Folklore And History - Blog Posts

Day 2 - Folklore and History

A 100 word drabble for @cityelfweek :3 [divider credit]

A preacher's visit was always frustrating.

"What about us?" one of the kids whined.

"What do you mean?" Kallian whispered.

"What about us!"

"You and me? Girls? Elves?"

She fiercely nodded at the last word and Kallian smiled.

"I'll tell you later."

Afterwards, Kallian, Soris, and Shianni slipped under a boardwalk and waited for their audience.

They grabbed whatever props they could – loose string and pigeon feathers – and spoke of Aderyn, a city elf who weaved and stitched the birds and the sky to remind them that they could do more.

They never needed to know it was made up.

City Elf Appreciation Week- Day 2 - Folklore (and history)

Day 2 - Folklore (and history) for @cityelfweek

- Show the folklore that city elves have created over time. Superstitions, stories, heroes, villains... anything!

“Did yah hear! Did yah hear!”

“Hear what Lani?”

“The bride spirit! The bride spirit killed all the snooty shem up in the castle!!”

“That’s nonsense, Lani. Spirits aren’t real.”

“They are too Peytor!”

“Yeah, well why are you only just telling me about this ‘bride spirit’ if they’re real? Hmm? I bet you don’t even know what they look like.” Peytor rolled his eyes and pretended to humour his young cousin, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed with a mix of agitation and childlike wonder.

“I d-d-do too! She’s super pretty! Prettier than Mamae!” The little girl fisted her tiny hands in her penefor, stomping her feet.

“Oh yeah?” Unimpressed, Peytor grabbed a stick and started to scratch patterns in the dirt.”What do they look like then, that you’d risk Aunties wrath?”

“She’s beautiful! Her eyes are red like my bird's favorite berries! And her hair is so hot it’s on fire!”

“So she’s a wrath demon?”

“Nuh-uh! She’s vengeance, Peytor! And her wedding dress is so pretty and sparkly, nothing can make it dirty!” Lani was twirling her own dress, its dirtiness forgotten in the fantasy.

“If she killed all them shem, how is she still clean? That doesn’t make sense, dummy.” Peytor’s drawing was taking shape. Fiery hair, big ol eyes. Fangs.

“She’s a bride, duh, they’re always clean and pretty. BUT!” Lani jumped, arms raised, little hands waving pudgy fingers. “Everywhere she walks she leaves a trail of shem blood!” the little girl grinned, her eyes scrunched up in little girl glee, her ears pricked up in excitement.

“That’s gross, Lani” he laughed, scribbling more waves of blood onto his dirt doodle.

“Is not, she’s beautiful~” The girl giggled again. 

As a couple of adults walked by,  Peytor pulled his cousin out of the way. Glancing at them, an elven woman with crimson eyes caught his, winking once, before looping her arm around her companion and going on their way.

So I'm playing dai and I only notice today, 8 years later that the redcliffe chantry has a stained glass depicting what i can only assume to be shartan in pride of place. Like this would have been hovering over the sisters and congregation each day. Isn't he considered to be heresy by the chantry? I'm so intrigued by his very prominent inclusion ... I'm so curious on what happened in redcliffe that led to his likeness remaining

Day #16: Bonus

Shartan 9

The rebel slaves flee

For twenty days and twenty nights the People ran,

With the footsteps of the legion ever at their backs.

No rest could they find, since their flight from Vol Dorma.

The People cried out in despair:

"Alas, that we ever left Vol Dorma!

Better we had died there than to be hunted like sport on the plains."

Among the People, some began to whisper of returning

To the city and throwing themselves

At the feet of their former masters,

And Shartan heard them.

Shartan rallies the elves

As the People paused to break bread at the foot

Of the hill the Tevinters called "the Lonely One,"

Shartan stood on the hilltop and spoke, saying:

"Some among you wish to flee back to your masters,

To throw yourselves at their feet and ask forgiveness.

You have left that path. It is already gone.

Your feet can never again tread the dust of Vol Dorma.

"He who asks for the mercy of the masters

Will stand accountable for murder and theft

And be made example for the slaves of other cities,

That they might not have the courage to rise up.

"They will taunt you and humiliate you

While they hang you in the marketplace.

They will pelt you with offal while they call you

Broken, a coward, and a failure.

"A dog might slink back to the hand it has bitten

And be forgiven, but a slave never.

If you would live, and live without fear, you must fight."

And the People heard the truth in Shartan's voice,

And some cursed themselves and their fate and despaired.

And others began to fashion spears and bows

From the branches of trees, and girded themselves

With bark and scraps torn from their sandals

And dug pits in the earth with their hands.

The elves ambush the legion

Darkness fell upon the Lonely One,

A night without moon or stars,

As the legion followed, like bloodhounds,

The trail of the rebels.

And when the hunters reached the foot

Of the solitary hill, they found nothing,

The trail of their quarry vanished, as if the People

Had taken wing.

The officers began to curse their men

And blame one another for losing the trail,

And the soldiers fell to bickering among themselves.

In silence all around them, the People crept out

From holes clawed in the earth, and with harvesting blades

And arrows chipped from stones,

Fell upon the unwary legion and slaughtered them to a man.

The elves celebrate their victory

And the People raised the blades of the fallen soldiers to the heavens

And rejoiced. And Shartan said to them:

"No longer are we hunted! We shall never again

Be prey, waiting to be struck down!

Let us take up the blades of our enemies

And carve a place for ourselves in this world!"

The People heard him, and girded themselves

In the armor of the dead

And sharpened their blades and arrows

And prepared for war.

The army of Andraste arrives

As the People danced over the corpses

Of slain soldiers, a thunder filled the air

And the ground trembled, and a hush fell over them,

As they knew a terrible omen had come.

From afar, they heard the sound

Of ten thousand voices raised in song,

And the marching of a great host.

Shartan goes forth to meet the army

Seeing an army beyond counting gathered in the distance,

Shartan said to the People

"Let us not fall into the jaws of the wolf together.

I will go alone and see what army comes,

Singing, to the land of Tevinter."

Across the empty plains Shartan crept

To where the great host camped, the light from countless fires

Guiding him through the darkness.

Then a great hand clamped down upon Shartan's neck,

And he was lifted into the air. And he looked into the eyes

Of a towering creature, taller than any legion soldier, featured like a man

But covered in fur like a beast and bearing a mighty shield.

Havard the Aegis greets Shartan

The creature spoke in a stern voice, saying:

"Why are you to come upon us alone,

Wearing the armor of our most hated foe,

When I can see you are no man of the legion?"

And Shartan answered him: "If you hate the legion,

Then I am your friend."

And the giant laughed, and set him back upon his feet,

Declaring: "Then the Aegis of Alamarri bids you welcome!

Follow me to the side of the Prophet."

Shartan meets Andraste

The Aegis led him to the center of the great host,

And Shartan saw that they counted men and women of all descriptions among them.

Many bore the scars of escaped slaves, and some had come west

From the coastlands, and they stood as equals beside the wild giant men of the South.

There, in the heart of them, sang a Lady radiant

And clad in armor of bright steel.

She paused her song to look upon Shartan,

And said to him: "All souls who take up the sword

Against Tevinter are welcome here.

Rest, and tell us of your battles."

And Shartan told her: "I cannot rest

While the People wait in darkness and fear."

So Andraste sent him with three of her attendants

To invite the People to come to her side.

And the People came, all astonished

To stand among Andraste's followers,

And she gave them food and drink and bade them sit

While Shartan gave her the tale of their uprising

And flight from Val Dorma.

When the tale was finished, Andraste said to Shartan:

"Truly, the Maker has called you, just as He called me,

To be a Light for your People.

The host you see before you march,

Bearing His will north, where we shall deliver it

To Minrathous city of magisters, and we shall tear down

The unassailable gates, and set all slaves free."

And Shartan looked upon the Prophet Andraste

And said: "The People will set ourselves free.

Your host from the South may march

Alongside us.

The giants of the South rose to their feet as one

And bowed. And Andraste said:

"It is done. We march as one."

—Shartan 9:1-9:28, Dissonant Verse

Shartan 10

The armies clash on Valarian Fields

At Shartan's word, the sky

Grew black with arrows.

At Our Lady's, ten thousand swords

Rang from their sheaths.

A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly, proclaiming:

Those who had been slaves were now free.

The legion fell before them

Like wheat before the scythe,

But the armies of Tevinter were numberless,

A sea of death which crashed upon

The Prophet and her army like waves.

Shartan rescues Andraste

The host of the Lady

Began to falter. The legion

Turned spear and sword, fire

And ice upon them, and the warriors

Of the Prophet were scattered,

Divided from their commanders

By magic, penned like cattle for slaughter.

Shartan saw that walls of ice

Surrounded Andraste and her warriors,

And he rallied the People.

And with arrows aflame,

The walls of magic melted

And the Prophet and her warriors were free.

Andraste names Shartan her champion

And the Prophet stood beside Shartan

And shouted to her host:

"Behold! Our champion!"

And gave to him the blade of her own mother

From her own scabbard, Glandivalis, saying:

"Take this, my champion,

And free our people forever."

And the Prophet and the People

Struck down the mages of the legion

And claimed the field together.

And before them, empty,

Outstretched lay the land

Which led to the gates of Minrathous.

—Shartan 10:1-10:7, Dissonant Verse

I wish we could have gotten some cutscenes with Hawke teaching Fenris how to read — there’s like that offer in act 2 after giving him the Book of Shartan and the thought makes my heart soft <3

Progress Under Cut

damn 😳

Genres of popular Alienage songs, some specific to Denerim (many of these and especially the last one are courtesy of @bumblewarden ):

We Have To Work Tomorrow, Let's Get Drunk

We Have Finished Working For The Day, Let's Get Drunk

That Bastard Drank Away All The Money, Hope It's Nice To Sleep On The Street You Utter Moron

Love I Am Sorry For Drinking Away All The Money - The Hell You Are! Now Go Away (a soprano-barritone speak and answer duet)

Damn I Hope Work Finishes Soon

I Want To Kill My Boss (with metaphors)

I Want To Kill The Tax Collactor (with metaphors)

I Want To Kill The Local Lord (so many metaphors)

Ailill Got Into A Fight And Escaped The Guard

Ailill Got Into A Fight And Got Hanged For It

Little Lilan Killed A Rat

I Am A Woman And Violence Has Been Done Unto Me

I Am A Woman And Violence Has Been Done Unto Me, So I Am Poisoning Them

My Child Is Leaving For Their Wedding

I Am Leaving For My Wedding And I Can't Wait To Get Out Of Here

I Am Leaving For My Wedding And I Really Really Don't Want To Leave

Aw Fuck I Don't Like My Spouse

Holy Shit I Really Like My Spouse!?

Holy Shit I Really Like My Neighbor's Spouse (with metaphors)

Hey I Saw You Kissing Your Neighbor's Spouse (no metaphors)

Beware The Sea It's Full Of Monsters (in which the monsters are metaphors for slavers)

Garahel Killed The Archdemon

Garahel Killed The Archdemon And Still They Treat Us Like Shit

Hey Loghain We Fought With You Where's Our Reward (with some metaphors)

The Exploits Of The Hero Of Ferelden (with metaphors)

Alidda Killed The Chevaliers (so many metaphors)

The Exploits Of The Dark Wolf (ALL OF THE METAPHORS WHAT ARE YOU A SNITCH!?)

 obscure elven heroes! appreciation. post

The Pale Demon: after Orlais conquered Halamshiral in 2:20 Glory and the Dales fell, one of the Keepers of the diaspora clans became infamous for his vicious attacks on Orlesians. humans came to know him as the Pale Demon, for he set upon soldiers and even unprotected merchants with iceblasts and blizzards from his staff, even in summer. these attacks continued until chevaliers killed the Keeper and then slaughtered his entire clan. the staff he bore was called Yavanalis (it’s curious to me incidentally, that Flemythal named one of her daughters Yavana - any connection? maybe the two words share the same root word in elven).

Wenni di Ladia: a City Elf from Nevarra, she was one of the most famous elven heroes from the Towers Age. directly descended from one of the last Emerald Knights who protected the Dales, she took up her grandfather’s bow, Tenasarin (any relation to the river Tenasir, where shrines to the elven gods stood?), to fight when the Third Blight threatened Thedas. her deeds, skill and beauty inspired entire armies, such that I don’t think it would be a stretch to say Wenni was one of the Heroes of the Third Blight. after the Archdemon was defeated, her name launched revolts and rebellions in the alienages, becoming a rallying cry - mien’harel! human Marcher rulers were angered by this, and Wenni was forced to flee criminal accusations. she vanished into obscurity, not unlike some Wardens in some of the potential epilogue slides, but her legend still lives on in the hearts of City Elves. this is very important, because in the City Elf Origin elven children playing “Heroes and Humans” will tell Tabris that they don’t know any stories about elven heroes. I like to believe that Wenni’s story is one that every elven child knows and takes great pride and solace in, just like Garahel’s is noted to be. 

Rajmael: a great general. the elves of the Dales fought valiantly against the Exalted March, but defeat became obvious. in one last act of defiance, Rajmael threw his dragonbone waraxe, The Veshialle, at the oncoming enemy before committing suicide by jumping from the Forlorn Falls. his weapon is said to rebel against all but elven hands. Rajmael may have been an Emerald Knight. a verse in the Chant of Light insists that he recanted his faith in the Creators, but we all know that’s human bullshit. curiously, his tale bears some similarity to that of Nomaris, one of the last Emerald Knights alive after the Dales were destroyed. he too bore an axe - the Axe of Green Edges. he lodged it in a tree, declaring that it should remain there until his People were free, before flinging himself into a river, presumably to his death.

Iloren: the Keeper of a Dalish clan that wandered the Anderfels during the Second Blight, in a time when Keepers were priests that served as archivists and magical scholars. he was a hunter in his younger days, and as crafty as a wolf. he led his people in their flight from the darkspawn horde, staying always one step ahead by the grace of his wits alone. one night, the darkspawn cornered and ambushed them. but the dark ones fell into Iloren’s trap. he and the other hahrens called upon the old magic, and with lightning set fire to dry grass and kindling that the hunters had strewn around the camp in preparation. the area went up in flames, and not a single creature made it through the blaze to harm his clan. today his tale is preserved in its most cherished form in books.

Willem Trialmont: a City Elf who followed a company of the Legion of the Dead for three days through the Deep Roads, doggedly intent on fighting darkspawn with his family blade - a fine elven sword which would later come to be known as Topsider’s Honor in light of his deeds. he was quiet but insistent; the dwarves, confused at why someone from the surface would care to combat darkspawn underground, initially thought that he wouldn’t last, and threatened to kill him if his actions put them at risk. but he shocked them, for later, they witnessed him fight like a man possessed, with incredibly light, silent strikes and marked precision. they toasted and broke bread with him, and when he died in 7:5 Storm, they extended that which was sacred to them and conveyed him to the Stone as if he’d been born a dwarf. his epitaph reads that he served the Deep Roads better than a native son. many Legionnaires lived to see another day because Willem fought at their side and fell in their place. in death, the dwarves lauded his honor and claimed him as a brother in blood. his story is one of true family beyond kin and taking up arms against darkness.

Alidda of Halamshiral: the most famous elven criminal in all of Orlais. a City Elf, she was arrested in 4:45 Black for killing three knights - a deed which hardly makes sense to pair with the word “crime”, as chevalier initiation practices involve “testing their blades” by entering alienage slums after dark to murder innocent elves who happen to be out after curfew. Divine Clemence I presided over Alidda’s trial, where it came to light that she had actually killed twelve chevaliers, in justified retaliation for the abhorrent graduation ritual. she escaped and killed twenty more chevaliers - two in single combat - before finally being cornered. rather than be captured, she cut her throat with Knightslayer, her own dagger.

Orahn: A Dalish smith known to have created fine weapons such as the Dal’Thanu waraxe that was an heirloom in the possession of Deygan’s family. His grandfather passed it down to him. Family legend holds that it was used to fight in the service of Andraste herself, meaning Orahn may have been a contemporary of Shartan.

Corimae: Presumably a City Elf, she owned a beautiful dagger called the Voice of Velvet. She was an assassin - possibly an Antivan Crow? - and when a nobleman refused to take her as a lover, she used the dagger to open his throat.

Sendis and Iselle: A Dalish archer and blood mage respectively, this brother and sister pair were part of a band of heroes that saved the Free Marcher city of Kaiten, having aided Viscount Ravi in preventing an abomination from destroying the place. Their clan was led by Keeper Tianne. Over time Iselle and Ravi became lovers, and she eventually died bearing their elf-blooded son Eiton. Sendis later saved his clan from blood magic control by calling on Ravi for help.

Embri of Gwaren: A City Elf, she was a mage, though unfortunately one of limited talent. Testament to her brave spirit and selfless desire to help, Embri volunteered of her own volition to be made Tranquil. As a Tranquil she proved to be a skilled enchanter, despite her absent-mindedness. She always kept an array of magical herbs and other ingredients at her belt, and eventually the belt itself came to hold magical properties. Embri died of lyrium poisoning.

Temolai: A skilled craftsman who made The Long Sight, a helm which grants a strange and unnerving acuity. He made one more helm better than it, but that helm allowed him to gaze upon the Black City, and he was lost forever.

Korin: An elven king, from a tall tale Tabris can tell children in the Denerim Alienage.

Tathas: A sneaky elven bandit, from a tall tale Tabris can tell children in the Denerim Alienage.

Blargha: A mighty elven warrior, from a tall tale Tabris can tell children in the Denerim Alienage.

This evening I'm thinking about him: Garahel. 🥺

Willem Trialmont, the honourable topsider.  A sort-of-cleaner version of the sketch I photographed a few days ago, with some very half-assed colours because I was bored.  Yes. 

The following text is my elaborate and lengthy headcanon for a character whose name is only mentioned once in a codex entry, constructed solely for the purpose of fic:

Willem is from the alienage in Val Royeaux.  (Reasoning behind this is that “Trialmont” sounds very Orlesian.)  Like Tabris from the city elf origin, he was secretly taught by a close family member how to wield the family longsword – the swordsmanship, the weapon, and the blade’s inscription traditions covertly passed on from generation to generation.  Weapons are discouraged in the Denerim alienage, so I assume they’re also frowned upon in Orlais.  The longsword is his most treasured possession, and the inscribed text defines his behaviour: “There must always be another to take up arms against the darkness. That is the core of true family beyond kin and the unifying link that will bring day to night and allow the fallen to rest.”

At some point in his youth, Willem no longer had a reason to remain in the alienage.  He probably sought out the Dalish as some city elves do.  He eventually finds a clan and they begrudgingly take him in.  There he hones his proficiency at fighting as well as learning the history of his people.  He spends many years with the Dalish until they accept him as their own.  (I kerfuffled with canon a bit and gave him vallaslin even though the Dalish don’t do the ritual on humans or city elves. However, the codex entry on vallaslin is unclear as to whether city elves who join the Dalish have the privilege of being tattooed or not, so I’m assuming the former for plot reasons.)

One day, Willem learns from the Keeper about the darkspawn and the Blights, as well as the Exalted March of the Dales.  He is appalled that the Dalish did not help defend Montsimmard and is unsatisfied with the reasons the elves provide.  He knows that the Dalish did not help the humans because they did not wish to interact with them in order to regain their lost heritage, but his Trialmont sensibilities found this behaviour selfish and unacceptable.  The conflicting opinions over this matter led to Willem leaving the clan.

Taking the words inscribed on his longsword to heart, Willem decides to go into the Deep Roads to find the darkspawn.  A Blight hasn’t occurred for around two Ages, and like in DA:O the common populace probably don’t really believe darkspawn are real.  Willem is determined to find out whether they still exist, so he travels to the Frostback Mountains to find an entrance underground.  He succeeds and enters the Deep Roads where he eventually runs into a group of Legionnaires trying to reclaim Bownammar.  And that’s when the codex entry happens.

(I did not make Willem a Grey Warden because part of the codex entry says, “Topsiders usually assume the end of a Blight erases the darkspawn from the world. Why does this one care that his victory just drives them back on our doorstep?”  It sounds like he’s a regular topsider, since Grey Wardens have reason to seek out darkspawn in the Deep Roads (e.g. for their Calling) and they aren’t unknown to the dwarves.)

By the Dread Wolf, that’s a lot of text.  Apparently tumblr doesn’t let me put things under cut for photo posts…

headcanon time - Lennan’s tattoos

(Copy pasted from a discord chat - so some of you have seen it already.)

The ‘crow’s wing’ tattoo is a symbol of the 'night guardian’ or 'watcher’ - a figure from the elven folklore: the keeper of secrets, the hoarder of whispers and the brother to the dead. Basically an amalgamation of the goth duo - Dirthamen and Falon'din. Linked to birds, good and bad luck, night and shadows. Can be both benevolent and capricious. Cruel, even. One eye in the waking world, the other in the Fade. You have to pass through his eyes to cross the Veil after you die. And if he doesn’t like what he sees, his Fade eye glazes over instead of showing you the way and you get trapped in the Fade forever and turn into something ugly and mean. 'May the watcher’s eye go green/dim/murky/piss/shut/stinky/rotten on ya’ is one of the many curses you may hear if you piss off a Denerim elf.  Gang thugs who get night guardian tattoos usually do it  a) to have the watcher’s protection, b) to be cool - because getting that much ink around your eyes is a pretty badass thing to pull off.  But Lenn actually likes the watcher a lot. Some of the best, spookiest alienage stories revolve around him.