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Written By Rysen

April 6, 2020, 11:29 p.m.(1/24/1013 AR)

My retainer Deor has taken the death of Marquessa Arcadia very hard. He has asked to leave my service and dedicate his life to protecting the marquessa's daughter Lady Genevieve. I have granted his request, and though I am sick at heart to see him leave, it is not without some glimmer of contentment to know that, if he is accepted by House Stahlben, Lady Genevieve will be vigilantly guarded as long as Deor draws breath.

Meanwhile the High Inquisitor, Prince Alistair has assigned me an apprentice confessor named Leonce. He is fresh from Sanctum and eager to prove his skills to the Inquisition. Given my current assignment, I half suspect Prince Alistair doesn't much like the young man.

Written By Sunaia

April 6, 2020, 10:50 p.m.(1/24/1013 AR)

Relationship Note on Tibault

For years, Brighthold was my port-of-call, the place where I passed through most often, both coming and going, from Ashford Keep as I ran across the Compact from one city to another.

Always, Count Tibault was there to welcome me. Of course he would, so loyal to the Ashfords have the Laveers been.

I cannot remember a single time I visited when he was not the most gracious of hosts, even when I'd slip away without saying goodbye, leaving nothing but a note to say which direction I was heading. He'd always welcome me back with a meal and the warmth of his smiles, which I think I took for granted. I'm sure, now, that I did - as I took for granted so many things, so many relationships, in my youth.

On the heels of connecting, at last, with some of the Wyrmguards here in Arx and in remembering the family I've lost, it's Tibault, again - now in Arx - who is a calm, familiar beacon to me.

I look forward to talking with him, spending time with him again - this time, for longer than a few days in passing.

Written By Sydney

April 6, 2020, 9:01 p.m.(1/24/1013 AR)

There is much to be said of feeling useful - for the lack of it certainly does weigh on a body when there's nothing to put my talents to.

I suppose it's better not to feel useful for a few days than to feel utterly useless, which is a decidedly different matter.

Gods, though, the rust.

Written By Donella

April 6, 2020, 7:10 p.m.(1/24/1013 AR)

I have never been a woman that likes to share my opinions or my thoughts. I suppose it is why I do not write as much as I should upon the pages of the white journals. Who would care to the ramblings of one such as myself?

I find myself thinking of the people of the Northlands. In winter, I find myself doing this more often than not. They never cease to amaze me. They are everything that the lands hold. They are steadfast, they love deeply, they are fierce, they are protective, and yet they do this all with a mark of playfulness. It is like the winter, they are misunderstood to those that do not embrace them, but there is a needed harsh beauty to them.


Written By Monique

April 6, 2020, 6:48 p.m.(1/24/1013 AR)

Relationship Note on Etienne

Congratulations on another year surviving me, most constant of lights, shiniest of men. That's four. At five, I think we can call you the luckiest man alive.

Written By Ida

April 6, 2020, 6:45 p.m.(1/24/1013 AR)

Relationship Note on Riagnon

Lord Riagnon does me a great honor with his words and it made me smile. A lot.

I have written about struggling more often than not when crafting weapons over the last few months, though some good advice, as well as inspiring tales as the basis for pieces, I don't feel quite so lost in the forge.

Written By Corrigan

April 6, 2020, 6:01 p.m.(1/24/1013 AR)

Horrified to see that there's been an outbreak of poetry in the Whites. Thoughts and prayers for those affected.

Written By Esera

April 6, 2020, 5:18 p.m.(1/24/1013 AR)

I've been taking the time to read through my journal entries. The old ones, before my fall. I've been taking the time to remember.

The death of my mother, my coronation. The Nox'Alfar. The Teind. Excommunication. All the things that the world remembers, that history remembers. But I am finding other memories, too.

Sitting beside Edain, beneath the boughs of a weeping willow. Resting my head upon his shoulder. Smiling.

Dancing with Hadrian, at the edge of the reflecting pool, at the edge of a knife.

Fighting with my sister, Isolde. You would not believe the fights we'd have! You would not believe the /love/ we had.

Talen, and Eleyna . . . my father . . . my mother, with the spiders in her eyes. So many, many memories.

I am rediscovering the shape of who I am. I am rekindling my light.

Written By Saoirse

April 6, 2020, 3:25 p.m.(1/24/1013 AR)

Relationship Note on Caith

I fling myself over mental hurdles daily, hourly, dear Caith. I await the ring's return.

Written By Olivando

April 6, 2020, 11:50 a.m.(1/23/1013 AR)

I set down my pen just now and realized that I have not yet eaten. Along with the pangs of hunger I noticed a new, melancholic sensation. Different from the usual, faded grief. Ever since I joined the church I've thrown myself into my work, reading tomes, writing scripts and performing various clerical tasks. But there's more to learn that can't be found within dusty books. Perhaps I'll take a walk around the city and make some new acquaintances.

Written By Wren

April 6, 2020, 11:03 a.m.(1/23/1013 AR)

I don't own much jewelry, pieces get lost too easily with how much I'm on the move, but those pieces I do keep close are ones I treasure. There are earrings from my mother, little pearl drops that are simple, elegant, and go with just about anything I wear. There is also a ring from my sister given to me before I left Arx the first time. An emerald and diamond necklace from someone I miss terribly. And then there's a starfish set crafted by the late Josephine, pieces that I shall treasure and will intend to pass to the future in the form of one of my nieces.

This pretty brooch I won at auction shall be one of those pieces I treasure, keep close. I am proud of what was accomplished with ironwool, that I could lend any aid to such a worthy dream. It shall serve as a reminder of this and my desires. And one day, I shall pass it down to another dreamer in hopes that they too can realize everything they desire in life. For what are we without dreams?

Written By Tanith

April 6, 2020, 10:51 a.m.(1/23/1013 AR)

Trying to maintain a man's reputation and all efforts just go flying out the window. What the Abyss kind of path is this to take? Lightly stepping to make sure things aren't blown out of proportion, no one is mocked or told to fuck of, turns out I needn't have worried. Folks can take care of themselves. Yes, alright, I'm getting married, there's going to be a party and gods save me, Evaristo Arterius is going to throw it.

What -have- I done.

Written By Tanith

April 6, 2020, 10:42 a.m.(1/23/1013 AR)

It got cold and wet,
down your shirt, I fret,
so you walked me home.

We were tired from talking,
the streets, and the stalking,
so you walked me home.

It was too long to be up,
the mess, all those cups!
still, you walked me home.

Our hands fit just so,
the ice wind their foe,

Kept warm,
while you took us home.

Written By Gianna

April 6, 2020, 10:35 a.m.(1/23/1013 AR)

Relationship Note on Talia

Every time I step into Elegant Impressions to work out a new gown, I pause and gaze at the seraphim steelsilk gown there. I can't help myself. While I come up with the ideas for most of my clothing, that gown is beyond anything my imagination could have ever dreamed of. It is the pinnacle of dress design and craftsmanship, and my heart aches for it.

I have a particular relationship with clothing and fashion. When I was a child, I had nothing but castoffs and stolen items. I very purposefully had nothing anyone would want, because then I had nothing for them to take away. I dreamed of cloth that wasn't scratchy, of shirts and leggings without holes. Of sturdy shoes that didn't leak. I barely dared to dream about silk.

When I came to Arx, the first considerable bit of silver I came into was spent on a silk dress, slippers, and a bit of garnet jewelry to fit in places other than the Lowers. That's a story I've told many a time, and that clothing was a stepping stone toward the success I enjoy today. I gave up that dress for what I consider to be a good cause, but every other dress I've had made is tucked away in my suite at the College. I even wear them multiple times, to the horror of some. The jewelry, too, from the simple pieces I could afford when I was starting out to the epiphanite and dragonweep I have today. I can't throw them out. I still wear them. While I own a considerable amount of luxurious brocade, I also keep more common staples in my wardrobe. Items most commoners could afford, perhaps with a bit of saving, and I wear them proudly, because it shows that such expense isn't required to be fashionable, to be striking.

But that dress... that dress makes me not care if people can afford what I wear or not. I just want it. It is of such dizzying expense. Perhaps I could just try it on one day...?

Written By Strozza

April 6, 2020, 10:34 a.m.(1/23/1013 AR)

Tender walks weaving in-between steps of those who care after,
Slow gathering of their surrounding, eyes golden and ashen,
Wonder at their grace, and sometime lack there of, descending from a rafter,
Two new, tied together, one older and one faster
In many ways likened to another pair they mimic in their fashion.
Both strong with their bond to mistress and master,
Expressed in uneven measure of sweetness and dispassion.

Written By Strozza

April 6, 2020, 10:19 a.m.(1/23/1013 AR)

Relationship Note on Cambria

Cambria by Strozza Mazetti

Wend coils through the hearts distant and tightly held.
Watchful eye that keeps close the voice.
Seek us out the disparate that under single name we meld.
Coils like lines of rope, twisted braid to give poise.
Many heads and body single.
Through careful wisdom do we immingle.

Written By Catalana

April 6, 2020, 4:56 a.m.(1/23/1013 AR)

Relationship Note on Wash

My darling husband came third in a baking contest and presented me the most beautiful cupcake pin.

After tasting it, I wonder how many competed, but they were darling heart cookies and the children are excited to begin their baking adventures with daddy.

Clearly I have the most wonderful husband around.

Written By Sunaia

April 6, 2020, 4:44 a.m.(1/23/1013 AR)

Relationship Note on Killian

I happened upon several of our cousins at the Ambassador Salon, Killian. They're amazing, wonderful - and cousin Sorrel had so many amazing things to tell me of you and your adventures together. 'Murderdogs,' I think she called the beasts you fought together, shortly after meeting when she arrived in Arx. She tells her stories so well, it's like I was there. I love it.

And I love you, miss you fiercely. You'd hardly recognize me, though, I think - even aside from having grown.

I took to reading through some of your journals, which I haven't done before. I don't know why; I just haven't. No, that's entirely untrue: I know exactly why. I wasn't ready, didn't want to read about you as if I couldn't talk to you. But you don't talk back from that huge statue, even when I talk to you. (You don't talk back from the small one I keep in my pocket, either; though that would be quite a trick, wouldn't it?)

Aislin's gone. I'll read her journals next; maybe I can figure out how it is she always managed to befriend everyone she'd meet.

And I'm told I'm like Avary, repeatedly. Mainly by the Godsworn, but they'd know her best. I'm not sure how to take it, though, all things considered.

I'm learning a lot about myself, about others. Learning I can't do everything I might want to do. And I'm not entirely sure if I'm alone or if I'm not, though it matters less, now that I've found the Wyrmguards. I hope it matters less, anyway.

I'm managing, though, to accept that you're gone. There are those responsible for that, in a way, since I've been forced to realize a lot of truths.

Truths, Killian, are all I want anymore: The truth of you; the truth of me; the truths of Addison and Avary and Aislin. And others. And, truthfully, I'd rather be like you. I'd rather be a heroine. I'd rather be someone to admire.

I'm working towards it. But there are so many times when I regret our years apart and I just miss you.

Written By Cambria

April 6, 2020, 1:32 a.m.(1/22/1013 AR)

So much of art, but poetry especially, is inspired by infatuation, first loves, first kisses, and first glances. It is not hard to find songs written about longing and loss, heartbreak, estrangement, and pain. We are told all aspects of love - from rapture to sorrow - are beautiful. Yet it seems to me, overlooked in a dusty corner, there are but a handful of poems about domesticity and the joys of familiarity, and comparatively so few tales about the comfort and bliss of lifelong love.

Written By Sunaia

April 6, 2020, 12:46 a.m.(1/22/1013 AR)

Relationship Note on Felix

Gloria, what a beauty is my new weapon! I've never seen its like - neither in form nor in craftsmanship. The iridescite lilies absolutely shine against the alaricite; and the craftsmanship, the detail on the wolf is extraordinary. I'm so proud of it, so proud of my Moonsilver. Felix, too, is so thoughtful; he even managed to carve a detail into the moonstone at the base of the pommel to resemble the Ashford motif.

The priest is a master, truly. Jayus must be proud, extremely proud.

And I have found reason to be happy again.

I simply love it and it will never leave my side.

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