personal letter from Warden Kaelan Tabris, addressed to Zevran Arainai, a former member of the Antivan Crows. It was found at an abandoned campsite, kept inside a small wooden box that contained other various keepsakes. The site appeared to be hastily abandoned, but mostly intact. It is likely the inhabitants intended to return, but were waylaid. 

Zevran,

I’m… not good at this sort of thing. I kinda wish I was, because at least I could feel like I was going toe-to-toe with you, but I guess you’re the charming one and I’m the one who just rushes in and puts his foot in it. So… shit, here it goes. 

I just wanted to say that… I appreciate it. Everything. You. I know I don’t tell you it enough - probably none of us do - but you deserve to hear it every damn day, so I’m going to go ahead and put it in writing. Feel free to bring it up whenever I piss you off. This one’s a freebie. You’re welcome.

But seriously. When I got thrown into this mess, I felt like I was treading water. Always just one kick away from drowning, you know? I didn’t want any of this. To be a Grey Warden. For anyone to look up to me. For people to think I can suddenly save the world and grow their crops because I drank from some nasty cup and didn’t die doing it. Up until now, all of this has just felt like a bad dream. You know, the kind where you’re running but not going anywhere, and something is chasing you, but for some reason you can’t turn around and get a good look at it. 

Okay, maybe you don’t know. That was a bit… weirdly specific, wasn’t it?

Look, all I want to say is that I want you. All of you. You probably think there’s something wrong with me - maybe you just wanted to have a bit of fun last night, and that’s fine if you did. I’m not going to hold it against you. For a first time, it was pretty damn good, and if I can get just one good memory right now… shit, I’ll take it. I’m not the kind of person to get attached or anything like that. Not to just anyone. But the problem is you’re not just anyone, and I can’t sit here trying to convince myself otherwise. I don’t want to.

You’ve had me once, and if that’s enough for you, I get it. I really do. But if it isn’t then… well, I guess what I’m trying to say is… good.

[The next section is smudged awkwardly, crossed out in places, and a general mess. The only legible line is the final one]

I’m runing out of ink, so pls cme 2 tent if u wnt. Jst 2 tlk.

Codex Entry - “Our Dear Sun”

A letter found in the dawn squad’s barracks, addressed to Darren Miller. It appears to be from his mother and father, although the penmanship is particularly elegant, suggesting it was written by a scribe. The paper is heavily creased from being opened and re-folded multiple times, and the ink is smeared in places by what appear to be tears.

Our dear son,

Are you well? It has been months since we last heard word from you, and we wanted to know if you are all right. Have you been eating well? Sleeping enough? Last time you mentioned some of the other soldiers were treating you poorly. We hope that is no longer the case, but if it is, know that you can come home at any time, dear. Nothing would make us happier.

We all miss you so much - especially Claire. She slept in your bed the day you left, and she’s stayed there ever since. We’re not sure how, but it helps. When she goes to her own, she cries. We think she feels like she’s losing a brother all over again. She was only small when Cian passed, but she remembers. We know you love her as much as she loves you, so make sure you come home to us. We cannot bear to see her go through that again, just as we cannot bear to lose you. 

The Turners passed on news from town that the Inquisition moved to a place called Skyhold, so that is where we are trying to send this letter. The last few went to Haven, but we never heard back, so perhaps they did not reach you. We heard about what happened there, and we have prayed to the Maker ever since that you got away. But prayers can only help so much, so please, write back. Even if it is just to say you are alive. Anything.

We are so proud of you, my sweet boy. I know it seems like we just want you to come home, and we do, but that does not take away the importance of the decision you made to join the Inquisition. It is just hard for us. We love you so much, and being so far apart… it is difficult. But we support you, no matter what you decide. You are a brave, kind person. They are lucky to have someone like you, just as we will be lucky to have you back when you return.

Take care of yourself, sweetheart, and please, be careful.

Love forever,

          - Ma and Pa (and Claire)

P.S. The Turners got a new dairy cow a few weeks back. They called her Bessie, just like their last one. She has a spot on her nose. You would like her.

(gonna start with this, since you asked, then I’ll go back to the beginning)

11. Your OC’s description of their game’s events

Heh, shit, where do I even start. I’m still tryin’ to decide if it counts as the worst case of wrong place, wrong time ever, or the exact opposite if I’m honest. First there was a storm that wanted to steal my soul, then I stumble on a ritual led by a man with the worst fuckin’ fashion sense ever. Whatever they’re doin’ knocks me out, makes me start hearin’ voices and seein’ things. So I push on for Gilded Vale, my original destination before all this fuckin’ madness started, hopin’ I can find someone who’ll give me some answers. After all, the local lord’s tryin’ t’ draw settlers, right? There hasta be someone who knows something.

There is. But she’s dead. But that’s okay, because apparently I can speak to dead people now. (I’m still kinda amazed Aloth wanted anything t’ do with me, considerin’ in the first twelve hours we knew each other I talked gibberish all night in my sleep, and then carried on a prolonged conversation with a fuckin’ dead woman.) So. Dead woman tells me I’m a Watcher, and I should go talk to this other Watcher, Maerwald, at Caed Nua. Head there with Aloth and Eder, meet Kana, meet Maewald, who’s crazy from being Awakened–good to know what I have to look forward to–he attacks, we kill him.

Still, manage to learn we hafta go to the temple of Woedica, which of course has been destroyed.Sneak in through the catacombs, use some trickery to find out at least some of what the fuck is going on with this Leaden Key group and their boss, Mr. Fashion Disaster from waaaay back. Check out some of their operations, sabotage as much as I can, ‘cause I’m a troublemaker, and they ain’t up to no good, messin’ with souls and shit. On one of these operations, find out Mr Fashion Disaster can overpower people’s souls and use their body, which obviously we hafta stop, even if his little ritual hadn’t fucked me over. In the meantime, I keep seein’ visions of him talkin’ to me like he knows me about some heretics, but I do my best to just… deal with it.

Doesn’t get real bad until the animancy hearin’, where he takes over an animancers body t’ kill the duc and turn the whole fuckin’ Defiance Bay against animancy an’ start riots’n shit. We find out from Lady Webb–shit, I didn’t mention her. Cipher who’d been helpin’ get me into the hearin’ in the first place. Turns out she knew Mr Fashion Disaster, or Thaos. But he killed her. So I had t’ learn from her soul where he was goin’ next so I could follow him.

I wasn’t that far behind him gettin’ to Twin Elms, but it was far enough. He made sure to block the way behind him, so if I wanna follow, I have to impress one of the gods enough they’ll help me get in the usually-deadly back way. I go with Hylea, ‘Cause I swear by her body parts enough I feel like I owe her that much. Also, it’s just clearin’ some dangerous pest from her temple. Can’t be that hard for seasoned adventurers, right? Wrong. It’s a fuckin’ sky dragon, who’s not too keen on leavin’. So we fuckin’ kill her, but it’s not easy. Get Hylea’s blessing in exchange for a promise, travel to the island that houses this back door, jump in this fuckin’ deep pit that somehow gets us where we need to go. Sun in Shadow. Sounds all dramatic and beautiful, but in reality it’s creepy as Hel.

This is where we find out the big secret Thaos is tryin’ t’ keep for Woedica: the gods aren’t actually real, and Thaos has been born multiple times with all his own memories and shit to keep that a secret. Considerin’ I’ve spoken to about… six or seven of em by this point, this comes as a surprise to me. But no matter what Thaos’ secret is or whatever, I hafta stop him stealing souls, and see if he knows how to work things out with mine. But he’s not cooperative when we catch him, so we hafta kill hi–real tragedy that–I destroy his soul–y’know, to be on the safe side, make sure he can’t come back to do this fucking again–and keep my promise to Hylea; use his big fancy soul-catcher machine to put all the souls back where they go. World saved, I can get a decent fuckin’ night’s sleep, and all’s well. 

(Found tucked in a dog-eared journal/sketchbook belonging to the former Viscountess of Kirkwall)

Sister, 

I don’t know what you want me to tell you. This isn’t an easy life, and it hasn’t magically gotten better with time. It’s still dirty, brutal, and often miserable work. The nightmares are still awful, worse than anything I had to deal with after Ostagar or Lothering. Still haven’t done much that would be considered glorious, though I did take down an ogre almost single-handed. Had to spend the night in the rain immediately after, but it was a good kill. Just wish it hadn’t brought Beth back haunting my dreams. They’re bad enough as it is.

Still even if this isn’t an easy life, it’s a life. And it’s mine. thanks for that, I guess. Granted, it’s been a little better since I was stationed back in Ferelden, though I do wish I’d gotten a different… partner, I guess you’d call her. She’s even more cheerful than Merrill. It’s bloody annoying. What’s a ceremonially dead woman got to be so perky about, anyway? (The commander says she grows on you. I’d doubt him except his eyes said he was speaking from experience) At least we fight well together. I guess my point is that while life could definitely be better, it could also be worse. (I could still be living in your shadow, O mighty Viscountess. Talk about a fate worse than death. Kidding.) So if you’re worrying if you made the right choice all those years ago, yes. I think you did. 

-Carver

PS I’d apologize for complaining, but then you’d wonder what was wrong, so. I’m not sorry. (This is your fault, anyway)

PPS (Thanks)