Written By Tyrus
Feb. 17, 2020, 9:13 p.m.(10.346827463624338/13.422337962962963/1012.7789022886353 AR)
Relationship Note on Mason
I do not know what moved me to read this particular journal. Pure chance, I suppose. A whim. Yet I read.
I do not hate all Eurusi. I know that many of the slaves who died on the island were Eurusi themselves. I felt for them no lesser companionship, no lesser loyalty, than for the Abandoned or the very few Arvani that were present.
Yet I hated, and very much hate still, those who wield the whip. The masters. Those who used the suffering of men and women, of the old and the young, to fulfill whatever desire they might have had. Using them as tools. As things.
It would be one of these ironies that my captors were not tied to the Dune Emperor. They were exiles, displaced from their home city of Glor'Ruus by the rise of this Emperor. To those who think dispatching the Dune Emperor and his allies will be enough to end the evil of Eurus, I fear you are gravely mistaken. The masters on the island were no less cruel, no less uncaring about the lives of the slaves they so casually crushed based on their own whims, their own desires.
Yet... I would lie if I claimed I could not understand the journal written by Prince Mason Grayson. Could not relate on some level to what he described.
I was one of those who did not like thralldom. One of those whose discomfort towards this 'institution' of the Mourning Isles was constant. Yet I was raised in the household of the then High Lord Donrai Thrax. Such things were simply part of life. And even as I would do small things, little things, to try and offer kindness where my uncle showed only indifference or cruelty, I did not question the place of thralldom in my life. I did not question this institution, so tied to Thrax.
Much like I expect many of the Eurusi do not question the institution of slavery within the Dune Kingdoms.
It took my becoming a slave to open my eyes.
So. I can relate to what was written by one from an Eurusi royal family. His Highness offered to speak of the horrors he saw in his previous homeland, the horrors of how slaves were treated. Should one need a visual aid, I still bear the scars on my back and shoulders.
I would be lying if I said part of me didn't wish to see the Dune Kingdoms burn, see them razed till even the very memory of their existence was but dust. But the journal of Prince Mason Grayson has at least showed me that there is reason to at least try to see the highborn of Eurus with something else than absolute hate.
It's a step, I suppose.
I do not hate all Eurusi. I know that many of the slaves who died on the island were Eurusi themselves. I felt for them no lesser companionship, no lesser loyalty, than for the Abandoned or the very few Arvani that were present.
Yet I hated, and very much hate still, those who wield the whip. The masters. Those who used the suffering of men and women, of the old and the young, to fulfill whatever desire they might have had. Using them as tools. As things.
It would be one of these ironies that my captors were not tied to the Dune Emperor. They were exiles, displaced from their home city of Glor'Ruus by the rise of this Emperor. To those who think dispatching the Dune Emperor and his allies will be enough to end the evil of Eurus, I fear you are gravely mistaken. The masters on the island were no less cruel, no less uncaring about the lives of the slaves they so casually crushed based on their own whims, their own desires.
Yet... I would lie if I claimed I could not understand the journal written by Prince Mason Grayson. Could not relate on some level to what he described.
I was one of those who did not like thralldom. One of those whose discomfort towards this 'institution' of the Mourning Isles was constant. Yet I was raised in the household of the then High Lord Donrai Thrax. Such things were simply part of life. And even as I would do small things, little things, to try and offer kindness where my uncle showed only indifference or cruelty, I did not question the place of thralldom in my life. I did not question this institution, so tied to Thrax.
Much like I expect many of the Eurusi do not question the institution of slavery within the Dune Kingdoms.
It took my becoming a slave to open my eyes.
So. I can relate to what was written by one from an Eurusi royal family. His Highness offered to speak of the horrors he saw in his previous homeland, the horrors of how slaves were treated. Should one need a visual aid, I still bear the scars on my back and shoulders.
I would be lying if I said part of me didn't wish to see the Dune Kingdoms burn, see them razed till even the very memory of their existence was but dust. But the journal of Prince Mason Grayson has at least showed me that there is reason to at least try to see the highborn of Eurus with something else than absolute hate.
It's a step, I suppose.
Written By Krarstin
Feb. 17, 2020, 8:56 p.m.(10.345975942460317/13.37465277777778/1012.7788313285383 AR)
The Fleet of the Lash is similar to other enemies we have faced. They go by many names, but in the end they are the same as they reign with barbed chains of cruelty and dishonor. To fight them is right, to shatter their bonds wherever we find them. To have our cause be measured by the Wave and Sword with the unjust sent to the dark depths below.
A Tidelord does not fight for the sake of fighting or unjust causes, for the day will come when they are held to account for every action and decision. That when they enter bloody into the Shining Lands with weapon still in hand, that their souls will be measured and found with honor and they will be welcomed with rapturous applause louder than the greatest storm and sit by the side of the gods in Elysia, forever bathed in glory as we feast in the great halls of heroes. And should the need arise, that they return as furies to hunt wickedness in all forms.
For the enemies of the Tidelord, may they find themselves awakening after a quick death mercifully given and step into the Shining Lands with shock. That their souls are measured and found lacking. May they be sent plunging to the darkest regions of the Abyss to never return with their cries of forgiveness heard by none and drowned by their maddened screams of torment they inflicted upon others a thousandfold.
A Tidelord does not fight for the sake of fighting or unjust causes, for the day will come when they are held to account for every action and decision. That when they enter bloody into the Shining Lands with weapon still in hand, that their souls will be measured and found with honor and they will be welcomed with rapturous applause louder than the greatest storm and sit by the side of the gods in Elysia, forever bathed in glory as we feast in the great halls of heroes. And should the need arise, that they return as furies to hunt wickedness in all forms.
For the enemies of the Tidelord, may they find themselves awakening after a quick death mercifully given and step into the Shining Lands with shock. That their souls are measured and found lacking. May they be sent plunging to the darkest regions of the Abyss to never return with their cries of forgiveness heard by none and drowned by their maddened screams of torment they inflicted upon others a thousandfold.
Written By Tyrus
Feb. 17, 2020, 8:43 p.m.(10.345320353835978/13.337939814814813/1012.778776696153 AR)
I did not react well when I heard Prism speak at the Assembly of Peers.
I've learnt more about who and what she is since that day, and have had time to process through what was triggered by the choice she offered us all. I understand the importance of our intent as we go face this threat, as a crusade is called and we go battle the invading Eurusi. Why we do it, how we do it, matters just as much as the action itself. Intent matters and echoes within our Dream. I know this, I knew this... yet in that moment it was not what I could think of.
Instead all I saw were the faces of those I had grown to love over time. Not just Aelia and Damia, the two closest to me, but every friend made while on that accursed island. Every man and woman with whom I shared these thirteen years of slavery under the whips of the Eurusi masters. The faces of dead men and women, who suffered and died without ever being saved. Good people whose very hope would slowly fade from their eyes, till they were human no longer, just flesh and bone accomplishing a task till they were broken like so many tools.
I remembered the nights I would stay awake and I would hear their prayers. I was one of the very, very few Arvani on the island. The rest were all Abandoned or Eurusi. Yet their words, their precious hopes, their plea, were all the same.
Save us.
Deliver us.
My own hope withered away, my love for Damia one of the last remnants of my humanity, till Aelia entered our lives and filled me anew with the will to fight, to break free. To try and die if need be, if only to give her, to give them all, a chance for the life I had known before. A human life, free.
I could only give that to a few, those who made it to the ship and survived the raging sea to make it to the Compact. Those who I tried my best to give good lives in a Compact they had never known.
The rest? Damia, an Abandoned I had sworn to protect as a husband protects his wife? Aelia, my dearest daughter, for whom I would have done anything to offer a better future, a better life than the one of a slave? They died. Aelia was three. She died having only ever been a slave.
But now something changed? Now the Seraph of Freedom has deemed fitting and good to tell the people of the Compact to free the slaves of Eurus? Now is the time?
/Now/, after they're all dead, the Seraph descends from the heavens to tell us it's time?
No, I did not react well to her words in the Assembly. I've since learnt more, and will no doubt learn more as I speak to those closer to the Faith than I am. Yet I would lie if I said that the anger does not linger.
I am reminded of a discussion I had with my cousin Leona. She told me humanity could not have it both ways. We cannot demand freedom and the power to make our own decision, and then expect the Gods to swoop in every time something goes wrong, to save us every time. I agree. I understand.
Yet when the Gods do choose to act, when they make the choice to get involved this time, because this time it matters? I see the faces of the men and women I knew, of the daughter and wife I loved. And wonder what in their suffering was deemed unworthy of action.
I've learnt more about who and what she is since that day, and have had time to process through what was triggered by the choice she offered us all. I understand the importance of our intent as we go face this threat, as a crusade is called and we go battle the invading Eurusi. Why we do it, how we do it, matters just as much as the action itself. Intent matters and echoes within our Dream. I know this, I knew this... yet in that moment it was not what I could think of.
Instead all I saw were the faces of those I had grown to love over time. Not just Aelia and Damia, the two closest to me, but every friend made while on that accursed island. Every man and woman with whom I shared these thirteen years of slavery under the whips of the Eurusi masters. The faces of dead men and women, who suffered and died without ever being saved. Good people whose very hope would slowly fade from their eyes, till they were human no longer, just flesh and bone accomplishing a task till they were broken like so many tools.
I remembered the nights I would stay awake and I would hear their prayers. I was one of the very, very few Arvani on the island. The rest were all Abandoned or Eurusi. Yet their words, their precious hopes, their plea, were all the same.
Save us.
Deliver us.
My own hope withered away, my love for Damia one of the last remnants of my humanity, till Aelia entered our lives and filled me anew with the will to fight, to break free. To try and die if need be, if only to give her, to give them all, a chance for the life I had known before. A human life, free.
I could only give that to a few, those who made it to the ship and survived the raging sea to make it to the Compact. Those who I tried my best to give good lives in a Compact they had never known.
The rest? Damia, an Abandoned I had sworn to protect as a husband protects his wife? Aelia, my dearest daughter, for whom I would have done anything to offer a better future, a better life than the one of a slave? They died. Aelia was three. She died having only ever been a slave.
But now something changed? Now the Seraph of Freedom has deemed fitting and good to tell the people of the Compact to free the slaves of Eurus? Now is the time?
/Now/, after they're all dead, the Seraph descends from the heavens to tell us it's time?
No, I did not react well to her words in the Assembly. I've since learnt more, and will no doubt learn more as I speak to those closer to the Faith than I am. Yet I would lie if I said that the anger does not linger.
I am reminded of a discussion I had with my cousin Leona. She told me humanity could not have it both ways. We cannot demand freedom and the power to make our own decision, and then expect the Gods to swoop in every time something goes wrong, to save us every time. I agree. I understand.
Yet when the Gods do choose to act, when they make the choice to get involved this time, because this time it matters? I see the faces of the men and women I knew, of the daughter and wife I loved. And wonder what in their suffering was deemed unworthy of action.
Written By Tanith
Feb. 17, 2020, 8:39 p.m.(10.345141369047619/13.327916666666667/1012.7787617807539 AR)
Fopdoodle.
Written By Sydney
Feb. 17, 2020, 1:33 p.m.(10.324049272486773/12.14675925925926/1012.7770041060405 AR)
Relationship Note on Strozza
There is no shame in finding your measure. Gods know that I have found my own, quite repeatedly over the course of the years.
Let it serve to spur your improvement, not give you a stick to beat yourself with.
...and you have my thanks, for understanding my intent.
Let it serve to spur your improvement, not give you a stick to beat yourself with.
...and you have my thanks, for understanding my intent.
Written By Delilah
Feb. 17, 2020, 1:25 p.m.(10.323613177910053/12.122337962962963/1012.7769677648258 AR)
What a week it has been. No doubt the historians and scholars in the future will look upon the abundant commentary regarding a momentous Assembly of Peers, curious and wondering at our place in it. What gave us teh courage or energy to transform the Compact in the shape of such apparent threats or dangers, and was it a response or the culminating event?
Another great house answers to the Crown, through the tireless efforts of its members. The thundering of Skald's banners through the Saffron Isles in turn wrests focus from our eastern neighbours, and the developments of a raft of refugees swells, preparing to come to our shores. Let us not forget how many of them shall not make it, sacrificing themselves to the waves and the sands in hopes o fattaining a different life for themselves. Their blood seeps into the soil, carried under the waves, but the yearning in their spirits remains a common thread bound into a greater rope. It stretches over the ocean, linking those who come to the Compact to change their fortunes with those who did not make it.
Provocative actions bring provocative responses, of course. None of these actions happen in their own isolated cellar, cut off from the testimony of the rains and gossip of the winds. Change is not a gentle matter of transition in all spaces, but can be the violent cracking of a shell and the back-breaking labour to push away the detritus of past years in search of the sun. Growth spurs pain in the bones as a child reaches their full height. Nothing comes without some measure of labour, risk, and hardship. Else what value would it have?
Nonetheless, here we are, united beneath the Crown, facing forward into the headwinds. Where this adventure takes us, can any be sure?
Another great house answers to the Crown, through the tireless efforts of its members. The thundering of Skald's banners through the Saffron Isles in turn wrests focus from our eastern neighbours, and the developments of a raft of refugees swells, preparing to come to our shores. Let us not forget how many of them shall not make it, sacrificing themselves to the waves and the sands in hopes o fattaining a different life for themselves. Their blood seeps into the soil, carried under the waves, but the yearning in their spirits remains a common thread bound into a greater rope. It stretches over the ocean, linking those who come to the Compact to change their fortunes with those who did not make it.
Provocative actions bring provocative responses, of course. None of these actions happen in their own isolated cellar, cut off from the testimony of the rains and gossip of the winds. Change is not a gentle matter of transition in all spaces, but can be the violent cracking of a shell and the back-breaking labour to push away the detritus of past years in search of the sun. Growth spurs pain in the bones as a child reaches their full height. Nothing comes without some measure of labour, risk, and hardship. Else what value would it have?
Nonetheless, here we are, united beneath the Crown, facing forward into the headwinds. Where this adventure takes us, can any be sure?
Written By Jules
Feb. 17, 2020, 1:21 p.m.(10.323411458333334/12.111041666666669/1012.7769509548611 AR)
I sometimes get distracted on market days. I accidentally sold economic writs instead of buying them. Thankfully Lady Mabelle was kind enough to help me out on the deal so I didn't have to cancel it. It's always good to have a friend who can help you out in a pickle.
Written By Dio
Feb. 17, 2020, 12:06 p.m.(10.319699487433862/11.903171296296296/1012.7766416239529 AR)
There are a great many whales in Eurus and the Saffron Chain that have grown fat and idle, feasting on vast multitudes in their domains. Now the Kraken of Pravus and Seraceni Sharks come to feast on the whales, and offer protection and justice to those who before knew only how to glut their masters.
I understand the so called Seraph of Skald has asked us to come as liberators, not conquerors. Aye, fair enough. No true pirate would hold free souls in bondage, and yet some structure must replace the old. And what better way to fund the fair, just rule of those who had once suffered under the lash of the Prophet's minions, than by liberating the wealth of Saffron Chain and Eurus?
I understand the so called Seraph of Skald has asked us to come as liberators, not conquerors. Aye, fair enough. No true pirate would hold free souls in bondage, and yet some structure must replace the old. And what better way to fund the fair, just rule of those who had once suffered under the lash of the Prophet's minions, than by liberating the wealth of Saffron Chain and Eurus?
Written By Arik
Feb. 17, 2020, 11:19 a.m.(10.317356150793652/11.771944444444445/1012.7764463458994 AR)
On the matter of the recent Assembly of Peers and the heresy of Eurus there can be only one comment. Have you all forgotten the annihilation of several Houses? The Thornweavers are a clear and present danger not only to the Peerage but the people and even the Faith should the heretical ideals -they- aspire to come to pass. Last any word of the Thornweavers was had came from the death of one of the greatest military leaders in Avrum in the passing of Duke Arn Telmar. That was but a piece of the whole that threatens the Oathlands and Northlands at this time.
Have we further forgotten that in the Red mountains an Undying Empire banner flies above shavs that have knelt to a foreign power? The Undying Empire is practicing the rite of writs upon people of these shores, within borders we claim as ours. Is it not our duty to see to the ending of a practice universally agreed to be slavery by our faith? Do we sail to Eurus across a sea we cannot cross with caravels yet to be built or do we sort the condition of our own home? Eurus has been and will be for some time, though they have come to our shores let us not rush to battle a heresy because it is easy to commit to a just ideal and ignore the real problems we have politely left unsaid.
The Undying Empire unlawfully occupies Compact lands. This is invasion. The Thornweavers have annihilated multiple noble houses and left those lands devestated. This is war. To steal the wisdom of Grandmaster Preston, just because we do not know how we will solve these problems does not mean the steps should not be taken.
Have we further forgotten that in the Red mountains an Undying Empire banner flies above shavs that have knelt to a foreign power? The Undying Empire is practicing the rite of writs upon people of these shores, within borders we claim as ours. Is it not our duty to see to the ending of a practice universally agreed to be slavery by our faith? Do we sail to Eurus across a sea we cannot cross with caravels yet to be built or do we sort the condition of our own home? Eurus has been and will be for some time, though they have come to our shores let us not rush to battle a heresy because it is easy to commit to a just ideal and ignore the real problems we have politely left unsaid.
The Undying Empire unlawfully occupies Compact lands. This is invasion. The Thornweavers have annihilated multiple noble houses and left those lands devestated. This is war. To steal the wisdom of Grandmaster Preston, just because we do not know how we will solve these problems does not mean the steps should not be taken.
Written By Roran
Feb. 17, 2020, 10:55 a.m.(10.316191302910052/11.706712962962964/1012.7763492752425 AR)
Relationship Note on Brigida
I enjoyed it so much it is currently being framed for the wall of my modest house.
But you haven’t lived till you have been cracked across the shins by the blessed.
But you haven’t lived till you have been cracked across the shins by the blessed.
Written By Mason
Feb. 17, 2020, 10:02 a.m.(10.313576802248678/11.560300925925926/1012.7761314001874 AR)
I rarely write in the journals of the Archive. I am Eurusi. My opinions have rarely been popular.
Recent events compel me to put my thoughts down for history, not out of hubris, but out of desire to offer a perspective. I was born and raised across the sea in the Dune Kingdom of Ahj'on. I carry the name of a royal family, and though my personal claim to any authority was as distant as my homeland is now, I still lived with great luxury and entitlement until the very moment I left the sands.
What the people of Arvum forever struggle to understand is that slavery is part of the Eurusi culture. It is built into every aspect of lives there. I have long compared Thralldom to the slavery of Eurus, but also spoken in critical contrast of it. Thralldom forever offered *hope* to the enthralled. There was a chance for freedom, however impossible it might have seemed. In Eurus, there is no hope for a slave.
The castes in Ahj'on are inflexible. Slaves are treated as nothing more than a tool, and if your tool frustrates you or isn't working how you desire, you were free to do with it as you like. Would you think twice about setting aside a hair brush that has broken bristles? Would you do little more than lift an eyebrow at someone that throws aside a cracked pot in frustration when it has leaked wine upon their table? No one would arrest you for throwing out a tool here. No one would arrest you for murdering a slave you own if they displeased you there.
I would never hold my people unaccountable, nor do I hold myself any less so. But when a people are raised in a way of thinking, generation after generation, you have to give them the *choice* to make change. You cannot cut down a society simply for doing what has always been done. My feet were bathed by the hands of a slave when I lived there. My food was cooked by slaves. I was dressed by slaves. It wasn't the presence of slaves that led to my leaving my homeland. I was born into it and never thought to see differently. It was the *way* they were treated that opened my eyes.
If any are questioning if this is a battle that need be fought, I can speak at length to the cruelties delivered upon the slaves of Eurus. If one desires to know Skal'daja better, I have never been there, but I know many stories of the city where people are bought and sold as commodities in cages beside livestock. If you question why Prism asks for temperance instead of slaughter, ask if you would slaughter me. I am of a Eurusi royal family, yet here I am serving Arvum's cause.
I trust Prism, completely. If you do not have the privilege of knowing her personally but you are a friend of mine, trust that she speaks truthfully without deception.
There is little that terrifies me more than returning to Eurus, but there is no cause I believe more noble than seeking to free those forever chained in the Dune Kingdoms.
Recent events compel me to put my thoughts down for history, not out of hubris, but out of desire to offer a perspective. I was born and raised across the sea in the Dune Kingdom of Ahj'on. I carry the name of a royal family, and though my personal claim to any authority was as distant as my homeland is now, I still lived with great luxury and entitlement until the very moment I left the sands.
What the people of Arvum forever struggle to understand is that slavery is part of the Eurusi culture. It is built into every aspect of lives there. I have long compared Thralldom to the slavery of Eurus, but also spoken in critical contrast of it. Thralldom forever offered *hope* to the enthralled. There was a chance for freedom, however impossible it might have seemed. In Eurus, there is no hope for a slave.
The castes in Ahj'on are inflexible. Slaves are treated as nothing more than a tool, and if your tool frustrates you or isn't working how you desire, you were free to do with it as you like. Would you think twice about setting aside a hair brush that has broken bristles? Would you do little more than lift an eyebrow at someone that throws aside a cracked pot in frustration when it has leaked wine upon their table? No one would arrest you for throwing out a tool here. No one would arrest you for murdering a slave you own if they displeased you there.
I would never hold my people unaccountable, nor do I hold myself any less so. But when a people are raised in a way of thinking, generation after generation, you have to give them the *choice* to make change. You cannot cut down a society simply for doing what has always been done. My feet were bathed by the hands of a slave when I lived there. My food was cooked by slaves. I was dressed by slaves. It wasn't the presence of slaves that led to my leaving my homeland. I was born into it and never thought to see differently. It was the *way* they were treated that opened my eyes.
If any are questioning if this is a battle that need be fought, I can speak at length to the cruelties delivered upon the slaves of Eurus. If one desires to know Skal'daja better, I have never been there, but I know many stories of the city where people are bought and sold as commodities in cages beside livestock. If you question why Prism asks for temperance instead of slaughter, ask if you would slaughter me. I am of a Eurusi royal family, yet here I am serving Arvum's cause.
I trust Prism, completely. If you do not have the privilege of knowing her personally but you are a friend of mine, trust that she speaks truthfully without deception.
There is little that terrifies me more than returning to Eurus, but there is no cause I believe more noble than seeking to free those forever chained in the Dune Kingdoms.
Written By Preston
Feb. 17, 2020, 4:40 a.m.(10.297595486111112/10.66534722222222/1012.7747996238426 AR)
Sometimes one must place one foot in front of the other along the path the commands of the Gods lay out, not knowing how this will lead to the final destination. An act of faith is born of the absence of total certainty - the joy and beauty of faith is that you do not know all the details of what will happen, but knowing it to be right you do it anyway. You step from the cliff in the belief the waves are below to catch you.
I can understand the reluctance of some nobles in this - it is not how they act. They have demands on them, to tend to the land, to look after its people in a pragmatic and physical fashion. It is essential in its own way for our Compact to function, and is born from practical life under the commands of the Gods. To tend to the domain Petrichor has granted. To dispense justice as the Sentinel commands. To protect their people, as Gloria wills. It is a hard thing to abandon certainty. I do not think all will listen or take that leap. I do not blame them for that. And yet, if we do not so the armies of slaves will come and come and either we will be overwhelmed in the end, or the blood of so many who had no choice will soak our hands that the Gods will weep.
I don't know how it will happen, but we will liberate the Isles of the Eurusi presence. I do not know how it will happen, but in the end we will make it to Eurus. But what I ask is that you take just one step along that path, that we prepare our forces and see what the Eurusi will do. And then we will take one more step. And one more. And from these steps, a journey is born.
I can understand the reluctance of some nobles in this - it is not how they act. They have demands on them, to tend to the land, to look after its people in a pragmatic and physical fashion. It is essential in its own way for our Compact to function, and is born from practical life under the commands of the Gods. To tend to the domain Petrichor has granted. To dispense justice as the Sentinel commands. To protect their people, as Gloria wills. It is a hard thing to abandon certainty. I do not think all will listen or take that leap. I do not blame them for that. And yet, if we do not so the armies of slaves will come and come and either we will be overwhelmed in the end, or the blood of so many who had no choice will soak our hands that the Gods will weep.
I don't know how it will happen, but we will liberate the Isles of the Eurusi presence. I do not know how it will happen, but in the end we will make it to Eurus. But what I ask is that you take just one step along that path, that we prepare our forces and see what the Eurusi will do. And then we will take one more step. And one more. And from these steps, a journey is born.
Written By Mabelle
Feb. 17, 2020, 1:54 a.m.(10.289331597222223/10.202569444444446/1012.7741109664352 AR)
Relationship Note on Calista
Oh cousin, I am honoured by the comparison, for if I shine for a mile away, then you shine for a hundred.
I do beg to differ though. You should Mabelle full time. But I will take what I can get.
I do beg to differ though. You should Mabelle full time. But I will take what I can get.
Written By Sparte
Feb. 16, 2020, 10:55 p.m.(10.280517939814814/9.70900462962963/1012.7733764949845 AR)
I have found something best unmentioned in my shoe (Thanks Tom), and with it the realization I own two sets of boots but one set of socks. One of which I will not be using for some time. I will now have to remedy that.
Written By Strozza
Feb. 16, 2020, 10:25 p.m.(10.279036458333334/9.626041666666667/1012.7732530381944 AR)
Gods, I am well and truly so out of practice. How pathetic. How embarrassing for the family.
Written By Theophania
Feb. 16, 2020, 10:11 p.m.(10.27833664021164/9.586851851851852/1012.7731947200176 AR)
I took leave of my senses and spent hundreds of thousands of silver on dresses this week. I'm a little nervous about embarrassing myself in them, though... but it's important to House Blanchard's reputation that its Minister of Coin looks nice, isn't it?
Written By Theophania
Feb. 16, 2020, 10:10 p.m.(10.27828621031746/9.584027777777777/1012.7731905175265 AR)
Everyone in this city is so profoundly attractive. It's honestly making things kind of difficult...
Written By Katryn
Feb. 16, 2020, 9:27 p.m.(10.276150793650794/9.464444444444444/1012.7730125661376 AR)
Relationship Note on Jourdain
I hope Mistress Verity and yourself come to a pleasant conclusion to the occurance that seems to pain you. She cares deeply, I believe! For you, and our house.
If it is truly pain, and not longing, I hope you find the courage to end things peacefully. If it is longing, and not pain, I pray for your pleasant softening of humors over time.
If it is truly pain, and not longing, I hope you find the courage to end things peacefully. If it is longing, and not pain, I pray for your pleasant softening of humors over time.
Written By Katryn
Feb. 16, 2020, 9:26 p.m.(10.276079695767196/9.460462962962962/1012.7730066413139 AR)
Relationship Note on Drake
Our little example was merely an example, and still...
Well, I hope it was educational for Jourdain. It was rather improprietous of me! Bade or not.
Well, I hope it was educational for Jourdain. It was rather improprietous of me! Bade or not.
Written By Katryn
Feb. 16, 2020, 9:25 p.m.(10.276020998677248/9.457175925925926/1012.7730017498898 AR)
I truly wonder if I read too many stories. Too many sets of tales depicting actions rather than doing them.
At times I think my head so far up in the clouds, outside of reality, searching and seeking for answers rather than doing them. I hope, and pray, that I am preparing myself for some great thing to come, but is it better to instead seek out, and find answers in reality?
Legate Bianca believes I should explore the waking world for answers, and I cannot call her wrong in that regard. What holds me back? Is it... myself?
At times I think my head so far up in the clouds, outside of reality, searching and seeking for answers rather than doing them. I hope, and pray, that I am preparing myself for some great thing to come, but is it better to instead seek out, and find answers in reality?
Legate Bianca believes I should explore the waking world for answers, and I cannot call her wrong in that regard. What holds me back? Is it... myself?
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