"Wait," says Dagna, "if it's a magic thing and not an actual blood blood thing, does it make a difference if the person is a dwarf?"
"...I'm not sure," says Metella.
"Well, could you test it?"
"I am technically able to, but that would be blood magic, which is illegal."
"Not in Orzammar!"
Metella pauses.
"And for that matter if I turn out not to go to the Fade when I dream and this may have magical implications... Also, darkspawn bleed, what about them."
"Is there any reason I couldn't publish them?"
"If you ever wanted to visit a Circle, being known as that dwarf who does research on blood magic might make you unwelcome there."
"Oh." Dagna looks conflicted. "But it's interesting!"
"Not easily, not to the necessary standard," says Metella. "Mages who are known to have done blood magic are almost invariably killed. As a Grey Warden I have some protection, but if I ever want to return to the Circle of Magi in Ferelden, I cannot be traceably associated with this sort of thing."
"It still might be useful to know in case you're ever around a lot of injured darkspawn or dwarves who have my regeneration power on and need magical power in an emergency."
"Lots of people tell themselves it's an emergency right before they make a very bad decision," says Metella. "I think I'd be reasonable about it, but wouldn't most people think they were going to be reasonable?"
"Are you saying it's addictive?"
"It might be. Or maybe it's just that you already have to be a little bit irresponsible to do something that you know will get you killed if you're caught. The trouble is that I don't know. Careful small-scale tests of power are one thing, but I'm very, very reluctant to entertain the idea of actually using blood magic in combat."
"Is any other magic addictive?"
"Not that I know of, unless you count demon summoning, where the more straightforward explanation is that once you have been possessed by a demon you probably aren't in control of your actions anymore. And in fact, templars get addicted to lyrium, but mages don't."
"Isn't lyrium poisonous? Why are templars exposing themselves enough to get addicted in the first place?"
"Wait, really?" says Dagna.
"Yes. And it doesn't necessarily help to stop taking it. You don't see many old templars or ex-templars. After the age of about forty or fifty, continued lyrium use will have killed them, and if they try to stop taking it the withdrawal is often fatal as well."
"I've heard that careless enchanters get a bit addled, but nothing like that!"
"Dwarves are different."
"I'm suddenly really curious about the economics behind this. Who pays templars and buys their lyrium? How do mages tend to support themselves, I imagine there's plenty of options but I don't actually know what mages can do?"
"The templars are part of the Chantry. While it's possible for mages to support themselves by doing magic, we're not very popular because of demon- and blood-magic-related reputational effects, so most of the income of any Circle comes from selling enchanted objects made by the Tranquil."
"The incentives here sound... I'm pretty sure I could design something more likely to encourage unnecessary Tranquilization and general mistreatment of mages but it would be a job."
"Yes," says Metella. "It's worse than it sounds, actually. When I said that people caught doing blood magic are almost invariably killed, the thing that happens the rest of the time is that they're made Tranquil. And every mage, when we graduate to full mage from student, has to go through a test called the Harrowing, the details of which are secret. If we fail, we're made Tranquil. If we choose not to be tested, we're made Tranquil. The test itself is... reasonable in theory, but implemented in an unnecessarily dangerous way, so sometimes students are hurt or killed by it."
"Who becomes a mage in the first place, and how?" asks Annie.
"No kidding!" exclaims Dagna.