Vallaslin

AKA: Blood Writing

If you’ve ever met me, or any other adult Dalish elf, you probably noticed something that allowed you to determine our heritage at a glance. No, not the ears, but those are in the right area, at least. I’m talking about the elaborate facial tattoos that each of us sport, the proper name for which is Vallaslin. It’s sometimes called blood writing, as well, and is part of a sacred coming-of-age ceremony for a young Dalish. This doesn’t happen at a particular age, but when that elf has proven that they have matured enough to accept the responsibilities that come with being an adult. The recipient meditates, cleanses themselves, and then has to keep silent as the Keeper of the clan performs the ritual by applying the ink to their face. The various patterns each represent a different god of the elven pantheon, with the exception of Fen’Harel, though there are other, unique designs as well. My personal Vallaslin represents Mythal, for example. As such, it matches with those of the Sentinels who guarded her temple in the Arbor Wilds, with a few variations in the amount of detail. While mine is green, Vallaslin can be almost any color. Green, grey, brown, and black are the most common colors, but shades of red are not unheard of. Also, the tattoo can be completely opaque or a bit hazy. I actually don’t know if there’s any real thought put into that or the color, or if it’s just Keeper’s choice, to be honest. I must have not gotten to that part of my First training. Or I wasn’t paying attention. Though the practice might seem odd or silly to some {Sera, to be precise, but probably others, too}, the granting of the Vallaslin is an important event in the life of any Dalish. It is a moment of acceptance as well as a respectful homage to the past that has been taken away from them. During my inquisiting, however, I found hints that it had a darker purpose. Specifically, as he made his final stand, Corypheus explicitly referred to my Vallaslin as “slave markings.” While his credibility was obviously questionable at all times, let alone as I was in the act of killing him, that is an extremely strange and specific insult. And Cory generally told the truth, at least how he saw it. And while discovering history-shattering revelations has become a bit of a hobby of mine, I really hope I don’t have to make one about the tree on my own face.