Codex Fat (My Encounters with the Spiritual Book 5)

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1. Introduction

You have no idea how evil I was. I understand people like the person with the birthmark are to afraid to walk away from evil that could harm them because they have no faith and no will and very little self confidence. If you did your brain would have the strength to pull your self up. Only the week are slaves.

Have you looked into the skies and yet you choose to corrode. You do realize that the devil is greedy self-fish and self absorbed and all he wants is your sole then he will forget about you and leave you to rot. Give your sole to God and For eternity you will be cherished and loved and free and always to God you are Gold.

Abusive comment hidden. Show it anyway. Funboy - I am with you. And a little, just a little, grammar rules would make this tripe a bit easier to read. To all the believers; keep fighting the good fight. But know when to shake the dust from your sandles and move on. You all need to learn how to spell! I want to know more about the book. I guess in ways I can see all of your point of veiws.

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I wiccan at one time, a none beliver. I've read alot on many things, religions,cults, simitism, bodism,islam,hendoism, just about every thing. I have to say that during my wiccan time I could do things that I thought could never be do and yes I enjoyed it but only for a sort time when things went bad for me. I now belive in God becuase through deeper research of the bible I have found so much more true than the faultness of other religions.

Now I wounder myself why God allows bad things to happen to good people. I Know, I lost my wife, mother and father in 5 years. You could only imagine the hatedred I felt toward God. It hurt the most when I lost my wife, you see, I was on my way in a bar and half way across the parking lot I stopped and looked up and said, " God; I need a wife. We had 2 little girls together at the age of 37, 15 years after we married she suddenly died at home in front of me and our 13 year daughter.

Then I lost my business that I had for 12 years. Then I got cancer, on top of more health problems, it was like my life was going down hill at the speed of light. So see, I know where alot of you are coming from in this. Wether you belive me or not is besides the point. Codex entry "Enchanters".

The time has come to be alive With the Circle of Magi , where we will thrive With our brothers. Enchanters remind That time will not unwind. The dragon 's crooked spine, Will never straighten into line. What we plea will be A faithful end decree, Where a man will not retreat From the defeat of his fathers. A time has come for battle lines. We will cut these knotted ties, And some may live and some may die. In our strength we can rely, And history will not repeat.

Codex entry "I Am The One". I feel sun Through the ashes in the sky. Where's the one Who'll guide us into the night? Codex entry "Maker". Codex entry "Nightingale's Eyes". Nightingale's eyes— What secret lies In their worth? Raven's tears they cry, But all the while They softly lie and spy on you. Nightingale's eyes— What will they find Left behind? Craven master spy, With heart remiss For those who could not find the truth. We're blinded, So we're hiding Dying to be.

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We're hiding From the fighting, Longing to see. We're waiting For someone to speak And set us all free. Nightingale's eyes Can free the ties On our hands. Craven master spies— Can they find The key that can unlock the past? We're waiting For someone to speak And set us all free… free.

Codex entry "Oh, Grey Warden".

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Oh, Grey Warden , What have you done? The oath you have taken Is all but broken. All is undone. Demons have come To destroy this peace We have had for so long. Ally or Foe? Maker only knows. The Maker only knows.

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The stronghold lives on, And the army's reborn, Compelled to forge on. What will we become? Can you be forgiven When the cold grave has come? Or will you have won, Or will battle rage on? Oh, Grey Warden, What have you done? Ash in the sun, Cast into darkness The light we had won. Codex entry "Once We Were". We held the Fade And the demon's flight So far from our children And from our lives. Codex entry "Rise". Codex entry "Samson's Tale".

Samson templar fame, Raise your shield of shame. Samson's letter caught, Left unfought defamed. Armor laced with blood Shall reclaim his name. Samson's broken heart Shall revoke his claim. Samson knight in red, He hath lost his way Samson martyr rage. Soon the world will pay. Codex entry "Sera Was Never". Sera was never an agreeable girl— Her tongue tells tales of rebellion. But she was so fast, And quick with her bow, No one quite knew where she came from. Sera was never quite the quietest girl— Her attacks are loud and they're joyful.

But she knew the ways of nobler men, And she knew how to enrage them. She would always like to say, "Why change the past, When you can own this day? She's a rogue and a thief, And she'll tempt your fate. A rogue and a thief, And she'll tempt your fate. Sera was never quite the wealthiest girl— Some say she lives in a tavern.

But she was so sharp, And quick with her bow— Arrows strike like a dragon. Sera was never quite the gentlest girl— Her eyes were sharp like a razor. But she knew the ways of commoner men, And she knew just how to use them. Codex entry A Compendium of Orlesian Theater. The most unusual part of Orlesian theater, appropriately enough, revolves around our southern neighbor's love of masks.

Every actor wears a mask, and every mask follows a hierarchy of shape and colors that indicates to the audience the character's importance. Half-face green masks indicate a leading male role, for example, while half-face purple masks are for primary female characters. Full white masks are reserved for roles of no clear gender, such as spirits, except for demons, whose masks must always be black and red. Further complicating matters for those new to Orlesian theater, an actor's race or sex has no bearing on the parts they can play.

If a director believes they can sell the part, men can play dowagers, women can play dukes, and even an elf can play a king. Once donned, the mask is understood to be absolutely them. None of the actors I spoke to could explain to me the history behind this tradition, but bristled when I suggested other nations find it strange. There is a strong bond of trust between Orlesian theater troupes and their viewers. Indeed, I have rarely attended such attentive audiences than in Val Royeaux. It is my guess that Orlesians, surrounded as they are by masks in their daily lives, both require and fully respect a place where the objects boldly display their wearers' intentions for a change.

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An appendix at the back of this volume lists the appearance and meanings of Orlais' theatrical masks. These conventions are vital to understanding the history of its finest theater, a journey I hope you will find as rewarding as I have. A tent. King Drakon turns his crown in his hands. Enter his trusted cousin, Captain Ashan.

King Drakon: Pride killed our Prophet. Her sacred words are all we've left! If victory spurns us, who will carry them forward? Who will bear the Chant of Light? It's little wonder King Drakon's life is one of the most popular tales in Orlais. After founding both Orlais and the Chantry , the charismatic young noble battled the Second Blight for the rest of his reign. Freyette's plays are notable for being the first to portray Orlais' founder as a man beset by doubts, as are we all, instead of an idealized cipher.

A few grand clerics attempted to ban the play, saying it criticized the current state of the Chantry, but The Sword of Drakon proved too popular among the masses and the nobility and remains a staple of Orlesian theater to this day. Duke Le Seuille: I have asked about the town. He wears my great-grandfather's scabbard. The one that went missing that night. A woman in a black and gold mask with crow feathers on the side enters from the servant's door.

She bows. The countess pales and puts her face in her hands. Rife with betrayal, revenge, and a thundering climax, The Heir of Verchiel is performed each year in the city that gave it its name, a lavish production put on for the nobility who visit from nearby Halamshiral. A city elf from Val Royeaux , Boyet took smaller roles for five years before convincing Legrand he was fit for the part. His first performance in the capital was so well received that when the cast came out to thunderous applause, the current emperor rose from his seat when Boyet took the stage.

Elves have done well in Orlais' theaters, much to the surprise of those outside the country, but actors' lives are hotbeds of scandal and intrigue that would make even the bards blush. It is unusual at first to see elves openly tolerated and sometimes even welcomed into their betters' circles, but Orlais treats its actors as a breed apart.

This play enjoys enduring and, some might say, embarrassing popularity, never failing to draw a large crowd during a festival or market. The fictional Fereldan village of Wilkshire Downs is the setting for over three thousand lines of increasingly outrageous situations begun, worsened, or ended by flatulence. I am told actors go on a special diet to convincingly play the roles. I've not the courage for details. Callista paces on the battlement over the lake. The sky is dark. She holds a cup of poison. Camallia is there, face veiled.

These lines are from a play said to have been one of the strangest works of its time. Bartlet was a writer of small repute who died when a fire swept through his pauper's hovel. The Setting of the Light takes place in the mysterious city of Demhe, implied to be another world that somehow becomes our own moon. Accidents, madness, and suicide plagued the first production, and some historians claim that the play's conclusion was at once so hauntingly beautiful and shockingly vile it sparked the Great Riot of Val Royeaux in Black.

Incredibly, this enjoyable if somewhat predictable melodrama begat a storm of debate. At the end of the piece, the murderer of Lord Carcasse changes into a villain's mask before giving an elaborate confessional speech. At the time, masks in Orlesian theater were fixed to each role. Plays were written with the assumption that the masks gave audiences vital information a play's characters might not possess. Death in the Mansion ignored this implicit contract, shocking the audiences at the time.

Armand was nearly destroyed by the attacks on Death in the Mansion by both her theatergoers and Orlesian critics. Many accused her of an unforgivable violation of the spirit of the theater. A vogue for "False Face" stories caught on among the foremost writers of the time, however, and today Armand's techniques are seen as wholly unremarkable. It only goes to show how easily the alchemy of time shifts the outrageous into the everyday. The news is dire. There are rumors that our Warden brothers and sisters in Ferelden have all perished.

Without the Grey Wardens, the Blight will take Ferelden. Then it will undoubtedly spread. It will go north to Nevarra and the Marches. It will come west to Orlais. At the head will be an Archdemon , and in its wake will come thousands upon thousands of darkspawn. We must be ready to stare squarely into the eyes of oblivion. Many of you have asked why we remain here when such threats are mounting in the east. The problem, you see, is not a new one for us. To say Ferelden and Orlais have been at odds is an understatement. These two are like dogs and cats. We Wardens are Orlesian by address only, but that does not seem to matter to Ferelden's leaders.

Word is that the King of Ferelden is dead. And his successor, Loghain Mac Tir , decrees that no Warden set foot in the country. Mac Tir, a national hero who helped expel invading Orlesian forces from Ferelden, seems to have it out for our Order, too. Maybe he doubts our abilities.

Maybe he is more foolish than the history books make him out to be. Codex entry A Ghoulish Delight. Surely you must have heard of the Paget's failing fortunes? They've lost almost everything. The lord made some bad decisions and trusted people he shouldn't. All that's left is La Maison Verte, in the Dales. They have to sell it and move to the city. I was called upon to find someone willing to buy the house.

You would be so proud of me. I surpassed all the lord's expectations. I looked into La Maison's history first. Did you know it was built in the time of the elves? It was a sanctuary dedicated to Andruil , goddess of the forest; the house was built around the ruins. The heart of the shrine was an etched stone altar, now in the grand hall. It's quite spectacular. Any noble in Val Royeaux would be envious of something with such historical significance.

I planned a party to show off the house and its elven altar. We had it decorated with white flowers and candles, even brought in some harts to graze in the garden outside. The effect was stunning. Then, my stroke of genius! Remember when Lady Carine's pastime was reading about elves, and how sympathetic she was to what happened in the Dales? She couldn't stop talking about how we must make contact with the restless elven spirits. All her lady companions were so taken with the idea. Well, I did just that. Or I made the guests believe that's what happened. I had to hire a mage to help, of course—a very discreet fellow from Montsimmard.

During the party, I talked about how the house was a haunt for sad elven spirits. They ate it all up. Romantic, they said. For the final touch, I had everyone join hands around the elven stone and pray, and the mage no names! It was a triumph! Offers began pouring in! One of them was even from a representative of Grand Duchess Florianne. Codex entry A Magister's Needs. It's been an age since I've written, but I simply had to thank you! Your advice was perfect. Just a few gossips bought with gold and everyone in Minrathous thought Quirinus and I were the most dreadful rivals.

It let us indulge our little love affair without his wretched family interfering, if only for a little while. Quirinus himself sadly turned out to be less ideal. I caught him carrying on behind my back, with a soporati of all things. Can you imagine? There was nothing for it. During the quarrel, I threw boiling water at his face.

Let his soporati kiss the scars better. He's cowering in his mansion now, pretending he was hurt in a duel. No doubt he'll want revenge. Don't worry, dear sister. I took precautions. Don't tell anyone, but my master taught me a few secrets that should keep me safe. The ritual cost me the mansion's kitchen slave. Lenna, I think she was called? But I've enough power now to keep Quirinus from trying anything foolish. Kitchen slaves can be bought by the dozen at the market, so there's no harm in it. I feel wonderful, dear sister.

Won't you come for Wintersend this year? I'll have my new slave trained to make your favorite lemon cakes by then. It'll be perfect. Codex entry A Missing Slave. In Tevinter , a slave is invisible, even though the entire empire rests on our backs. Our hands built the walls of Minrathous and carry its wealth along the crumbling roads. Scribes like myself take dictation and write letters that shift the balance of power. My daughter, Leonora, a kitchen slave, works night and day so Magister Delphine isn't troubled by a torn robe or a cold supper. Normally, I meet Leonora about the kitchens.

But it has been days since our paths crossed. No one has seen her. I can't help but think of the old stories that cross the slave markets like lightning, how, centuries ago, the ancients built their cities with blood magic , raising the very towers and walls with terrible rituals using our lives as fuel.

Thousands of slaves were sacrificed as we were forced onto the altars of the Old Gods. Magister Delphine's perfect, marble-faced mansion likely stands on the back of a hundred voiceless elves. But that was a different time. Andraste 's words against blood magic made the practice all but forbidden and shunned. Though we may be punished, few slaves are dragged to the altar or milked of blood without at least some reprimand. Yet Leonora is missing, and Magister Delphine seems different.

She carries an aura she never had before. And rumors fly that a bitter rival has been publicly humiliated in a duel of magic. Through my grief I fear, I know, that my Leonora's life was the price. I ache to speak as an equal with Magister Delphine, to demand answers. But such an audience would be joke to her. No one sees a slave. Codex entry A Nutty Affair. Several months after Clemence II died, rumors that she had been a man in disguise began circulating in Val Royeaux. The gossip was eventually traced back to one Sister Constance, who was present when the Divine's body was cleaned and dressed for her funeral.

Constance had a weakness for barley wine, and spoke of Clemence II's sensitive matter to a local tavern-keep after having imbibed large quantities of the beverage. Revered Mother Estelle put the rumors to rest by declaring that she had also aided the sisters in dressing the late Divine 's body for her cremation, and knew for a fact that Clemence II was a woman. She went on to say that Sister Constance was mistaken; what she saw was in actuality a squirrel that had clambered in through an open window and come to rest between the Divine's legs.

Codex entry A Plea from the Warrior to the Spirits. The wolves were our allies. In the old days, before Andraste , before the Maker , we knew this to be so. But man grew tired of the chase, the hunt, the truth of fang and steel and blood. Man put seeds in the ground, tended cattle and chickens, and built fences to keep the wolves away. Man bred hounds that would heel and sit and obey, and told himself that the hounds were just as good. Now the darkspawn come again.

They break our fences, kill our cattle and chickens, burn our crops. Our dogs cower with tails between their legs, or if they fight, they fall to the poison of darkspawn blood. We are dying, and I am shamed by my cowardice. The ways of man and hound are not enough. I come to you, spirits of the old forest, I who built fences, I who came with fire and steel to drive you away. I come to you because fear has made my arms weak. I ask you for unforgiving rage to make them strong again.

Kill the hound in my heart, and grow strong from the meat on its bones. In its place, give me the wolf. Codex entry A Season of the Four Afoul. At this window, the thief Treadwell did witness the attempted assault of Lady Castine. He surrendered his chance for escape to catch and hold he assailant, a bard of Lord Halevine. Hero thief, foiled bard, and conspiring noble were all censured as per their station and relevant action—lashings and labor, disappeared, and ostracized for the social season, respectively.

The scandal played out far longer in the theatrically serialized adaptation, which reimagined the three as siblings separated at birth, competing for Lady Castine's hand at her orchestration. The conclusion was relatively accurate to the original event, save the punishment of the thief and noble being swapped, to comic effect.

Generally good reviews received, though some thought the height of the lady's hair to be unrealistic. Codex entry Ameridan and the Mage. Soft Fade -touched light, in dream-lit tones, falls dark. Each form a memory, recalled through parted lips, That try to speak, fall silent. Before light marks The dawn, from sleeping fingers she slips Into the day, where averted eyes bend To any but the other. Oathsworn To Lion's call, yet here the two are broken. As waxing sickle stands witness to the end Of love's denial and secrets borne, From parted lips, the words at last are spoken.

This overly romantic portrait of illicit meetings between a mage and her lover was written sometime in the Divine Age. Though likely penned after Ameridan's disappearance, the work was said to be inspired by tales and rumors of the former Inquisitor's "lady-mage. These scholars claim the poem's title was a later addition, meant to discredit the last Inquisitor's reputation. The poem was later deemed "problematic" and relegated to a list of banned works. Codex entry Andraste's Mabari. You know Andraste 's old mabari. He don't show up in the Chant. And if you ask those holy sisters, Well, they'll say Andraste can't Have had some big old smelly wardog.

But all Ferelden knows it right: Our sweet Lady needed someone Who would warm her feet at night. And there's Andraste's mabari By the Holy Prophet's side. In the fight against Tevinter , That dog would never hide. Oh, that dog, he guards Andraste Without arrogance or fear, Only asking of his mistress Just a scratch behind the ears. But then old Maf'rath gets to plotting, Tries to lure that dog away. But even as they trap the Prophet, Her mabari never strays. In the fight against Tevinter, That dog would never hide. Oh they thought the wounds had killed him, But then he limped out toward the fire.

And Hessarian , he shed a tear, As that dog laid on the pyre. Yes that mabari's the companion Of the Maker's Holy Bride. Codex entry Andruil's Messenger. Long ago, when our people were strong and free, we roamed the world and could do as we pleased. But we were taught by Andruil , Mother of Hares, to respect nature and all of the Creator's creatures. Even though the earth was ours, we did not misuse it.

They say the great leaders of the People would pray to Andruil for guidance. Where shall we hunt? Where shall we raise our halla? Where shall we settle and build? Andruil would send her messenger, the owl, to show the People the way, and they would follow him to where the land was blessed. Codex entry Astrariums. Regarding your inquiry regarding the so-called " astrariums ," it is our considered belief that these are relics from a cult that existed in the pre-Andrastian era of the Tevinter Imperium.

Now, what would be considered a cult in a society that worshipped the Old Gods? An order of magisters who believed in the destruction of the Magisterium , the governing body of the Imperium that determines which mages are and are not given the "magister" title. The members of this order wished to return to an earlier period where Dreamers ruled, and evidence indicates they operated throughout Tevinter, though primarily in the frontier areas.

There they would lock away their secrets, caches of treasure, and perhaps even secret meeting places though we have no way of knowing for certain , unlockable only through knowledge of ancient astronomy—a practice that was, we understand, rather out of fashion in the late Tevinter period. According to our investigations, each of the astrariums could point to the secret cache if one knew the three constellations that mapped to each device present at the site.

Connect the dweomers in the correct configuration, and it would be revealed. Many of these relics were sought out by Andrastian cultists in the early Divine Age the Order of Fiery Promise in particular and destroyed. Because they believed the astrariums held together the Veil , and that destroying them would destroy the Veil and thus the world.

Such is the way of cults of any kind that the true reasons for what they do could never truly be understood by modern minds. Codex entry Ballad of the Murderer's Gold. In darkest of winter, from foulest Tevinter , We fled with a lifetime of wealth in the hold. The ship's hull was breaching, with no hope of reaching A shore for to live with our murderer's gold. But then came the island, the safety of dry land. We struggled to shore to recover our breath. But spirits surrounded us all, had us hounded, And charged us with carrying coin bought with death. The captain, they shouted, had cruelly clouted A servant who died at the treasury door.

He soon grew no older, but slipped on a boulder And shattered his skull, and was wealthy no more. The first mate had wrangled escape and had strangled The kindly old guard 'fore he raised an alarm. He slipped in the rigging while through the wreck digging, And choked to death cursing that he had done harm.

The lady was bathing, her last look was scathing As I held her down for the key she did hold. If my fate be drowning, let spirits be frowning, I'll sit on dry land with my murderer's gold. Codex entry Battleground State. It seems a bitter twist of fate to discover that half of Thedas does not consider my homeland a nation at all. Qunari maps depict the island as part of their territory, without any ambiguousness to the claim.

I can only assume this is because all islands within the Boeric Ocean naturally fall under their jurisdiction. The Tevinter maps, meanwhile, still proudly show the entire island as part of the Imperium, even though Imperial control outside of small pockets is little more than fiction and changes whenever the Qunari return their attention to the area.

Imperial reports speak of "Fog Warriors" as if we are beasts, little better than darkspawn or dragons. Ours is a land that has been shaped by war, as no other. Long ago the Imperium came, and after centuries of trying and failing to turn us into compliant Imperial citizens, the Qunari came instead. They conquered Seheron and attempted to convert us. Neither side succeeded in taking our freedom. And though battle after bloody battle have ground our ancient halls of wisdom practically to dust, we still dream of the land that was.

The fog dancers who travel with each band of warriors regale them with the legends of old and keep the songs our people alive. They say that the griffons of the Grey Wardens came from Seheron. They tell us of the ancient Curse of Nahar that brought the fog, and the promise that will one day lift it. They speak of the March of Four Winds, of the lost people who fled to the northern islands and the great heroes who learned at the feet of elves.

Are the old tales true? We may never know. All that remains of the land Seheron once was is gone. But I know we will make them true someday. Codex entry Before Andrastianism: Forgotten Faiths. The teachings of the Andrastian Chantry have been part of Thedosian lives for over eight hundred years. The Chantry guides us and teaches us. We are made humble in the knowledge that we have sinned, and yet we are inspired and given hope through Andraste's story and her song. In those terrible years, Thedosians were lost. Crying for salvation, they took to anyone and anything they hoped could give them the answers they so desperately sought.

Some returned to well-known faiths, like the Tevinter Imperium 's cult of the Old Gods , which we hold accountable for the curse of the Blight and the darkspawn. But others found their own paths, following false prophets and making false gods out of men. Many of these religions have disappeared, dying out with their adherents, like the Daughters of Song , or the Empty Ones. Others, like the Blades of Hessarian , may still lurk in the hidden corners of our world. This book aims to remember them, so that we may find compassion for those who lived in those dark times, and also for they who even now are lost, and turn to shadow, trying find light.

Codex entry Bottles of Thedas. A brutishly strong honey liquor, reminiscent of warm summer days, apple blossoms on the wind, with an unexpected aftertaste of Father going off to war, never to return. Bitter, to say the least. Garbolg's Backcountry Reserve. Likely dropped to avoid seizure by authorities, or because of seizure due to drinking it. Garbolg only brewed from to Blessed , killed when the vapors in his beard spontaneously combusted. Golden Scythe Black. This battlefield spirit maintains a chill even in direct sunlight, which it appears to absorb.

Optimal serving is by the drop. Contact with exposed flesh is discouraged, but likely inevitable.

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Peculiar and rare, a single run of this spirit took color and what has been optimistically called flavor from lyrium in the cask's bilge hoop. A sipping whisky if you value your innards. Circa T. Tevinter -brewed for a very discreet clientele, and strong enough to fluster a Tranquil. An almost weightless spirit best served with a powdering of catsbane as a flavor enhancer and antidote. Mackay's Epic Single Malt. This whisky is older than the Maker and smoother than elven baby-butt.

A wine with hues that range from blood to fire, always in that order. In the South, take a single draught, shout, "She is with us," and throw the remainder into a fireplace. In the North, draw steel and march. An artisanal treatment of a Tevinter slave wine. Grape pomace is soaked and pressed, then buried for a year under the wastes where the first Archdemon fell.

One assumes. They keep finding the stuff. The last bottling from the legendary vintners of Ferelden before lands were divided. Tears on the glass as slow as the turning of a reluctant heir, as quick on the tongue as words that can't be unsaid. A hard liquor that is not so much served as it is brandished. Coarse and indifferent, it is to your taste, or it is not. The failing is yours if you cannot raise—or lower—to the challenge of a distiller told not to. Delicate to the nose, comfort to the tongue, and, strangely, a half-remembered whisper to the ears.

It is described as—and inspires—a wistful spirit. A vintner's opus. This bottling reflects my wish that the current crop of behatted self-styled cads would disappear. Careful, this one's mean. Attic-raised mean. Popular among highborn who wish to seem dangerous, but more at home grasped by the neck by those who actually are. An Orlesian liqueur for the daring, or those who wish to seem so.

Said to enhance sensation. And at the bottom, an erotically carved peach pit. The design is plain, but the bottler assures that the act of carving was scandalous. Not so much filtered as dredged. Should be kept in a cold, dark place. Also locked. Forgotten as well, if one is wise. Codex entry Caspar the Magnificent. King Caspar the Magnificent saw one hundred and twenty-seven summers before he finally left for eternal slumber beneath our great kingdom.

Even on that last day, the king sparred with his great-grandson, Mathas the Glorious, and bested him. King Caspar showed no signs of weakness or decrepitude in his advanced age, and proved more than a match for the much younger man. Caspar met every blow Mathas delivered, and returned each with twice the vigor. In the end, the great king threw his grandson to the ground, and with one stroke of his sword, sheared the beard clean off Mathas's chin.

Chastised, Mathas sent for his attendants, and bade them to bathe and groom him. Thereafter, his chin was always shaved obsessively close to the skin. As for the king, he retired to his chambers for his afternoon nap. When it came time for supper, the servants were unable to rouse him. And that is how King Caspar the Magnificent, sixty years the supreme lord of Nevarra , finally set aside his crown. Codex entry Common Curses. So, lad—you're getting your sight straight in your first days topside, so here's some advice: you're not just trading with kin.

You're selling to all kinds of folk now, with different customs and tongues. As I've learned here, the most important part of any language is the cussing. It gets you trust. It gets you coin. Most elves you see in the city are servants, and a human looking for a fight might call one "knife-ear. Those Dalish elves use "flat-ear" to insult the ones who live with humans—like our unenlightened kin below calling us Stone -blind up here.

Even the humans who pray to some woman they burned alive—and her god they call "the Maker "—say something when they knock their shins. It's a curse to say " Andraste 's Chantry folk also don't like mages. If you hear a mage called a "spellbind," hide anything flammable. Then there are all those beautiful words that just mean "Sod it! Codex entry Constellation: Belenas.

According to Avvar legend, Korth the Mountain-Father kept his throne at the peak of the mountain Belenas, which lay at the center of the world and was so lofty that from it, he could see all the corners of the earth and sky. Over time, bold young Avvar would challenge each other to scale the mountain of the gods.

At first, Korth found this amusing, and he delighted in the valor of their failed attempts to enter his hold. Then Sindri Sky-Breaker, boldest of the heroes of old, succeeded in climbing to the summit and stood in the Hall of the Mountain-Father in the flesh. Korth, being a good sport, gave Sindri a hero's welcome, and the mortal returned to the Frostbacks with tales of gods and gifts from Korth, and soon more and more heroes were barging into the hall of the Mountain-Father demanded to be showered with honors.

Korth grew weary of throwing banquets, and the other gods began to fear his temper. So Korth spoke to the Lady of the Skies and lifted Belenas from the earth into her realm, which could not be reached even by the most intrepid climber, and there he dwells in peace. Codex entry Constellation: Bellitanus. Referred to as "the Maiden" in common parlance, depictions of the constellation Bellitanus vary from one Age to the next.

It has always been considered fashionable for prominent women of the day to be declared the Maiden's personification: Queen Madrigal in the Exalted Age , for instance, and Queen Asha before her. None of these women would likely appreciate the fact that Bellitanus is believed to have originally referred to Urthemiel , the Old God of Beauty. Codex entry Constellation: Draconis. Called " High Dragon " in common parlance, the constellation Draconis is always depicted by a dragon in flight. Recently, it has come into question whether this was the case in the ancient Imperium.

Most Tevinter dragon imagery was reserved for the Old Gods , so why would they dedicate a constellation to dragons in general when specific dragons were held in such reverence? This speculation is fueled by older drawings showing Draconis as more serpentine in appearance, perhaps depicting a sea creature or an unknown eighth Old God that was stricken from historical record. Codex entry Constellation: Eluvia. Owing primarily to the popular Orlesian tale of the same name, the constellation Eluvia is commonly referred to as "Sacrifice. The daughter became the constellation, depicted as a seated woman with her head in the clouds.

Prior to this tale, Eluvia was though to represent Razikale , the Tevinter Old God of mystery, and the constellation was the source of many superstitions involving the granting of wishes. Codex entry Constellation: Equinor. Referred to as "the Stallion" in common parlance, the constellation Equinor has historically been depicted either as a rearing horse or a seated griffon. Some scholars speculate that the constellation's original image was that of a halla , which could indicate a deliberate supplantation of the constellation's original representation as Ghilan'nain , the elven goddess also known as "Mother of the Halla.

Codex entry Constellation: Fenrir. Called "White Wolf" in common parlance, Fenrir has always been considered an oddity among scholars, primarily because wolves have no special place within ancient Tevinter folklore. To many, this represents the strongest argument that the Imperium deliberately supplanted older elven constellation names—in the case of Fenrir, an alignment with the elven trickster god, Fen'Harel , would be logical.

Others claim a much older Neromenian tale of a wolf escaping hunters by fleeing into the sky exists, but the legend's veracity has never been proved. Codex entry Constellation: Fervenial. Commonly referred to as "the Oak," the constellation Fervanis is generally represented by a towering tree with leafless branches. Many scholars believe this is a representation of nature that harkens back to the lore of the early Neromenians , whose beliefs largely aligned with animism, prior to the rise of Old God worship and the creation of the Tevinter Imperium.

Others, however, believe Fervanis was originally a constellation of the elven people - specifically, a depiction of Andruil , goddess of the Hunt. Codex entry Constellation: Fulmenos. Commonly known as "the Thunderbolt," the constellation Fulmenos depicts a bolt of lightning thrown by a wrathful god. Which god has always been a matter of dispute. Each of the Old Gods of Tevinter has been credited as the thrower, with the target being anything from the lost city of Barindur to a jester who made a particularly heinous pun. Codex entry Constellation: Judex.

Depicted as a downturned sword, the constellation Judex is oft-called "the Sword of Mercy" in common parlance—even though the sword image was assigned to these stars long before Andraste 's time. Obviously, with its modern meaning and use as a symbol by the Templar Order , the old interpretation is frowned upon in scholarly circles. Codex entry Constellation: Kios. Referred to as "Chaos" in common parlance, the constellation Kios is thought to represent the Old God Zazikel. These stars have often been depicted as ill omens; thus, in the Towers Age , a movement within the Chantry sought to change the constellation to a representation of a dove.

It did not gain traction. According to folklore, the priest behind the effort fell from a bridge and died shortly after Divine Joyous II made the decision against her. I maintain that this never actually happened and is nothing more than astrological superstition. Codex entry Constellation: Peraquialus. Referred to as "Voyager" in common parlance, the constellation Peraquialus is commonly depicted as a ship—no ordinary ship, but rather the primitive vessels sailed by ancient peoples such as the Neromenians.

The translation from Ancient Tevene is usually "across the sea," and lends credence to the idea that the Neromenians came to Thedas from elsewhere, although most reputable scholars dispute this, especially considering those ancient peoples would likely to have named these stars long before they undertook such a voyage. Codex entry Constellation: Satinalis. Referred to as either "Satina" after the moon or as "Satinalia" after the holiday in common parlance, the constellation Satinalis has always been depicted by the Celebrant: a seated man playing a lyre.

It should be noted that, in ancient Tevinter , the constellation was known as "Mortemalis," and was represented by a warrior holding aloft a head usually that of an elf. The movement to officially rename it took hold in the Divine Age , and after eight hundred years, the original is all but forgotten. Codex entry Constellation: Servani. Referred to as "the Chained Man" in common parlance, the constellation Servani is traditionally represented by a man dragging a heavy chain behind him. This is thought to be an ancient Tevinter representation both of Andoral , the Old God of slaves, and of the Tevinter system of slavery itself.

The representation of Servani has been used by the Trisalus guild for well over two thousand years according to their claim , and is visibly imprinted upon the armor of both Juggernauts, the giant golems guarding the gates to the city of Minrathous. Codex entry Constellation: Silentir.

Referred to as "Silence" in the common parlance, the constellation Silentir is historically attributed to Dumat , the Old God of Silence and leader of the ancient Tevinter pantheon. The depiction of the constellation, however, is often debated. Some depict a dragon in flight, while others also the most common modern depictions show a man carrying a horn and a wand.

Some scholars believe these represented scales, which would point to this constellation being a supplantation of the elven Mythal , but nothing indicates this to be more than speculation. Codex entry Constellation: Solium. There are two common interpretations regarding the history behind the constellation Solium, commonly referred to as "the Sun. Indeed, many believe proper depiction of Solium is as both. The second interpretation is that this constellation originally represented Elgar'nan , the head of the elven pantheon who was also known as "Eldest of the Sun. Codex entry Constellation: Tenebrium.

Called "Shadow" in the common parlance, likely due to the ancient association of the constellation Tenebrium with Lusacan , the Old God of darkness and the night. It is odd, however, that the depiction for this constellation has always been an owl and not a dragon, even in the Tevinter texts. This lends credence to the widely-held belief that Tenebrium was a name meant to supplant an older, elven association—perhaps with the elven god Falon'Din , sometimes represented in tales as a giant owl. There is, of course, another explanation: owls are nocturnal hunters, and among earlier people, were considered terrifying omens of loss.

Codex entry Constellation: Toth. The only constellation to maintain its ancient name in the present day, the constellation Toth directly corresponds to the ancient Tevinter Old God known as Toth , the Dragon of Fire. The depiction of this constellation varies, usually represented either as a man aflame in agony, presumably a victim of the Old God or as a flaming orb. Scholars in the Divine Age attempted to officially change the nomenclature to "Ignifir" this is why some old texts record it as such , but the attempt never caught on, even after the eradication of Old God worship in the Imperium.

Codex entry Constellation: Visus. Known as "the Watchful Eye" in common parlance, this constellation had great significance to the ancient Alamarri and Cirianne peoples of southern Thedas. The story goes that the Lady of the Skies opened one eye so that the light from her gaze could lead her people safely from the Frostbacks. When Andraste's armies marched north from their ancestral lands to wage war upon Tevinter , they were guided by the Eye, and it became the Maker's gaze—not the Lady's— leading them to victory.

The sword was added later; it is said that the star that marks the point of its blade only appeared in the night sky after Andraste's death. The early Inquisition took Visus as the symbol of their holy calling when they joined the Andrastian faith: the Eye representing both their search for maleficarum and the Maker's judgment upon their actions. When the Inquisition ended and became the Seekers of Truth and the Templar Order , the templars took the sword while the Seekers retained the eye.

Codex entry Darktown's Deal. Ask the nobles of Orzammar how their kingdom gets silks and grain and wine from the surface, and they'll tell you "trade with the surface occurs. As if on its own. With no traders or merchants or human farmers involved. A little miracle of dwarven ingenuity. Orzammar relies upon the surface not just for its prosperity, but for its survival. Ages of Blights have taken thousands of thaigs away from the dwarves. These were the places where most of the food was raised. The dwarven kingdom that endured alone, independent beneath the Stone from time immemorial, perished in the First Blight , faded into myth.

Now, the remaining dwarves underground cling to existence through a lifeline to the surface, a chain forged from the casteless. Every dwarf who goes to the surface is stripped of caste , effectively exiled and removed from dwarven society forever. But Orzammar relies on continued relations with these exiles to live. This has created a shadowy area of dwarven trade and politics where the rich, powerful, and elite maintain secret ties to people who, by official decree, no longer exist. And everyone knows what kinds of things lurk in the shadows.

The Carta lives in the underbelly of the surface trade like a tapeworm. Many surface dwarves maintain ties—not officially recognized, of course, but respectable—to their former houses in the Noble or Merchant Castes , and those contacts are their means of trading with Orzammar. Those who have no ties, because they were cast off by their families or never had good connections, make the trip back underground to trade with Orzammar personally, where they find themselves treated like criminals. A casteless in Orzammar, even a wealthy one from the surface, will be driven away from most merchants, treated like he's carrying a plague at best.

So these surface merchants turn to the Carta for help. The Carta acts as a contact in Orzammar for surface businesses and sells their goods on the black market. For a cut, of course. The Carta always gets its cut. The outraged citizens of Orzammar sometimes petition the Assembly to deal with the rampant crime surrounding the black market, and showy displays are made of kicking in the doors to Carta hideouts and razing Dust Town.

But the Carta always comes back, because the Assembly always allows it. Too much of Orzammar is dependent on the black market trade, and the nobles know it.

Codex Fat (My Encounters with the Spiritual Book 5) Codex Fat (My Encounters with the Spiritual Book 5)
Codex Fat (My Encounters with the Spiritual Book 5) Codex Fat (My Encounters with the Spiritual Book 5)
Codex Fat (My Encounters with the Spiritual Book 5) Codex Fat (My Encounters with the Spiritual Book 5)
Codex Fat (My Encounters with the Spiritual Book 5) Codex Fat (My Encounters with the Spiritual Book 5)
Codex Fat (My Encounters with the Spiritual Book 5) Codex Fat (My Encounters with the Spiritual Book 5)
Codex Fat (My Encounters with the Spiritual Book 5) Codex Fat (My Encounters with the Spiritual Book 5)

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