Written By Aureth
June 28, 2019, 11:44 p.m.(5/14/1011 AR)
Once I gathered your tears in a jar.
I will not pretend mine have not fallen freely, but I am not forsook. I am beloved -- as are you.
This is a beginning.
I will not pretend mine have not fallen freely, but I am not forsook. I am beloved -- as are you.
This is a beginning.
Written By Raimon
June 28, 2019, 9:02 p.m.(5/14/1011 AR)
The bet I placed on my wife to win the tournament of Thorns was returned to me. Clearly that is because everyone knew she would win.
Written By Elloise
June 28, 2019, 6:12 p.m.(5/14/1011 AR)
Wow, glasses are expensive! Did you know glasses are expensive? I'd never had to concern myself with it before. I wonder how commoners make do? Perhaps I should start a Vision Fund, for all the commoners who cannot see.
Written By Samithel
June 28, 2019, 4:21 p.m.(5/14/1011 AR)
Each star a song:
Every song a long,
Long road
This is a first entry. Surely some write these as soon as they can hold a quill. Parchment-caged music; to whom do I sing? Were this a gathering around the campfire, what sits across from me? It brings to mind a song, and though inking it feels…incomplete, that seems the truth for most journals.
Stranger oh familiar one, take a log with me.
Let me hear your story, joys and miseries.
Tell me of the animals, the way the winter sings.
How the summer whispers, when the autumn springs.
Why in this world our eyes are mirrors;
Shape a dream with me.
Of when the days and nights were clearer;
Share a dream with me.
Shape a dream with me.
Speaker oh you silent one, share your eyes with me
Show me something awful; something rare and free.
What color are the whisper, the lights between the leaves.
What shades the sunlight shadows oh so beautifully.
Well in this world our eyes are mirrors;
Shape a dream with me.
Of when the days and nights were clearer;
Share a dream with me.
Shape a dream with me.
Creature oh forgotten one, sing a song with me.
Sing me of time’s own blood, your loss and victory.
The taste of rain, a nightmare’s bane, the starlight that you drink.
What you see through ancient bars when we dare to blink.
Oh in this world our eyes are mirrors;
Shape a dream with me.
Of when the days and nights were clearer;
Share a dream with me.
Shape a dream with me.
Dream a dream with me.
Every song a long,
Long road
This is a first entry. Surely some write these as soon as they can hold a quill. Parchment-caged music; to whom do I sing? Were this a gathering around the campfire, what sits across from me? It brings to mind a song, and though inking it feels…incomplete, that seems the truth for most journals.
Stranger oh familiar one, take a log with me.
Let me hear your story, joys and miseries.
Tell me of the animals, the way the winter sings.
How the summer whispers, when the autumn springs.
Why in this world our eyes are mirrors;
Shape a dream with me.
Of when the days and nights were clearer;
Share a dream with me.
Shape a dream with me.
Speaker oh you silent one, share your eyes with me
Show me something awful; something rare and free.
What color are the whisper, the lights between the leaves.
What shades the sunlight shadows oh so beautifully.
Well in this world our eyes are mirrors;
Shape a dream with me.
Of when the days and nights were clearer;
Share a dream with me.
Shape a dream with me.
Creature oh forgotten one, sing a song with me.
Sing me of time’s own blood, your loss and victory.
The taste of rain, a nightmare’s bane, the starlight that you drink.
What you see through ancient bars when we dare to blink.
Oh in this world our eyes are mirrors;
Shape a dream with me.
Of when the days and nights were clearer;
Share a dream with me.
Shape a dream with me.
Dream a dream with me.
Written By Gwenna
June 28, 2019, 4:19 p.m.(5/14/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Bliss
Radiant Bliss Whisper is someone I have known for a few years now, if at first mostly in passing, but I hope she considers us friends, as I certainly think of her as one of mine. When I was just getting to know her, I thought saying that she was every bit as enchanting and lovely in person as one might have been lead to believe by her reputation, was to give her little credit. Bold and passionate, certainly, I've come to know her as warm, charitable, and compassionate as well. We seem to be able to agree to disagree on things and not have that change our personal feelings. At least thus far.
The things I have seen her achieve are ones that will surely become tales told for many lifetimes after we are all gone. The reception she arranged for Lorenzo and I remains one of the most wonderful times I have had in my life. That she invited me to assist in the Northlands Whisper House endeavor is an honor and experience that I won't ever forget, either.
I am grateful for her trust and honesty, for I suspect they are things one may need to earn with her.
The things I have seen her achieve are ones that will surely become tales told for many lifetimes after we are all gone. The reception she arranged for Lorenzo and I remains one of the most wonderful times I have had in my life. That she invited me to assist in the Northlands Whisper House endeavor is an honor and experience that I won't ever forget, either.
I am grateful for her trust and honesty, for I suspect they are things one may need to earn with her.
Written By Sparte
June 28, 2019, 3:43 p.m.(5/14/1011 AR)
I thank those who wrote to me regarding the recent journal to check on me. It can be confusing sometimes, what people learn in the whites. Read into things too much or too little and it can be worse than confusing, you can walk away with a truth that never was.
I was touched to be given so grand a personage in dream-struck writings cut by a clever hand, but a dream is all it was.
I was touched to be given so grand a personage in dream-struck writings cut by a clever hand, but a dream is all it was.
Written By Juniper
June 28, 2019, 3:35 p.m.(5/14/1011 AR)
Sometimes there are choices to make which have no wrong outcome. Or at least, no wrong outcome in the sense that neither will do harm, and each is equally valid and worthy. Those are the choices which scare me most, the ones which feel as if there's the most at stake. Two separate paths and they were both lined with flowers for me, sketched out in glowing terms... and both so radically different from each other that there's no way to tell if five years from now, ten, twenty years, if I'll regret the choice or not. I've changed so much in the two years I've been here, how can I predict what I'll feel, who I'll be, that far down the path?
Some choices are easily made. I thought when I made this one, I'd feel less restless and worried about my future self.
It wasn't the wrong choice but I do hope it was the right one.
Some choices are easily made. I thought when I made this one, I'd feel less restless and worried about my future self.
It wasn't the wrong choice but I do hope it was the right one.
Written By Juniper
June 28, 2019, 3:35 p.m.(5/14/1011 AR)
Sometimes there are choices to make which have no wrong outcome. Or at least, no wrong outcome in the sense that neither will do harm, and each is equally valid and worthy. Those are the choices which scare me most, the ones which feel as if there's the most at stake. Two separate paths and they were both lined with flowers for me, sketched out in glowing terms... and both so radically different from each other that there's no way to tell if five years from now, ten, twenty years, if I'll regret the choice or not. I've changed so much in the two years I've been here, how can I predict what I'll feel, who I'll be, that far down the path?
Some choices are easily made. I thought when I made this one, I'd feel less restless and worried about my future self.
It wasn't the wrong choice but I do hope it was the right one.
Some choices are easily made. I thought when I made this one, I'd feel less restless and worried about my future self.
It wasn't the wrong choice but I do hope it was the right one.
Written By Vincenzo
June 28, 2019, 2:05 p.m.(5/14/1011 AR)
The Brave Bards met on a spring evening, that black axe where we sat and sang so comfortably before our procession went and to the spring moon we sang and danced in the grotto while libations and music filled soul and night. Gems and strife, of pretty things and pretty prices. Of blood and bone, claw and tooth, of rock and soil and, well, you get the idea. Raucous cacophony as silver moonlight splashed across the world, mixed with the gold of our fire.
I woke in a dream, but awake did I slumber.
That treasure they took, unseen did they plunder.
Bright sun was gone, the stars were pitch.
Black treasure shined, worn by the witch.
A clan held tight, to shadows they speak.
In forest, to flowers, pretty things now they seek.
Awake in a dream, but lost in this life.
A choice that was made, lost love and gained strife.
I woke in a dream, but awake did I slumber.
That treasure they took, unseen did they plunder.
Bright sun was gone, the stars were pitch.
Black treasure shined, worn by the witch.
A clan held tight, to shadows they speak.
In forest, to flowers, pretty things now they seek.
Awake in a dream, but lost in this life.
A choice that was made, lost love and gained strife.
Written By Rysen
June 28, 2019, 12:45 p.m.(5/13/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Joscelin
Though I cannot say I met her,
No soul born Crovane
Could ever live to speaking years
Without honoring the name
Of Joscelin Arterius,
Who when our home was razed,
Raised with all her genius arts
A new home from the blaze.
Wrought of stone from mountains,
To keep our people safe,
Her work defies the Gyre,
And restored honor to Crovane.
Even now in Stormwall,
Craftsfolk study at the school
Named after her in honor
To continue her pursuits,
And though I say I knew her not,
Still truly I will miss
Her journals in the Whites that spoke
Of work and friends and kids.
She truly was the pinnacle
Of Arvum's art and craft,
And a mother like no other,
Who now walks a hidden path.
Wherever it may take her,
We of Stormwall won't forget
The legacy she left with us,
Her fame forever shall persist.
No soul born Crovane
Could ever live to speaking years
Without honoring the name
Of Joscelin Arterius,
Who when our home was razed,
Raised with all her genius arts
A new home from the blaze.
Wrought of stone from mountains,
To keep our people safe,
Her work defies the Gyre,
And restored honor to Crovane.
Even now in Stormwall,
Craftsfolk study at the school
Named after her in honor
To continue her pursuits,
And though I say I knew her not,
Still truly I will miss
Her journals in the Whites that spoke
Of work and friends and kids.
She truly was the pinnacle
Of Arvum's art and craft,
And a mother like no other,
Who now walks a hidden path.
Wherever it may take her,
We of Stormwall won't forget
The legacy she left with us,
Her fame forever shall persist.
Written By Rysen
June 28, 2019, 11:56 a.m.(5/13/1011 AR)
I've never loved meat pies.
I joined the Iron Guard and their allies to look into a report of missing persons. The examination of the missing couple's house did not portend a happy outcome, as we uncovered evidence of violence and butchery.
Lord Commander of the Iron Guard, Silas Whitehawk ordered a search for a suspicious person that had been nearby - a pie merchant. We tracked the suspect from two directions, and one of our team, Mirella Fiorelli, managed to apprehend the pie man single handedly, by taking his back and putting a dagger to his throat.
The wily villain did all he could to turn the situation to his advantage by shouting for help, but the powerful rhetoric of Countess Mikani Byrne and Lord Domonico Malvici quickly restored public order. After I administered a few brief tests to confirm the pie merchant was free of a certain class of aberrations, he was arrested by the Lord Commander and is now being held by the Iron Guard for further interrogation and trial.
My admiration and desire to work alongside Lord Ian, Sir Merek and various others present continues unabated. I have also gained a healthy respect for the power of Princess Denica's words, as they quickly bent the pie maker to her will. It was also a sincere pleasure, in spite of the grisly circumstances, to work with Lord Commander Silas, and the result of the investigation proves the efficacy and alacrity of the Inquisition and Iron Guard's ability to work together to keep the city safe.
I joined the Iron Guard and their allies to look into a report of missing persons. The examination of the missing couple's house did not portend a happy outcome, as we uncovered evidence of violence and butchery.
Lord Commander of the Iron Guard, Silas Whitehawk ordered a search for a suspicious person that had been nearby - a pie merchant. We tracked the suspect from two directions, and one of our team, Mirella Fiorelli, managed to apprehend the pie man single handedly, by taking his back and putting a dagger to his throat.
The wily villain did all he could to turn the situation to his advantage by shouting for help, but the powerful rhetoric of Countess Mikani Byrne and Lord Domonico Malvici quickly restored public order. After I administered a few brief tests to confirm the pie merchant was free of a certain class of aberrations, he was arrested by the Lord Commander and is now being held by the Iron Guard for further interrogation and trial.
My admiration and desire to work alongside Lord Ian, Sir Merek and various others present continues unabated. I have also gained a healthy respect for the power of Princess Denica's words, as they quickly bent the pie maker to her will. It was also a sincere pleasure, in spite of the grisly circumstances, to work with Lord Commander Silas, and the result of the investigation proves the efficacy and alacrity of the Inquisition and Iron Guard's ability to work together to keep the city safe.
Written By Mikani
June 28, 2019, 11:38 a.m.(5/13/1011 AR)
Fear is such a de-railer of goals.
What goals am I de-railing? What goals are you de-railing?
What goals am I de-railing? What goals are you de-railing?
Written By Ajax
June 28, 2019, 4:21 a.m.(5/13/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Joscelin
I remember my first night in this city proper. Overwhelmed by the crowds, the noise, the fact you can easily run into a Prince or Princess daily. Then I meet you, and Scout Nova and we have a pleasant chat.
You two were the first people I met in this city and you were always good to me. For that? I have nothing but genuine gratitude. Wherever you go? I hope you find happiness. You deserve it.
You two were the first people I met in this city and you were always good to me. For that? I have nothing but genuine gratitude. Wherever you go? I hope you find happiness. You deserve it.
Written By Hana
June 28, 2019, 4:01 a.m.(5/13/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Joscelin
How do you fit six years into a single journal? How do you capture someone so important without an entire book of words? What can I write so that twenty years from now, I can read it and remember this moment perfectly? What can I possibly say so that if someone reads this journal five hundred years from now, looking to know more about Joscelin Arterius, they'll understand what she meant to me? To all of us?
I don't know; I don't think I'm a writer, or a poet, or a playwright, or someone who's really all that good with words sometimes. But I'm going to try anyway.
Six years ago (and sixteen years younger) after my mother Phyllida died, I came to Arx looking for the father I'd never met; I found so much more family than I expected. I learned I had an uncle, a grandmother, and two aunts.
I met those two aunts at the same time I met my father; Joscelin Arterius and Ianthe Artusio were sitting at a table in the Traders Tavern with Aureth when I approached him to tell him who I was. I ended up wearing the mouthful of cider he'd been drinking when I told him, and Aunt Josie handed me a napkin, and introduced Ianthe and herself as my aunts. They weren't kin by blood, but she meant it.
She became guildmaster of the Crafters Guild not long after I arrived, and helped me settle in. When I wanted to apprentice for a while, in order to learn how to apply the smithing techniques I'd learned, Aunt Josie was the one who found me a place. When I decided I was ready to open the Storied Blade on my own, it was Aunt Josie who helped me get the shop built. When I needed funds to get the materials to start making blades for the shop, it was Aunt Josie who loaned me the money. It was Aunt Josie whose jewelry inspired me to more elegant designs for the blades I made. Who I am now, what I can make, is because she inspired me.
When my father took his vows as godsworn, Uncle Fortunato talked about my own calling towards Jayus, and he asked what I wanted. I gave him three answers -- all about why I make things -- and one of them was this:
"I want to make things that inspire people, or make them feel the way I did when I saw Prism's bird that you brought to show me flying around the room. That makes their imagination come alive."
I'd only known Aunt Josie for a bit over a year by then, but that answer has her mark on it just as much as any piece of jewelry she made. Even back then, she inspired me to want to inspire others.
There was more than just inspiration, of course; she was family. She showed me how to give someone unconditional support and love; I tried to be there for her in return when our family lost so many people. My grandmother, Myrinda. Aunt Ianthe. My friend, Dame Zhayla, who had pretty much become an honorary Grayhope. Grief tempered the metal of our relationship, making it stronger.
I always called her Aunt Josie, but by the end... if I divided my life into two parts, the time before I came to Arx, and everything since, then I would say I had a mother in each; Phyllida Tinker before I came here, and Joscelin Arterius afterwards. And I knew she felt the same, but it still felt good to hear the first time she told me that. Even if I know I sometimes made her frantic with worry over some of the things I've done!
And now she's gone away, and I'm not quite sure what the right way is to say goodbye. When I'm acting as a Disciple in the Shrine of Jayus, sometimes I tell people "may Jayus gift you inspiration" when they leave. But I can't say that here, because I know he already has, more inspiration than one person can contain; she had so much she overflowed, sharing it with the rest of us. She gave me enough love and inspiration in six years to last the rest of my lifetime.
And yet the last thing she ever told me, in a letter she gave me before she left, was that /I/ inspired /her/. Coming from Aunt Josie, who inspired so much of who I am today, and what I do... that's the greatest compliment I think I could ever receive.
I guess I'll just end with this: You leave a hole behind you, because no one else can ever replace you. But a hole can be filled with water and become a lake; the hole you leave behind is filled with love, and beauty, and inspiration. I'll miss you so much. But every time I go to that lake, or see someone else visit it, I'll smile.
Thank you, mom. Bye.
I don't know; I don't think I'm a writer, or a poet, or a playwright, or someone who's really all that good with words sometimes. But I'm going to try anyway.
Six years ago (and sixteen years younger) after my mother Phyllida died, I came to Arx looking for the father I'd never met; I found so much more family than I expected. I learned I had an uncle, a grandmother, and two aunts.
I met those two aunts at the same time I met my father; Joscelin Arterius and Ianthe Artusio were sitting at a table in the Traders Tavern with Aureth when I approached him to tell him who I was. I ended up wearing the mouthful of cider he'd been drinking when I told him, and Aunt Josie handed me a napkin, and introduced Ianthe and herself as my aunts. They weren't kin by blood, but she meant it.
She became guildmaster of the Crafters Guild not long after I arrived, and helped me settle in. When I wanted to apprentice for a while, in order to learn how to apply the smithing techniques I'd learned, Aunt Josie was the one who found me a place. When I decided I was ready to open the Storied Blade on my own, it was Aunt Josie who helped me get the shop built. When I needed funds to get the materials to start making blades for the shop, it was Aunt Josie who loaned me the money. It was Aunt Josie whose jewelry inspired me to more elegant designs for the blades I made. Who I am now, what I can make, is because she inspired me.
When my father took his vows as godsworn, Uncle Fortunato talked about my own calling towards Jayus, and he asked what I wanted. I gave him three answers -- all about why I make things -- and one of them was this:
"I want to make things that inspire people, or make them feel the way I did when I saw Prism's bird that you brought to show me flying around the room. That makes their imagination come alive."
I'd only known Aunt Josie for a bit over a year by then, but that answer has her mark on it just as much as any piece of jewelry she made. Even back then, she inspired me to want to inspire others.
There was more than just inspiration, of course; she was family. She showed me how to give someone unconditional support and love; I tried to be there for her in return when our family lost so many people. My grandmother, Myrinda. Aunt Ianthe. My friend, Dame Zhayla, who had pretty much become an honorary Grayhope. Grief tempered the metal of our relationship, making it stronger.
I always called her Aunt Josie, but by the end... if I divided my life into two parts, the time before I came to Arx, and everything since, then I would say I had a mother in each; Phyllida Tinker before I came here, and Joscelin Arterius afterwards. And I knew she felt the same, but it still felt good to hear the first time she told me that. Even if I know I sometimes made her frantic with worry over some of the things I've done!
And now she's gone away, and I'm not quite sure what the right way is to say goodbye. When I'm acting as a Disciple in the Shrine of Jayus, sometimes I tell people "may Jayus gift you inspiration" when they leave. But I can't say that here, because I know he already has, more inspiration than one person can contain; she had so much she overflowed, sharing it with the rest of us. She gave me enough love and inspiration in six years to last the rest of my lifetime.
And yet the last thing she ever told me, in a letter she gave me before she left, was that /I/ inspired /her/. Coming from Aunt Josie, who inspired so much of who I am today, and what I do... that's the greatest compliment I think I could ever receive.
I guess I'll just end with this: You leave a hole behind you, because no one else can ever replace you. But a hole can be filled with water and become a lake; the hole you leave behind is filled with love, and beauty, and inspiration. I'll miss you so much. But every time I go to that lake, or see someone else visit it, I'll smile.
Thank you, mom. Bye.
Written By Mabelle
June 28, 2019, 1:47 a.m.(5/13/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Miranda
What bonds unlikely friendships between women?
Joined faith? Mutual concerns? A similar affinity to cause mischief?
What do you get when you combine all those together?
I'm scared. You should be too.
Joined faith? Mutual concerns? A similar affinity to cause mischief?
What do you get when you combine all those together?
I'm scared. You should be too.
Written By Elisha
June 28, 2019, 1:02 a.m.(5/12/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Sparte
(This much is true: King Alaric summons me to his opal chamber late at night, and bathes me in scented water while his astrologers and hierophants and thralls explain that Skald chose to divide himself from himself, to change so completely that he forgot his own divinity. He walks among us now in the form of a young guardsman with burgundy hair and hazel eyes who refuses every royal command to acknowledge his true self.)
* * *
You learned first,
not to touch fire,
and second to caress it.
You plucked a black fig
from a low branch,
and saw a raw red glare.
You squint your eyes
and the bonfires
freeze on your horse's mane.
You crave the moment
when your drawn blade,
is too sharp to kill.
Like viper venom?
No.
Like wolf's milk.
* * *
The first clans watch the dreams of their pyre-side shadows and, even before the camp-following wolves lose their voices, the ritual sharing and eating of food replaces sacrifice:
How easily
cowardice slips
away like skin
from a blanched peach.
A curved yoke, a bamboo flute, a crossbow, a tether, a choice. What is the purpose of a well-made tool? To ease and lighten work? Sand is heated by alchemical fires into glass and lenses are ground into bridges that fetchforth the distance between orphan and commander, and anchor against invisible embankments.
You cross the bridge, while behind you, the cold green umber of a storm gains strength. You are surprised when your lover reaches to join hands and offer thanks for your safe return. The storms gains strength and, where the mountains should be, there's a crisscross of lightning. Am I the son, you wonder, of the dire bear?
The thunder comes,
more delayed
than you ever imagined.
* * *
You learned first,
not to touch fire,
and second to caress it.
You plucked a black fig
from a low branch,
and saw a raw red glare.
You squint your eyes
and the bonfires
freeze on your horse's mane.
You crave the moment
when your drawn blade,
is too sharp to kill.
Like viper venom?
No.
Like wolf's milk.
* * *
The first clans watch the dreams of their pyre-side shadows and, even before the camp-following wolves lose their voices, the ritual sharing and eating of food replaces sacrifice:
How easily
cowardice slips
away like skin
from a blanched peach.
A curved yoke, a bamboo flute, a crossbow, a tether, a choice. What is the purpose of a well-made tool? To ease and lighten work? Sand is heated by alchemical fires into glass and lenses are ground into bridges that fetchforth the distance between orphan and commander, and anchor against invisible embankments.
You cross the bridge, while behind you, the cold green umber of a storm gains strength. You are surprised when your lover reaches to join hands and offer thanks for your safe return. The storms gains strength and, where the mountains should be, there's a crisscross of lightning. Am I the son, you wonder, of the dire bear?
The thunder comes,
more delayed
than you ever imagined.
Written By Maja
June 28, 2019, 12:48 a.m.(5/12/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Joscelin
Guildmaster Joscelin.
We designed so many items of jewelry together. I would come to you with a wisp of an idea and you always managed to transform it into something beyond my imagination. I was -- and continue to be -- overcome by awe at your skill. But it was your altruistic graciousness that made you truly special and set you apart from all others.
When I was first starting out as a merchant, you gave me seed money to get my business started. You didn't know me -- I was a stranger to you -- but you did not hesitate to help. It wasn't a loan, you told me. It was a gift. I will never forget your kindness and the part you played in my life. You helped me place my foot on the path to success; you were responsible for me taking that first step. Who would I be today without your aid? Probably still poor, hungry, and desperate.
We were supposed to get a drink together but life kept our schedules so busy. Every so often, we would exchange messages, declaring that we needed to get together -- soon! It was always 'soon'. But soon never came and I will regret, always, that I did not simply make the time.
So I sit here now, opposite a glass of wine that belongs to you, and raise my glass to you:
Thank you, Joscelin. Thank you for everything.
Cheers.
We designed so many items of jewelry together. I would come to you with a wisp of an idea and you always managed to transform it into something beyond my imagination. I was -- and continue to be -- overcome by awe at your skill. But it was your altruistic graciousness that made you truly special and set you apart from all others.
When I was first starting out as a merchant, you gave me seed money to get my business started. You didn't know me -- I was a stranger to you -- but you did not hesitate to help. It wasn't a loan, you told me. It was a gift. I will never forget your kindness and the part you played in my life. You helped me place my foot on the path to success; you were responsible for me taking that first step. Who would I be today without your aid? Probably still poor, hungry, and desperate.
We were supposed to get a drink together but life kept our schedules so busy. Every so often, we would exchange messages, declaring that we needed to get together -- soon! It was always 'soon'. But soon never came and I will regret, always, that I did not simply make the time.
So I sit here now, opposite a glass of wine that belongs to you, and raise my glass to you:
Thank you, Joscelin. Thank you for everything.
Cheers.
Written By Dustin
June 28, 2019, 12:32 a.m.(5/12/1011 AR)
Roof full of golden flowers...
Written By Vanora
June 28, 2019, 12:26 a.m.(5/12/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Sudara
You are silly and delightful. As if I'd think my married-rank makes my time more valuable than that of the Truespeaker.
I love you the most.
I love you the most.
Written By Skye
June 27, 2019, 11:45 p.m.(5/12/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Joscelin
I would not be where I am today without the generous contributions you provided. You rallied your crafters, found tradesmen willing to help me rebuild and provided me a different perspective that influenced my interactions. There are so many ways you help me grow into the leader I am today.
I shall make sure that House Blackshore will remember for future generations.
I shall make sure that House Blackshore will remember for future generations.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.