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Written By Calliope

Feb. 25, 2017, 1:14 p.m.(12/26/1005 AR)

Things change so quickly. Already my purpose is growing in leaps and bounds, my tasks assigned exponentially increasing. And I love it. I can't wait for more!

Written By Octavia

Feb. 25, 2017, 1:05 p.m.(12/26/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Ford

Somewhat infuriating younger brother. I love him to death, no matter how much I sometimes want to box his ears.

Written By Reese

Feb. 25, 2017, 12:09 p.m.(12/26/1005 AR)

Lord Luis,

I read your last Journal. I apologize that my poem was vague.

It is with a heavy heart and great sorrow that I report the passing of Lady Lili Bisland and Lady Sarielle Bisland.

They perished together in the Gray Forest trying to find their parents.

Princess Reese

Written By Isolde

Feb. 25, 2017, 11:05 a.m.(12/26/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Mydas

Lord Mydas Nightgold is not one I've encountered, likely for various reasons, but perhaps, it is only in the shadow of tragedy that meaningful discourse could be had. He joined in a lively discussion on the nature of the Thirteenth with Lord Percephon and me, and brought unique and utterly impressive perspectives that forced me to think outside my comfort zone. He's not someone to be discounted easily, I think, and his conversation and debate was respectful, powerful, and a delight to engage in. It is my hope that we will have many more in the future. A refreshing day, overall, to find my mind enraptured by thought exercises and the reexamining of my beliefs. I feel all the stronger for it.

Written By Isolde

Feb. 25, 2017, 10:57 a.m.(12/26/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Cassius

Duke Cassius and I would have little reason to converse these days, I think, but, a random chance encounter in the Shrine of the Thirteenth proved that unlikely companions can find a measure of begrudging comfort in one another. Both of us, struck by deep tragedy, found connection in fanatic faith. We have -very- different perspectives on many topics, but can look upon the other's, understand why we might hold those views, and be cordial in our disagreement. His fanaticism presents itself in far different ways than mine - though, I suppose that is only natural when one is martial and the other socially minded - but we both agree on the need for the gods themselves. I look forward to more conversations with him, and sincerely hope that feeling is mutual.

Written By Isolde

Feb. 25, 2017, 10:53 a.m.(12/26/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Percephon

Lord Percephon Telmar and I first encountered each other in a whirlwind of activity in Illusions. We finally re-met, for the first meeting could barely be labeled as such, in the Shrine of the Thirteenth. The man has a keen philosophical mind, that asked challenging questions with an enthusiasm to hear honest responses, and rethink his position when presented with logical arguments that may have run counter to his original beliefs. Good gods, is the man a refreshing soul, and we desperately need more of his like in the city. I would no more turn down another conversation with him, than I would turn down a drink of water on a blistering day, or a fur blanket in the depths of winter.

Written By Luis

Feb. 25, 2017, 10:28 a.m.(12/26/1005 AR)

Perusing some of these journals--it's been a little too long.

It seems like one of the Bislands died. Hopefully I can find out who and send my friend my condolences.

Death seems to be happening more and more these days.

Written By Percephon

Feb. 25, 2017, 10:16 a.m.(12/26/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Isolde

I recently had a chance to meet with the Princess Isolde. While at first glance most might make assumptions as to her nature, I found the woman to be pleasingly open minded and forward with her answers. She was clear when she did not know the truth of some of the inquiries I made, was more than happy to help expand on some other ideas, and in all? Was a wonderful conversationalist and willing to engage in debate. It is discussions such as those with her, where I come away wiser for it -- even if I have more questions than answers still -- that I look forward to.

Written By Magden

Feb. 25, 2017, 9:41 a.m.(12/25/1005 AR)

Roland has decided shoving his face in people's groins is a friendly gesture.

There's a time and a place for such things.

Not, obviously, for dogs.

Or... you know... to each their own.

I'm not judging.

Written By Magden

Feb. 25, 2017, 9:22 a.m.(12/25/1005 AR)

Additional thoughts:

I don't wear shoes.

Other people wear shoes.

People who wear shoes are better at talking...

Are shoes magic?

Written By Magden

Feb. 25, 2017, 9:19 a.m.(12/25/1005 AR)

I seem to offend people.

It's terribly distressing.

I think I use too many words.

Written By Magden

Feb. 25, 2017, 9:12 a.m.(12/25/1005 AR)

I don't miss my long hair as much as I thought I might.

Which is good. What if it all suddenly fell out?

I'm glad to know I could continue in the face of such adversity.

Written By Magden

Feb. 25, 2017, 9:10 a.m.(12/25/1005 AR)

I miss Pie.

Vincere I didn't know as well, but I wanted to. Things happened so fast.

They always do.

Written By Magden

Feb. 25, 2017, 9:04 a.m.(12/25/1005 AR)

Sisters fight.

Sisters defend one another fiercely.

Sisters love each other, no matter their state of conflict or peace, and it's beautiful.

These have been my observations.

I'm not sure why they upset the Duchess so, but people do like a duel...

Written By Reese

Feb. 25, 2017, 7:13 a.m.(12/25/1005 AR)

A Farewell Lament For the Bisland Blooms

The grief of a sister and the echo of a whisper.

Two flowers blooming, petals heated red. One stayed in meadow and one was wed.

The Lily bloomed in art and a hope toward healing.The Rose bloomed duty that became true feeling.

The loss of a love brought her back to Bisland. The heart of devotion kept them hand in hand.

Two flowers tread with petals heated red. The grief of a sister and the echo of a whisper.

One sister, steel taut in her mourning. One Whisper, the Bisland meadow, adorning.

United, roots touching, yearning for their father. United, roots touching, yearning for their mother.

Hope in their hearts, the echo of a parent’s song. With the grace of a whisper, the widow’s grief is strong.

Two flowers wilting, petals heated red. Both dash into the forest, to their dread.

United, roots touching, yearning for their father. United, roots touching, yearning for their mother.

Two flowers withered, their petals just fumes. Brought by the bringers, the ashes of their blooms.

The love of a sister, the grace of a whisper

The echo, the agony, of the red petals. To the silence our mettle and metal

For the Grace of whisper and the love two sisters.

Written By Rymarr

Feb. 25, 2017, 3:51 a.m.(12/25/1005 AR)

A desire can become a necessity without any becoming the wiser. A purpose is often unappreciated by those who can not fully embrace or understand it. I hope, someday, to be able to explain it.

Written By Rymarr

Feb. 25, 2017, 3:51 a.m.(12/25/1005 AR)

A desire can become a necessity without any becoming the wiser. A purpose is often unappreciated by those who can not fully embrace or understand it. I hope, someday, to be able to explain it.

Written By Belladonna

Feb. 24, 2017, 10:42 p.m.(12/25/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Lydia

Well done. You serve your family well.

Written By Hana

Feb. 24, 2017, 10:31 p.m.(12/25/1005 AR)

I've never been the most devout person. I grew up in a merchant caravan, so we rarely had real shrines to go to. Sure, I've always made a little prayer to Jayus when I start a blade asking for the crafting to go well, and one to Gloria when I finish it asking that it be used well. But that doesn't seem like very much.

But now I think I need to learn a little more about them. Because I think there's something I *should* be doing for one of them, something I'm *supposed* to do... but I don't really know what that *is*.

Life is strange, sometimes.

Written By Rowan

Feb. 24, 2017, 8:40 p.m.(12/24/1005 AR)

A hound, a wolf, and a fox sat at a tall hedge row, wondering between them what laid on the other side. Drought had stricken their land, and they could hear water running beyond the hedge. They could smell it on the air.

Wolf declared, "If we only run and jump the hedge, we can be on the other side."

Fox warned, "We don't know what is on the side. We should find a way through first, or ask Hawk to fly and tell us."

"There is no time! We'll all thirst to death first," Wolf returned.

"Rain will come eventually," said Hound. "We need only wait."

The three bickered between themselves for days, until their tongues were parched, until there was little time left. Wolf, urged to action, assured, "I will jump it and you will see. We'll have all the water we can drink. What else could it be but a river?" And so Wolf took a running blind leap over the hedge.

Hound and Fox listened through the hedge, but all they could hear was a howling growing fainter and fainter.

"There is nothing good beyond this hedge," Hound barked at Fox. "I will return home and wait for the masters to bring water. I have served them well, and they will surely provide." But the masters were just as thirsty, and would give nothing to Hound when they thirsted themselves, and Hound perished as well.

Fox, left alone, called out for Hawk, but Hawk had long since left while Fox bickered with Hound and Wolf. Fox was not willing to make the jump, and not willing to lay down and die, so Fox walked the hedges tirelessly until it found a place it could wriggle through. With cuts and scratches, Fox finally emerged at the other side.

A gorge stretched out before Fox. A great waterfall fell over one edge to a darkness below. Beyond the gorge was verdant green forests, the river that fed the falls, and a single narrow rope bridge - dangerous and frightening - but sound for cautious paws to cross.

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