Written By Martino
Nov. 29, 2023, 4:05 a.m.(4/12/1021 AR)
Neither by Chance nor Fate. Several years ago the Shav'Arvani House Nonpurdo declared themselves our enemy after their grotesque attack on Duchess Calypso Malvici leading to her death. As Malvici we declared that there would be no home for these Shav'Arvani within our lands, within our territories and within our home. That we would secure the site where the Duchess was last seen and then turn our attention to our enemies.
At first, House Nonpurdo's home of Asti was defeated and the city was to become ours. Second their allies, two other Shav'Arvani Houses, were to be given the same treatment. We Malvici drew together our forces, our lieges working with us, and with that those who struck against us first and stole from us the Duchess Calypso have felt a reminder that to strike against a Malvici will see the harshest of retaliations.
Asti is now ours, their inhabitants bend the knee, and bloodshed from those in the city is avoided as they saw no wish to resist. The Malvici black and red flies above the keep, the Golden Hawk of Southport hangs proudly.
We now conclude our response, we now see our enemies defeated, neither through chance nor fate.
At first, House Nonpurdo's home of Asti was defeated and the city was to become ours. Second their allies, two other Shav'Arvani Houses, were to be given the same treatment. We Malvici drew together our forces, our lieges working with us, and with that those who struck against us first and stole from us the Duchess Calypso have felt a reminder that to strike against a Malvici will see the harshest of retaliations.
Asti is now ours, their inhabitants bend the knee, and bloodshed from those in the city is avoided as they saw no wish to resist. The Malvici black and red flies above the keep, the Golden Hawk of Southport hangs proudly.
We now conclude our response, we now see our enemies defeated, neither through chance nor fate.
Written By Raven
Nov. 28, 2023, 8:43 p.m.(4/11/1021 AR)
Do not be the next person who tells me I am being a martyr, or taking on to much, or thinks I might benefit from your views on time management. I promise you it will not be worth it. Bless all those who have offered to help or to promise to look into things and promised to raise a flag if there is trouble so I needn't keep track of everything but rather rely on the army of of the informed and involved so that I can trust that I do indeed, do not have to be everywhere and do everything. Some day it is you all who I will find some way to repay.
Written By Esme
Nov. 28, 2023, 8:01 p.m.(4/11/1021 AR)
Very well.
You have asked and I shall answer.
You have asked and I shall answer.
Written By Raja
Nov. 28, 2023, 3:06 p.m.(4/10/1021 AR)
Someone left a disturbing book in my shop. I don't know if this is some sort of gag, a warning, or a threat.
Written By Sen'azala
Nov. 28, 2023, 7:11 a.m.(4/10/1021 AR)
Two to remember, and one for hope. That's the price of raven feathers.
It would have to be, right? What kind of friend would I be, if I let it be anything else?
It would have to be, right? What kind of friend would I be, if I let it be anything else?
Written By Medeia
Nov. 27, 2023, 11:30 p.m.(4/9/1021 AR)
After a lovely opportunity getting to catch up with Duke Ryhalt, during which I noted that I had been meant to be a very-spare lady - one married off to a quiet life - but somehow ended up here, I slipped away to the Great Archive with a burning curiosity: How did I get here?
I spent some time looking over those earliest journals of my time in the city. Ones filled with memories that came flooding back as I read them. They were so vivid! And I wept for that girl, the one who listened as a lord shouted at the sky that she was more beautiful than the moon and stars, the one who had her not-yet husband imply he believed her capable of invading and conquering a barony, the one who cherished every bit of trust put in her as a midwife by new mothers.
I wept because I have always been here.
I spent some time looking over those earliest journals of my time in the city. Ones filled with memories that came flooding back as I read them. They were so vivid! And I wept for that girl, the one who listened as a lord shouted at the sky that she was more beautiful than the moon and stars, the one who had her not-yet husband imply he believed her capable of invading and conquering a barony, the one who cherished every bit of trust put in her as a midwife by new mothers.
I wept because I have always been here.
Written By Lianne
Nov. 27, 2023, 9:38 p.m.(4/9/1021 AR)
Sometimes, the answers are obvious. Not everything is a puzzle or a purpose. Some things are exactly as they seem, no overthinking required.
I ought to keep this in mind.
I ought to keep this in mind.
Written By Raymesin
Nov. 27, 2023, 4:55 p.m.(4/9/1021 AR)
A new age of Paladins is upon us. Stand forth and answer the call to arms, or do not. Either way, choose.
Written By Preston
Nov. 27, 2023, 3:02 p.m.(4/8/1021 AR)
It seems there is little time left before a large confrontation with our enemy. No time for all the grand dreams, for the great castles once again to protect us, for the age of Paladins to return fully, to have trained Paladins leading and guiding the Templars into those places they must go. But Gloria's command is not to protect when it is convenient, or protect when you are ready. Honour does not have such flexibility, duty does not offer such choice. So we go with what we have, and pray it is enough. If it is not, then we still go. Because that is what is right.
We bow our head before battle, and we say our prayer. Not for victory. Not for might. Not for numbers or for skill. Our prayer is for the strength of will, the endurance, to carry our honour through to the end. Head unbowed, oaths unbroken. That is how we will return. Home or to the shining lands.
We bow our head before battle, and we say our prayer. Not for victory. Not for might. Not for numbers or for skill. Our prayer is for the strength of will, the endurance, to carry our honour through to the end. Head unbowed, oaths unbroken. That is how we will return. Home or to the shining lands.
Written By Renata
Nov. 27, 2023, 2:33 p.m.(4/8/1021 AR)
I found myself once again ensnared in the clutches of a waking nightmare, yet the setting had shifted like sand beneath my feet. Instead of the foreboding streets of Luciva, I awoke upon the spring shores of Arx, the moonlit waves caressing the shoreline in rhythmic whispers. I stood barefoot in a delicate nightgown, the cool embrace of the sea sending shivers through my being.
The air was filled with a sense of surreal tranquility, a stark contrast to the chaos of the previous dream. As I gazed at the calm waters, I could almost hear the gentle lullaby sung by the ocean, a deceptive serenity masking the mysteries that lurked beneath the surface.
Yet, the nightmare persisted. The waters, though seemingly serene, carried an undercurrent of unease. With each step along the shore, the temperature of the sea intensified, the once-refreshing chill turning into an icy grip that sent shivers up my spine. It was as if the sea itself harbored a secret, a malevolence hidden beneath its seemingly placid surface.
In the distance, the outline of the Pravus fleet emerged from the shadows, their sails billowing in the moonlit night.
My nightgown billowed around me like a ghostly veil, and the cold waters whispered secrets that remained just beyond the grasp of understanding.
The sand beneath my feet felt like quicksand, each step a struggle...
To wake up falling upon the sands of Arx...
I need answers to why these hooded men find me in my dreams
The air was filled with a sense of surreal tranquility, a stark contrast to the chaos of the previous dream. As I gazed at the calm waters, I could almost hear the gentle lullaby sung by the ocean, a deceptive serenity masking the mysteries that lurked beneath the surface.
Yet, the nightmare persisted. The waters, though seemingly serene, carried an undercurrent of unease. With each step along the shore, the temperature of the sea intensified, the once-refreshing chill turning into an icy grip that sent shivers up my spine. It was as if the sea itself harbored a secret, a malevolence hidden beneath its seemingly placid surface.
In the distance, the outline of the Pravus fleet emerged from the shadows, their sails billowing in the moonlit night.
My nightgown billowed around me like a ghostly veil, and the cold waters whispered secrets that remained just beyond the grasp of understanding.
The sand beneath my feet felt like quicksand, each step a struggle...
To wake up falling upon the sands of Arx...
I need answers to why these hooded men find me in my dreams
Written By Rosalind
Nov. 27, 2023, 9:16 a.m.(4/8/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Raymesin
Did I read you're an explorer? Hi! Hello! Welcome!
Written By Jan
Nov. 26, 2023, 10:06 p.m.(4/7/1021 AR)
I was damn proud of who I was. What I accomplished. For most of my life anyway. I don't know when that stopped being true and I am not really sure what to do about it now.
Written By Jan
Nov. 26, 2023, 10:05 p.m.(4/7/1021 AR)
I miss my family but I don't miss the isles. EXCEPT when someone wrongs me or or a friend. At least there I know exactly how to deal with it.
Written By Avita
Nov. 26, 2023, 9:55 p.m.(4/7/1021 AR)
Dearest Diary,
I have thought of the storm.
I have considered the flame.
But, what of the shadows?
There are so many that fear them, for reasons beyond me.
They come to fear even their own, just as surely as their (oft unflattering) reflection.
But, the shadows are not nefarious things -- they are a comfort in the scorching, parching noon of summer, where we find our gentle rest and easy breezes.
There are flowers that bloom only within their soothing embrace, stretching long and as deep as the storm-tossed sea.
Me?
I rather like the dark.
Like a bleak horizon, it is where my radiance can best be seen.
I have thought of the storm.
I have considered the flame.
But, what of the shadows?
There are so many that fear them, for reasons beyond me.
They come to fear even their own, just as surely as their (oft unflattering) reflection.
But, the shadows are not nefarious things -- they are a comfort in the scorching, parching noon of summer, where we find our gentle rest and easy breezes.
There are flowers that bloom only within their soothing embrace, stretching long and as deep as the storm-tossed sea.
Me?
I rather like the dark.
Like a bleak horizon, it is where my radiance can best be seen.
Written By Avita
Nov. 26, 2023, 9:48 p.m.(4/7/1021 AR)
Dear Diary,
As I look out over the bay, I find my mind wandering to the storm.
Perhaps, more specifically, I think of how we choose to describe it, and its influence:
It rages.
We never stop to ask, "Is it justified?"
It rages, but we care not why -- we view it only as a destructive thing, much the same as an inferno, which also ... rages.
But, what is rage if not simply another face of passion?
What if the storm mourns, what if it lashes out the way that it does because though we hear its furious, thundrous call ... we do not -listen-?
What if we have, without our knowledge, stolen something precious from it ... and without our answer, no matter how many times it would ask that we return what was rightfully theirs, it could only grow louder?
As I look out over the bay, I find my mind wandering to the storm.
Perhaps, more specifically, I think of how we choose to describe it, and its influence:
It rages.
We never stop to ask, "Is it justified?"
It rages, but we care not why -- we view it only as a destructive thing, much the same as an inferno, which also ... rages.
But, what is rage if not simply another face of passion?
What if the storm mourns, what if it lashes out the way that it does because though we hear its furious, thundrous call ... we do not -listen-?
What if we have, without our knowledge, stolen something precious from it ... and without our answer, no matter how many times it would ask that we return what was rightfully theirs, it could only grow louder?
Written By Avita
Nov. 26, 2023, 9:40 p.m.(4/7/1021 AR)
Dear Diary,
Have you ever sat and watched a candle burn until -- with a gentle hiss, and a twist of smoke -- it is gone?
Melted away, spent, with not a moment spent mourning its tragic passing?
The flame dances for our entertainment, seductive as flame is to our minds.
We are but moths, lured closer with every lash and flicker ... even the words we use to describe it as it devours all are indicative of our wanting.
It isn't the limbs of flame, but tongues...
I wonder, darling diary ... what does it say to you?
Have you ever sat and watched a candle burn until -- with a gentle hiss, and a twist of smoke -- it is gone?
Melted away, spent, with not a moment spent mourning its tragic passing?
The flame dances for our entertainment, seductive as flame is to our minds.
We are but moths, lured closer with every lash and flicker ... even the words we use to describe it as it devours all are indicative of our wanting.
It isn't the limbs of flame, but tongues...
I wonder, darling diary ... what does it say to you?
Written By Valencia
Nov. 26, 2023, 8:39 p.m.(4/7/1021 AR)
It is always loving to see familiar faces again. They fill me with warmth and hope and remind me of who I am and should be. I look forward to seeing more.
~~~~~~~~~~~<~<~<@
~~~~~~~~~~~<~<~<@
Written By Jaenelle
Nov. 26, 2023, 8:11 p.m.(4/7/1021 AR)
I have decided that the next fealty project will be to create something that will leave a lasting impression. There have bee. So many different ideas from all the domains, and I can not wait to assist with each of them.
Written By Thea
Nov. 26, 2023, 7:19 p.m.(4/7/1021 AR)
Spring is here. Which next to summer, is my favorite. I enjoy the new growth. The feel of new. The gardens at Wyvernheart, mine included, are beginning to bloom, and I'm excited to work with them this year. My children should be back soon, and I'll be able to teach them the meanings and use of everything there.
Written By Thea
Nov. 26, 2023, 7:06 p.m.(4/7/1021 AR)
So much to prepare for, so little time it seems. But it'll be nice to use my office properly again. I should warn the guards things are fine at whatever exploders.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.