Forgive the tardiness of this report, but I had to know for certain that what we saw at the Temple of Dirthamen was exactly what it seemed.
The Temple of Dirthamen was mostly intact, despite terrible flooding. The ceiling was collapsed in places, but otherwise, it is a most remarkably preserved elven ruin. The reason for this is a magical artifact the ancient elves placed there. I have left the artifact in place, so that the temple might be revisited.
What we uncovered at the temple was a terrible ancient magic. The Veilfire runes there told the story of the so-called Highest One, the high priest of Dirthamen. He was a fanatic who decided he would seal the temple, with all the priests inside, as a way to protect Dirthamen's secrets. The priests chose not to kill him, but to dismember him, using the magic of Veilfire to keep him alive. His spirit was trapped in the Beyond, unable to pass on. The dismembered parts of his body still lived. Reassembling him summoned his spirit, but after so many years of torment, he had become a spirit of despair and had to be killed.
I have attached a translation of the story told in the Veilfire runes.
Why this magic existed, and why the ancient elves were so careless to use it and damage the Veil instead of killing the man, I do not know. I doubt they would innovate something so extraordinary strictly to stage some elaborate mutiny. Perhaps the ancient elves were simply that ruthless. Or, perhaps we have found actual evidence that ancient elves believed themselves immortal, whether it is true or no. Perhaps they did this because they did not believe the Highest One could be killed.
I do not know what will happen to elves, especially elven mages, if people learn that elven magic has produced something so terrible. But I serve the Inquisition by uncovering history, not covering it up. I put this in your hands.
Dareth Shiral, Pel
We few whisper here where shadow dwells. Some words remain unuttered. Truths are pushed down, down Where they shall never arise again.
Dirthamen is gone, he said. Our Highest One brings to us this gravest news. What shall we do? Where shall we go? What of the old secrets that burn within our hearts?
They will come for us in the night Those who could steal the words from our lips And our god no longer rises to our defense. We claw at the walls, at the walls. Now we pray for a dawn that will never arrive.
Our Highest One, he deceives us. The honeyed words that drip from his tongue We know the despair they mask. We disciples of Dirthamen know truth, now as ever.
The Highest One promises safety. I shall protect our ancient secrets, he claims All that Dirthamen once granted us will be safe. But it is our blood he seeks A sacrifice dark and unholy A prison of evil to keep us in and all else out.
We will not have it, will not have it! The secrets are madness in our ears, but they are ours The Highest One cannot take them from us. Only Dirthamen, our Keeper, only he And if he does not take the secrets They are ours forever.
His mind which cannot think His tongue which cannot speak His hands which cannot touch His ears which cannot hear His eyes which cannot see And thus shall our Highest One be bound. He shall join us in our Silence.
For his heart, for his heart Our Highest One is bound. The secret that he keeps, he keeps with us The vigil that he keeps, he keeps with us His fear will not weaken us No-one shall come, dear mentor. In our eternity, only darkness reigns.
A report delivered to Morrigan's desk
Copied to Morrigan
Forgive the tardiness of this report, but I had to know for certain that what we saw at the Temple of Dirthamen was exactly what it seemed.
The Temple of Dirthamen was mostly intact, despite terrible flooding. The ceiling was collapsed in places, but otherwise, it is a most remarkably preserved elven ruin. The reason for this is a magical artifact the ancient elves placed there. I have left the artifact in place, so that the temple might be revisited.
What we uncovered at the temple was a terrible ancient magic. The Veilfire runes there told the story of the so-called Highest One, the high priest of Dirthamen. He was a fanatic who decided he would seal the temple, with all the priests inside, as a way to protect Dirthamen's secrets. The priests chose not to kill him, but to dismember him, using the magic of Veilfire to keep him alive. His spirit was trapped in the Beyond, unable to pass on. The dismembered parts of his body still lived. Reassembling him summoned his spirit, but after so many years of torment, he had become a spirit of despair and had to be killed.
I have attached a translation of the story told in the Veilfire runes.
Why this magic existed, and why the ancient elves were so careless to use it and damage the Veil instead of killing the man, I do not know. I doubt they would innovate something so extraordinary strictly to stage some elaborate mutiny. Perhaps the ancient elves were simply that ruthless. Or, perhaps we have found actual evidence that ancient elves believed themselves immortal, whether it is true or no. Perhaps they did this because they did not believe the Highest One could be killed.
I do not know what will happen to elves, especially elven mages, if people learn that elven magic has produced something so terrible. But I serve the Inquisition by uncovering history, not covering it up. I put this in your hands.
Dareth Shiral,
Pel
We few whisper here where shadow dwells.
Some words remain unuttered.
Truths are pushed down, down
Where they shall never arise again.
Dirthamen is gone, he said.
Our Highest One brings to us this gravest news.
What shall we do? Where shall we go?
What of the old secrets that burn within our hearts?
They will come for us in the night
Those who could steal the words from our lips
And our god no longer rises to our defense.
We claw at the walls, at the walls.
Now we pray for a dawn that will never arrive.
Our Highest One, he deceives us.
The honeyed words that drip from his tongue
We know the despair they mask.
We disciples of Dirthamen know truth, now as ever.
The Highest One promises safety.
I shall protect our ancient secrets, he claims
All that Dirthamen once granted us will be safe.
But it is our blood he seeks
A sacrifice dark and unholy
A prison of evil to keep us in and all else out.
We will not have it, will not have it!
The secrets are madness in our ears, but they are ours
The Highest One cannot take them from us.
Only Dirthamen, our Keeper, only he
And if he does not take the secrets
They are ours forever.
His mind which cannot think
His tongue which cannot speak
His hands which cannot touch
His ears which cannot hear
His eyes which cannot see
And thus shall our Highest One be bound.
He shall join us in our Silence.
For his heart, for his heart
Our Highest One is bound.
The secret that he keeps, he keeps with us
The vigil that he keeps, he keeps with us
His fear will not weaken us
No-one shall come, dear mentor.
In our eternity, only darkness reigns.