Codex text

If the Inquisitor sided with the templars: Elves continue to attack. Our strongest wards, our most cunning traps only slow them down, yet they panic. Corypheus warned us that we would face the Sentinels of Mythal's temple, and now we are at their doorstep. We have slain enough elves that they must know we will rip the Well of Sorrows from them. We must be the first true threat they have encountered since they began their long watch, thousands of years ago.

I expected these Sentinels to fight as the Dalish do, but they are a magnitude more dangerous than their cousins. There is a magic about these elves I have felt in only one other thing: the orb Corypheus carries with him. The flavor of their power is all too similar. The Master must have suspicions, but has not shared them with me, promising all understanding when I become the Vessel for the knowledge in the temple. I believe him, but he has not yet forbidden me from making inquiries of my own. Burn this once you are done, and prepare for instructions one week hence. By then I will know enough to set you on the correct path.

—Encrypted letter from Calpernia to her top operative, sent out before the battle of the Arbor Wilds. Intercepted and decrypted by Leliana's spies.

If the Inquisitor sided with the mages: Elves ambushed us just when the Master said they would, five days into the Wilds. They move faster than any elf I've seen, and they know the forest like they were born of it. The ones who escape melt back into the shadows. They're strong, and they know no fear; every damn elf we cut down fights 'til the last.

The attacks have slowed since we doubled the watch. We've killed enough to make them pause. Corypheus says the elves call themselves "Sentinels." We were going over the plan for the final assault on their temple, and he told me the elves we're fighting are the last "true" priests of their Old Gods. Before I could stop myself, I asked how he knew. I felt like a damn fool the moment the words left my mouth, but the Master just looked at me, then opened his hand. A second later, that magic orb was floating over it.

He told me it was elven, that events made him believe it came to him for a purpose. The Master turned, and I thought I was dismissed, but his voice stopped me before I left. He said, solemn as I've ever known him, that there were many things he couldn't tell me, that he hid them so I would stay focused on the Well. He said that while I'll sacrifice much, there will be no secrets once I've become the Vessel.

I left then, but I can't stop thinking about it. I'd swear there was regret in those last words. Wish I knew exactly what for.

—Charred excerpt from a logbook kept by Samson, recovered by Inquisition spies from the wreckage of a red templar camps in the Arbor Wilds. The rest of the book is too blackened by fire to make out.