Written By Ignacio
June 10, 2018, 10:36 a.m.(12/17/1008 AR)
The trip home (Week 18)
I have spent a good deal of time heading back home recently and visiting my home among other things. I have been also working on ensuring the security issues behind a certain trade route through Torean territory is finalized as well. Everything should be in order when the time comes.
I have spent a good deal of time heading back home recently and visiting my home among other things. I have been also working on ensuring the security issues behind a certain trade route through Torean territory is finalized as well. Everything should be in order when the time comes.
Written By Venturo
June 10, 2018, 9:45 a.m.(12/17/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Chiara
It is rare, in all of my travels, to meet faces that I have known in different places. Certainly I've returned to certain cities and villages more than once, finding a soul or two here and there repeatedly. But in a different time and town all together? Well, such is the case with Mistress Chiara, who has recently come to give a helping hand, to of all people, my very own patron. Her luck can nearly (but not quite) compete with my own, though I am quite certain she generates far more mischief than I could ever hope to accomplish.
Written By Barik
June 10, 2018, 9:13 a.m.(12/17/1008 AR)
I come to you again, journal - not diary - for another tale to write down and snip off to my white archives when I return to Arx, if I do. If I don't, well, perhaps Petrichor's plans weren't as mighty and high as I pretended them to be.
I swaggered late in the night off into the woods, spurred on by fantasies of some unimaginative bravado and dilettante desire to probe the outskirts of the Lodge, while on my way to it. I had made the trek a hundred times, but this time - this hundred and one - a finagled wind threatened the very cyclopean stones upon which I treaded, rattling the hundred; the infinitesimal thousand of leaves scattered thorough the trees flanking the road into a throw-down of cacophonic madness. It was a truly daunting experience, hearing that prattle; that repeated- that constant swing and smack of wood and trunk, as if whips unleashed to subdue those who dared their road. It was just me this time, fastidious Barik - Barik upon having finished a particularly strong; an empowered bottle of wine - from spending time with an equally empowered woman, who had left me in hesitation and questioning of my manly capacity. I must've been of slow metabolism, for I still hadn't processed the poison this little trickster of a girl had placed in me- no, I forged on into the rattling abyss; into the sluddering abomination of swaying shadows, licking and kicking beneath the odd stirring light of the hung lanterns pillared and framing the road from absolute darkness.
Malaise soon ensued, and a hard- a powerful lesson that faked bravery, however noble, isn't the true steel. Perceptive as only one enraptured by fear, I swear on Gods yet to be factual that I saw a being not of this world. It huddled against a tree, back first, front first? I do not know- was it hugging it, or was it laying against it? I do not know. On its head was no true head, it was a skull; a deerskull I could only denote as such given the scintillating lights rising from the not-so-hollow sockets for once-eyes, for these were no eyes; these were something else. It was then I noticed that I hadn't made clue of this camouflaged being until I was enough arm's length from it to feel uncomfortable; to breach a certain contract of intrusion. And from this uncomfortableness; from this understanding of fear and hesitant behavior, it stirred - Gods, it stirred - swinging itself away from the tree; the not so big tree, as it was, for the being itself had branch-like limbs, with half the width of an oaken figure. It was at this point I realized this was no philistine being, no- this one was moved and stirred by something else. Holding onto a hundred prayers unknown to me twenty minutes back, I stood to see it thunder back into the woods from whence it came, and so it was, that I was left on knees sprawled out on the road, breathless. It must've been the size of a house- no, it was.
A man of the proverbial lesson, I learned the truth of the matter once I came to my senses; I learned two lessons: No matter the litany of information and evil once endeavors in; however one reads, learns, clues-in into what is dark and what is light, one is never prepared for that first-hand experience.
And never head towards the Lodge drunk as a clog sandal.
I swaggered late in the night off into the woods, spurred on by fantasies of some unimaginative bravado and dilettante desire to probe the outskirts of the Lodge, while on my way to it. I had made the trek a hundred times, but this time - this hundred and one - a finagled wind threatened the very cyclopean stones upon which I treaded, rattling the hundred; the infinitesimal thousand of leaves scattered thorough the trees flanking the road into a throw-down of cacophonic madness. It was a truly daunting experience, hearing that prattle; that repeated- that constant swing and smack of wood and trunk, as if whips unleashed to subdue those who dared their road. It was just me this time, fastidious Barik - Barik upon having finished a particularly strong; an empowered bottle of wine - from spending time with an equally empowered woman, who had left me in hesitation and questioning of my manly capacity. I must've been of slow metabolism, for I still hadn't processed the poison this little trickster of a girl had placed in me- no, I forged on into the rattling abyss; into the sluddering abomination of swaying shadows, licking and kicking beneath the odd stirring light of the hung lanterns pillared and framing the road from absolute darkness.
Malaise soon ensued, and a hard- a powerful lesson that faked bravery, however noble, isn't the true steel. Perceptive as only one enraptured by fear, I swear on Gods yet to be factual that I saw a being not of this world. It huddled against a tree, back first, front first? I do not know- was it hugging it, or was it laying against it? I do not know. On its head was no true head, it was a skull; a deerskull I could only denote as such given the scintillating lights rising from the not-so-hollow sockets for once-eyes, for these were no eyes; these were something else. It was then I noticed that I hadn't made clue of this camouflaged being until I was enough arm's length from it to feel uncomfortable; to breach a certain contract of intrusion. And from this uncomfortableness; from this understanding of fear and hesitant behavior, it stirred - Gods, it stirred - swinging itself away from the tree; the not so big tree, as it was, for the being itself had branch-like limbs, with half the width of an oaken figure. It was at this point I realized this was no philistine being, no- this one was moved and stirred by something else. Holding onto a hundred prayers unknown to me twenty minutes back, I stood to see it thunder back into the woods from whence it came, and so it was, that I was left on knees sprawled out on the road, breathless. It must've been the size of a house- no, it was.
A man of the proverbial lesson, I learned the truth of the matter once I came to my senses; I learned two lessons: No matter the litany of information and evil once endeavors in; however one reads, learns, clues-in into what is dark and what is light, one is never prepared for that first-hand experience.
And never head towards the Lodge drunk as a clog sandal.
Written By Quenia
June 10, 2018, 7:49 a.m.(12/17/1008 AR)
I have decided that I needed a bit more of a purpose, and as such I have joined the Mirrorguard of the Lyceum. Now, here's to hoping I don't get myself killed, as there was ample warning when I decided to join it could be quite deadly. Though, I will be primarily helping them with research, propaganda, and matters of diplomacy.
Written By Alexis
June 10, 2018, 7:43 a.m.(12/17/1008 AR)
I got some new furniture and am spending some time redecorating and in so doing am discovering clothing in the bottom of my old chest that I had forgotten I had.
Like a lycene sailor outfit. And a leather outfit that makes me feel like I'm suddenly my own evil twin.
And I'm reminded of a dear friend who was quite fond of sending me these clothes - as well as lovely dresses - knowing I was unlikely to wear them.
I will raise my glass in his honour tonight.
And then maybe I'll wear the sailor outfit.
Like a lycene sailor outfit. And a leather outfit that makes me feel like I'm suddenly my own evil twin.
And I'm reminded of a dear friend who was quite fond of sending me these clothes - as well as lovely dresses - knowing I was unlikely to wear them.
I will raise my glass in his honour tonight.
And then maybe I'll wear the sailor outfit.
Written By Quenia
June 10, 2018, 6:05 a.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Zebulon
I am so incredibly proud of my protege, Sir Zebulon Whitewake. He fought well in his bout yesterday with Master Sparte. There was a moment when I thought he nearly had Sparte, but then Sparte came in with a surprise move. Zeb got a bit beaten up, but his good nature prevailed.
I do hope he's alright, however. He ended up falling from the stands not long after the bout and being rushed off to the mercies. I plan to check on him later. Perhaps bring him some wine.
I do hope he's alright, however. He ended up falling from the stands not long after the bout and being rushed off to the mercies. I plan to check on him later. Perhaps bring him some wine.
Written By Niklas
June 10, 2018, 1:18 a.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
A number of unexpected messages today.
My social calendar will be packed.
And on top of that I just finished the first draft of my follow up to The Playwrights (coming soon to the Black Rose Theater) and have become patron to both Whisper Gianna and the Bard's College.
And now that I'm back from Stormward I've jumped into wedding planning with Sabella with both feet.
Also, my baby brother is in town somewhere? Where you at, Conjob?
My social calendar will be packed.
And on top of that I just finished the first draft of my follow up to The Playwrights (coming soon to the Black Rose Theater) and have become patron to both Whisper Gianna and the Bard's College.
And now that I'm back from Stormward I've jumped into wedding planning with Sabella with both feet.
Also, my baby brother is in town somewhere? Where you at, Conjob?
Written By Cambria
June 10, 2018, 12:39 a.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
I would like to extend a public thank you to all those who attended the little party the Marquis and I threw this evening. To Lady Signe, I promise to hold something more Damianos-centric in the future, that she might get the chance to pinch his cheeks. At the time of this writing, my son is just over three months old, so his cheeks are still quite chubby, but his tolerance for alcohol is questionable. Besides, though we used him as an excuse to host a celebration, it was really an opportunity for his father and I to socialize with other adults, something we have not done jointly in some time. That, the Marquis assures me, is soon to change.
I am only sad that my cousin Theron could not have been with us. As I expressed to his brother, it was necessary that he leave immediately. Hard decisions are the sort leaders often have to make, though I confess that I feel no regret. Duty means more to me than levity, as I am sure my kin well know. Theron, especially, understands this, and he did not hesitate when I gave him his orders.
Therefore, to those who may not have been given any word of farewell before the Sword of Ostria left the city, never fear. All is well. Unfortunately, it may be some time before he is able to return.
I am only sad that my cousin Theron could not have been with us. As I expressed to his brother, it was necessary that he leave immediately. Hard decisions are the sort leaders often have to make, though I confess that I feel no regret. Duty means more to me than levity, as I am sure my kin well know. Theron, especially, understands this, and he did not hesitate when I gave him his orders.
Therefore, to those who may not have been given any word of farewell before the Sword of Ostria left the city, never fear. All is well. Unfortunately, it may be some time before he is able to return.
Written By Tynan
June 10, 2018, 12:09 a.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Arcadia
I'll be curious to find out if you can be 'too hungover' as well.
Written By Barik
June 9, 2018, 11:32 p.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Aslaug
There's a certain, unspoken truth to dreams and nightmares. They're your nightmares; your dreams, they're made out of what you're made of. And thus if you're weak, then they'll consume you- they'll play you much like fear and greed plays a man of loose virtue. I flee my nightmares, they play me like a composer plays his flute, but lately, a dangling light has come to appear in them. No matter the pelagic horrors; the unspeakable, sluddering abominations product of mine fears and considerations alone, this creature with a prodigious hat appears in them. A silent reminder of reality, on her shoulder a long - absurdly long - pole with a shimmering lantern at its end. I've never seen her face, all things that could comprehensibly have a face - when they're not all manners of horrifyingly broken beasts - suffer from a lack of faces in these dreams of mine, it is no different for this one. But there she is, shaking silently and quietly her lamp, down a trail of numb stars faded in color. Everytime I've followed her I've come across a nothingness without explanation, but there's merit to nothingness. A peace outside the convoluted turmoil of a conflicted heart, a priceless commitment. That lantern I'd follow into the storm, with little hesitation, beginning with a wish of whisper to forever find it in that realm however catatonic my state.
Written By Jordan
June 9, 2018, 9:21 p.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Lumen
In the course of meeting people and making partnerships to make sure my project on behalf of House Ashford thrives, I've been making a lot of worthwhile friendships and connections. Lumen is industrious and resourceful, with great business sense; she's an asset to Whisper House as a whole. It's my hope our partnership and budding bonds of friendship only grow stronger over time.
Written By Luca
June 9, 2018, 8:10 p.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Talen
Hahahaha!
Haaa!
..heh.
Haaa!
..heh.
Written By Tabitha
June 9, 2018, 8:05 p.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Kenna
Muffin is so cute, and so is Sally, and that's one of the the cutest things I've ever read!
Written By Fredrik
June 9, 2018, 7:48 p.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
From:Desk of Lord Fredrik RedTyde
Subject: Spinster?
Under thirty is in danger of being a spinster?
Guess my family name really is doomed after all.
Subject: Spinster?
Under thirty is in danger of being a spinster?
Guess my family name really is doomed after all.
Written By Cassima
June 9, 2018, 7:36 p.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
I have aged, but apparently I will not be a spinster after all.
Written By Paige
June 9, 2018, 6:59 p.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Derovai
Its pretty tasty beer, I have to admit.
Written By Itzal
June 9, 2018, 6:52 p.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Derovai
I offer beer! Nice, tasty, inexpensive beer that doesn't try to kill you on its way down your throat.
Written By Derovai
June 9, 2018, 6:42 p.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Gwenna
Your Highness: What a pity it's proverbially Wednesday. Still, thank you for your advice, and should that Tuesday ever come, I will let you know. Keep in mind, I have lived five more years than you as of two days ago, and all the same, my experience in matters of the heart seems to be much less. Of course, I've been reliably informed I don't have one.
Master Culler: Alas, I'm afraid my talent for doggerel was a proximate cause of the matter's conclusion. Any talents I have in the direction of Jayus are apparently misaligned. That said, I'll take a drink if you'll buy me one, as I'm fairly sure I've bought you several by this point.
Master Culler: Alas, I'm afraid my talent for doggerel was a proximate cause of the matter's conclusion. Any talents I have in the direction of Jayus are apparently misaligned. That said, I'll take a drink if you'll buy me one, as I'm fairly sure I've bought you several by this point.
Written By Itzal
June 9, 2018, 6:37 p.m.(12/16/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Derovai
Consider writing songs!
Written By Gwenna
June 9, 2018, 5:34 p.m.(12/15/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Derovai
I rarely speak of my heartbreak from Farhaven. A tale many have, of silly young love that ends poorly. Time, I think, is the only thing that allows one to overcome such a thing. How much? It will be on a Tuesday. I don't know which Tuesday, in which month or which year, but some Tuesday, one will realize it no longer bothers them. Until then, one can only remind themselves that they only control themselves. When someone's care for them fades, then that speaks to that other person's feelings and, likely, nothing one particularly did or didn't do in most cases. As well, with a rather minimal twenty-two years of life under my belt, perhaps I've much yet to learn on the topic.
Tell your friend to shoot for Tuesday though, whatever Tuesday that may be.
Tell your friend to shoot for Tuesday though, whatever Tuesday that may be.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.