Apparently there's a limit on how many quote boxes you can have in one post.... that's weird.
I'm gonna post a bunch of different codexes. At the moment, my mind is far more focused on my own novel to begin crafting original theories for DA, so I leave that to those with the time on their hands. Also, maybe a few old forum threads
http://forum.bioware...-thaig-mystery/
http://forum.bioware...primeval-thaig/
(this one was mine, but it didn't quite take off that well. Rifneno's took off far better then mine in the months following).
Now admittedly some of these will seem to be random codexes I'm posting. You may scoff at them, but for all we know what one would deem an inconsequential codex might hold a key piece to the puzzle.
Dalish tale of Fen'Harel. Let's assume there are half-truths in here, considering the revelations given to us in Inquisition.:
There is precious little we know about Fen'Harel, for they say he did not care for our people. Elgar'nan and Mythal created the world as we know it, Andruil taught us the Ways of the Hunter, Sylaise and June gave us fire and crafting, but Fen'Harel kept to himself and plotted the betrayal of all the gods. And after the destruction of Arlathan, when the gods could no longer hear our prayers, it is said that Fen'Harel spent centuries in a far corner of the earth, giggling madly and hugging himself in glee.
The legend says that before the fall of Arlathan, the gods we know and revere fought an endless war with others of their kind. There is not a hahren among us who remembers these others: Only in dreams do we hear whispered the names of Geldauran and Daern'thal and Anaris, for they are the Forgotten Ones, the gods of terror and malice, spite and pestilence. In ancient times, only Fen'Harel could walk without fear among both our gods and the Forgotten Ones, for although he is kin to the gods of the People, the Forgotten Ones knew of his cunning ways and saw him as one of their own.
And that is how Fen'Harel tricked them. Our gods saw him as a brother, and they trusted him when he said that they must keep to the heavens while he arranged a truce. And the Forgotten Ones trusted him also when he said he would arrange for the defeat of our gods, if only the Forgotten Ones would return to the abyss for a time. They trusted Fen'Harel, and they were all of them betrayed. And Fen'Harel sealed them away so they could never again walk among the People.
--From "the Tale of Fen'Harel's Triumph," as told by Gisharel, keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves.
You ask what happened to Arlathan? Sadly, we do not know. Even those of us who keep the ancient lore have no record of what truly happened. What we have are accounts of the days before the fall, and a fable of the whims of the gods.
The human world was changing even as the elves slept. Clans and tribes gave way to a powerful empire called Tevinter, which--and for what reason we do not know--moved to conquer Elvhenan. When they breached the great city of Arlathan, our people, fearful of disease and loss of immortality, chose to flee rather than fight. With magic, demons, and even dragons at their behest, the Tevinter Imperium marched easily through Arlathan, destroying homes and galleries and amphitheaters that had stood for ages. Our people were corralled as slaves, and human contact quickened their veins until every captured elf turned mortal. The elves called to their ancient gods, but there was no answer.
As to why the gods didn't answer, our people left only a legend. They say that Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf and Lord of Tricksters, approached the ancient gods of good and evil and proposed a truce. The gods of good would remove themselves to heaven, and the lords of evil would exile themselves to the abyss, neither group ever again to enter the other's lands. But the gods did not know that Fen'Harel had planned to betray them, and by the time they realized the Dread Wolf's treachery, they were sealed in their respective realms, never again to interact with the mortal world. It is a fable, to be sure, but those elves who travel the Beyond claim that Fen'Harel still roams the world of dreams, keeping watch over the gods lest they escape from their prisons.
Whatever the case, Arlathan had fallen to the very humans our people had once considered mere pests. It is said that the Tevinter magisters used their great destructive power to force the very ground to swallow Arlathan whole, destroying eons of collected knowledge, culture, and art. The whole of elven lore left only to memory.
--"The Fall of Arlathan," as told by Gisharel, keeper of the Ralaferin clan of the Dalish elves
However, I do wish to say one thing. The Gods of Evil were exiled to the abyss. Take into account the Profane codex
We who are forgotten, remember,
We clawed at rock until our fingers bled,
We cried out for justice, but were unheard.
Our children wept in hunger,
And so we feasted upon the gods.
Here we wait, in aeons of silence.
We few, we profane.
—Found scrawled on a wall in the lost Revann Thaig by explorer Faruma Helmi, 5:10 Exalted. Unknown author.
Now, accounting for how the PT denizens feasted on "the magick stones", let's assume they viewed lyrium as a manifestation of their gods. Coryphe-shite has something to say to Dwarves, that we're nothing more then dirt-worshippers. Indeed, Dwarves venerate the Stone and believe it's alive and that it guides the worthy.
Let's also assume the Elves went to war with the Dwarves, as earlier mentions of a Mythal Temple codex imply (or some form of Darkspawn). Let's assume further that the gods the PT residents worshiped were associated with what the Elves might've viewed as their evil gods.
Red Lyrium feeds upon the blood of its victims, as an autopsy done on a Red Templar showed. It then grows from its victims, perpetuating itself.
I dunno. I'm trying to get all these thoughts in my head to organize themselves, but my mind is a chaotic mess at the best of times. Perhaps someone else can pick up on my trail.
I find it interesting the Profane called out for justice. Perhaps, if we ignore what I said above, they were calling out to Mythal. Mythal, who was murdered.
We know the people of the Primeval Thaig were originally Mages, or at least some were, as the thing we talk to that's a Hunger Demon is called a rock wraith abomination as its title. And an Abomination sprouts from its corpse.
Let's post some more codexes. The PT cover-up I mentioned earlier.
Your Majesty,
It's difficult getting a straight answer out of the scavenger. These sods get themselves so blighted they can't think straight, much less keep spit in their mouths. He says, however, that he's gone down into parts of the Deep Roads that are so old that our people forgot them long before the Blight even happened.
He spoke of great statues and temples--temples! He spoke of things that could have only been made of magic and of impossible ruins untouched by darkspawn. He described creatures the likes of which we've never seen.
None of it's possible, of course. I've conferred with the Shaper and he says the Memories date back to the founding of the first thaig--what could have come before that? Yes, we're unable to explore these depths the scavenger spoke of because of the darkspawn, but surely the Memories would speak of such places if they existed.
Yet in this scavenger's belongings, amidst all the filth, there was a single idol. It was clearly of dwarven make, but not resembling any Paragon on record. The idol was dressed in a manner I've never seen. The Shaper of Memories also could not identify it or the substance from which it was made. The thought that the Memories might be wrong... unsettling.
— Excerpt from a report sealed in the Orzammar royal archives by order of King Annalar Geldinblade in 8:48 Blessed.
Then there's House Valdasine:
In the ancient days before the darkspawn, when dwarven cities wound through the roots of all the earth, House Valdasine single-handedly kept the empire supplied with lyrium.
One day the mining family shut the doors of their thaig. They spoke not to their noble patrons, nor their king, and not even a visiting Paragon. Days passed in silence before the doors to Valdasine Thaig opened. Anxious partners discovered it empty. Not one soul remained—no bodies and no sign of what had happened.
House Valdasine only left a staff of strange metal behind. It looked like lyrium and chilled one's heart like a remembered sorrow. The king sealed the staff inside the thaig, and no dwarf ever ventured there again.
—As recounted by Shaper Merta
And what of the Nexus Golem or Eleni Zinovia? Or the fact Golems exist in the PT's walls, yet were seemingly made during the First Blight? Granted, Caridin gave them that name based on a myth, but he also claims he had a vision. Perhaps he's being literal and did have a vision?
Arcane Warrior conversation, for specific reference
What is this place? What happened here?
The images that come are slow, as the Presence must think back to a time it barely recalls at all. You see a place of serenity, where the eldest come to slumber and are visited by those who offer tribute to the gods on their behalf. The Presence's memories of what happened there are uncertain. There are flashes of violence, of war... but it is all too long ago. None of it is clear.
Was this a war with the humans?
The presence remembers the humans. This was a time even after the humans had come. It was they who had built this place, long before. Perhaps the war was with other humans. Perhaps it was with something else, something that killed both the humans and elves that were here. It is not clear.
How did you end up in this gem?
You see images of a great battle, elves and humans both screaming and attempting to flee from some terrible presence. What that presence was is blurry and lost to time. The Presence fled the destruction by using the Life Gem, escaping its body. It was sure that someone would come, to rescue it. But no one did. Not until now.
Ancient Elven Armor
Before the fall of Arlathan, even before Arlathan itself, the civilization of the elves stretched across all of Thedas like a great, indolent cat.
This armor was made for temple guards in a time when the Creators still spoke to the elves. The techniques of its forging, even the name of the metal it is forged from, have long since faded from memory.
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 armored elves bow before her.
--Describing a strange tablet.
Little knowledge remains of the great war the Tevinter Imperium waged upon the elves of Arlathan. Many human scholars believe that Arlathan was the only elven settlement of note, and that if elves existed elsewhere on the continent their forces were at best negligible. My conversations with the Dalish, however, indicate that there was a time when the elves had many cities, and it's possible that the elven civilization declined long before the Imperium entered the height of its power.
An example of such a place is Sundermount in the Vimmark Mountains near Kirkwall. According to Dalish legend, this was a burial site for elders and the location of a great battle between Imperial and elven forces—nowhere near Arlathan (if one believes the city was near the forest of the same name in northeastern Thedas).
The arcane warriors that remained at the mountain to defend their slumbering elders were known as the Enasalin'abelas, or "sorrowful victory". These elves knew they were going to die, but were bound by duty to protect their charges. The enchanted armor that belonged to these warriors was looted by the Imperial victors, so pieces that resurface today are considered relics of great importance.
—From An Investigation into Arlathan, by Alstead the Sage, 9:18 Dragon
“The specimen was fresh, killed only a few hours ago by a troop of chevaliers patrolling outside the city. Their captain told me, in a strained and sickly voice, that a group of red templars had descended on his men and massacred them. I gave him my condolences, but he seemed not to hear me. The one on my slab was fast, the captain muttered, much nimbler than its bulk suggested. Imagine my nausea when I opened up the creature and saw that red lyrium had fused to the bones, overgrown its lungs, and spread like a fungus into the brain. As I watched, the red crystal pulsed and spread the smallest fraction of an inch deeper into the flesh of the corpse. Blood drained out of the surrounding tissue, as if the lyrium itself were feeding on it.”
— An excerpt from the diary of Professor Auffret, a naturalist studying at the University of Val Royeaux
Stuff on Uthenara now:
To the ancient elves who existed during the time of Arlathan, uthenera was an act of reverence. Elves did not age. They were not immortal, but they did not suffer from deterioration of mind or body. They suffered only from a deterioration of the spirit.
It did not happen often, but the oldest of the elves were said to reach a point where they became weary of life. Memories became too much to bear, and rather than fade into complacency, they voluntarily stood aside to let newer generations guide their people.
Uthenera means "the long sleep," in which the elder would retire to a chamber that was one part bed and one part tomb. To great ceremony from all the extended family, the elder would succumb to a slumber from which they would not wake for centuries, and often never. In time, the body would deteriorate and the elder would die in truth. All the while, family would continue to visit the chamber to pay respect to one who made such a great sacrifice.
With the arrival of humans and the quickening of elven blood that ensued, the practice of uthenera began to fade. When Arlathan fell, it ceased forever.
--From What Has Passed, by Hassandriel, Lord of Halamshiral, 2:7 Glory
hahren na melana sahlin
emma ir abelas
souver'inan isala hamin
vhenan him dor'felas
in uthenera na revas
vir sulahn'nehn
vir dirthera
vir samahl la numin
vir lath sa'vunin
Translated from the elven tongue:
elder your time is come
now I am filled with sorrow
weary eyes need resting
heart has become grey and slow
in waking sleep is freedom
we sing, rejoice
we tell the tales
we laugh and cry
we love one more day
-- From "In Uthenera," traditional elven song of unknown origin.
And that song, or at least part of it, has power when used at the Altar of Mythal where Flemeth was reborn. I admit, part of me wants to replay DAII for Merrill's comments on Dalish stuff. And just in general for Merrill.
More will come later, perhaps. My mind is beyond frazzled and soon it will be bedtime. But with this coming week I can maybe put some time into actually looking at some theories... or digging up my old ones.
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