Written By Khanne
Nov. 14, 2018, 1:12 p.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
I want to personally thank every single person who has done and are doing all they are able to for the Lodge of Petrichor and all that reside there, those who continue to give of themselves for the cause, and the families of those who have made the ultimate sacrifice. Though I am a member there, I am not high ranking enough to claim my voice speaks on behalf of the group. This is just my personal appreciation for each and every one of you.
Thank you.
And for those who have lost their lives, lost their loved ones.... my heart both hurts for the loss of your presence in our current lives and busts with awe and in some cases pride for knowing the person you were in this lifetime and how strong you were to have given so much of yourself, to the last. I hope to honor those who have passed from our grasp to return to The Wheel soon.
To Cybele and Bashira, members of the Spirit Walkers, both such talented and wonderful people, know that I am blessed to have known you. Thank you both for the impact you made upon my own life.
And to those who went with me... who listened to my plea for assistance in hopes of accomplishing something so absolutely dangerous... who feared, perhaps, their own chances of survival in even attempting this feat (Spirits know there are few times I have ever felt my own mortality so deeply)... who despite all that stood by my side in that clearing... some of whom very nearly (much much much too nearly) lost their lives in trying to see us all to success... I know you all know how very much it meant to me to do... and I hope you all know how much it means to me that you helped. Words will never be able to come close to expressing the depths of my gratitude. But....
Thank you.
Thank you.
And for those who have lost their lives, lost their loved ones.... my heart both hurts for the loss of your presence in our current lives and busts with awe and in some cases pride for knowing the person you were in this lifetime and how strong you were to have given so much of yourself, to the last. I hope to honor those who have passed from our grasp to return to The Wheel soon.
To Cybele and Bashira, members of the Spirit Walkers, both such talented and wonderful people, know that I am blessed to have known you. Thank you both for the impact you made upon my own life.
And to those who went with me... who listened to my plea for assistance in hopes of accomplishing something so absolutely dangerous... who feared, perhaps, their own chances of survival in even attempting this feat (Spirits know there are few times I have ever felt my own mortality so deeply)... who despite all that stood by my side in that clearing... some of whom very nearly (much much much too nearly) lost their lives in trying to see us all to success... I know you all know how very much it meant to me to do... and I hope you all know how much it means to me that you helped. Words will never be able to come close to expressing the depths of my gratitude. But....
Thank you.
Written By Valdemar
Nov. 14, 2018, 1:02 p.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Harald
My father is dead. I've said those words many times since it happened, and now even writing them down, it doesn't quite seem real in spite of the fact that I was there when he fell. I was always fairly sure that he would outlast me. He was like a mountain, not only in that he was a tall man, but that there was a sense of permanence to him. No matter what else was changing around him, there he was, staring those changes down, challenging their worthiness. Every time I step into the Great Grim Hall of our longhouse, I still expect to see him in his place at the head of that table. When I don't, the shock of his loss comes flooding back, and I cannot help but wonder how long it will take before this new reality sets in and feels as solid as he was.
Written By Khanne
Nov. 14, 2018, 12:54 p.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
I have in the last few days felt such a variety of emotions. If I did not know better, I would think I needed to be concerned about my sanity. Some might say I should be anyway....
Worry. Fear. Anxiousness. Longing. Love. Joy. Sadness. Frustration. More worry. Trepidation. Confusion (technically not an emotion but sometimes it feels like one). More sadness. Loss. Determination. Disgust. Near crippling concern. And an absolute relief so strong that while blood and gore rained down upon us, all I could do was laugh while sobbing. That is still present.... I want to laugh and I still want to cry.
The one constant that was within me through all the ups and downs... The one thing I refuse to let go of... The thing that carries me through so many trials and tragedies...
Hope.
Worry. Fear. Anxiousness. Longing. Love. Joy. Sadness. Frustration. More worry. Trepidation. Confusion (technically not an emotion but sometimes it feels like one). More sadness. Loss. Determination. Disgust. Near crippling concern. And an absolute relief so strong that while blood and gore rained down upon us, all I could do was laugh while sobbing. That is still present.... I want to laugh and I still want to cry.
The one constant that was within me through all the ups and downs... The one thing I refuse to let go of... The thing that carries me through so many trials and tragedies...
Hope.
Written By Reigna
Nov. 14, 2018, 11:58 a.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Cybele
It does not yet feel real. When I saw the reports that you had fallen, it was like the ground under me fell away. There is a hole in my world where you once stood, a glaring absence in a Cybele-shaped void. I know that you have returned to the arms of the Queen, and that she has welcomed you home -- at least I hope that you have. If not I promise... I promise to listen hard. I hope you knew how much I trusted you. How much I learned from you. I hope you know how treasured you are. Not were. Are. Your teachings, your gentleness, kindness will be at the forefront of my mind, and I will carry you with me to every student I teach, to every herb I make into a poultice, in every new face that I greet with the openness you helped teach me. I will not say you will be missed. For I will carry you with me, always. Non Omnis Moriar.
Written By Lisebet
Nov. 14, 2018, 11:55 a.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
The toll keeps climbing.
Day by day the price gets steeper. And yet, the price for doing nothing is still higher, and will always be so.
It brings to crystal clarity memories of those now lost, and the sudden sharp fear when someone I am fond of doesn't reply to a messenger. Followed by the worry and relief to learn they are alive but badly injured. Alive and will recover thankfully.
Day by day the price gets steeper. And yet, the price for doing nothing is still higher, and will always be so.
It brings to crystal clarity memories of those now lost, and the sudden sharp fear when someone I am fond of doesn't reply to a messenger. Followed by the worry and relief to learn they are alive but badly injured. Alive and will recover thankfully.
Written By Lucita
Nov. 14, 2018, 11:50 a.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Cybele
Cybele is gone? She will be sorely missed! Her wisdom, her advice, her hugs, her sharing of herself and willingness to let others share with her. She helped me become a stronger person, more capable of following my duty.
Written By Sparte
Nov. 14, 2018, 11:45 a.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
More losses come to my ears. So many good and noble souls who are now fallen heroes. I will remember them as best as I can, pray for their return to the wheel at Death's Shrine, but it is difficult not to dwell on this.
I tell others that those fallen arn't gone for ever, we merely walk apart from one another for a time. That with the turning of the wheel, our paths may cross once again.
I know there is truth to those words or I would not say them, yet the pain of loss is still a heavy thing. With each war it grows heavier.
I tell others that those fallen arn't gone for ever, we merely walk apart from one another for a time. That with the turning of the wheel, our paths may cross once again.
I know there is truth to those words or I would not say them, yet the pain of loss is still a heavy thing. With each war it grows heavier.
Written By Natalia
Nov. 14, 2018, 11:35 a.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Gareth
According to the whites, my brother is dead.
I do not have words.
I do not have words.
Written By Thena
Nov. 14, 2018, 10:44 a.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
I should be dead. Not in the survivor's guilt way, but in the 'last I checked I was bleeding out on the forest floor with my life flashing before my eyes' way.
Either the gods spared me or they were trying to teach me a lesson. Maybe both.
Either the gods spared me or they were trying to teach me a lesson. Maybe both.
Written By Lorna
Nov. 14, 2018, 9:13 a.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Cybele
Cybele was one of the first people that I met in Arx and they immediately made me feel welcomed. Both wild and gentle in equal measure, with wisdom that I will miss.
Written By Macda
Nov. 14, 2018, 8:59 a.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
In a dream
============
trace of dust on cobalt bed
scent of myrrh upon handle
his lips demand to be fed
tempting is his scandal
murmur decry his appetites risky
but able fingers trace her cheek
he prefers highborn whiskey
she drinks anything not too weak
blood-stained maw, danger implicit
but sure of its guiding
a dagger to collect their spirits
every memory abiding
apparent his pleasure may settle
in baths and battlefield
pray his rage be confined to metal
deaf to most appeal
rituals of war and doom
written on a stone heart
redness at the wound
where his kiss did start
expert in death, eager of flesh
ripping heart from offered chest
none are safe outside the creche
heed trap disguised as nest
Oph enc iewuk ti wsbptyx qurfsj, wzj xobz Qfnmrd.
============
trace of dust on cobalt bed
scent of myrrh upon handle
his lips demand to be fed
tempting is his scandal
murmur decry his appetites risky
but able fingers trace her cheek
he prefers highborn whiskey
she drinks anything not too weak
blood-stained maw, danger implicit
but sure of its guiding
a dagger to collect their spirits
every memory abiding
apparent his pleasure may settle
in baths and battlefield
pray his rage be confined to metal
deaf to most appeal
rituals of war and doom
written on a stone heart
redness at the wound
where his kiss did start
expert in death, eager of flesh
ripping heart from offered chest
none are safe outside the creche
heed trap disguised as nest
Oph enc iewuk ti wsbptyx qurfsj, wzj xobz Qfnmrd.
Written By Faye
Nov. 14, 2018, 8:48 a.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Gareth
I can't pretend that Inquisitor Gareth and I were the best of friends. Or very good friends at all. But I will not revisit disagreements. I will say I always respected his loyalty and his work with the Inquisition. One of my favorite memories of him was when he, Princess Caith, and I were in his office (had we been talking about bunnies?), drinking wine and chatting. He was a good man, loved by his family and valued within the Inquisition.
This fucking poison. It's serious business, I tell you that. I'm no expert myself, but if there's any lesson to be learned from messing around with it, it's that you take your life in your hands every fucking time. Don't just say to yourself, "This sounds cool," or "I just want to try this out." This isn't an aspirational hobby. The poison fucking sucks, and your family and friends will miss you when you're gone.
This fucking poison. It's serious business, I tell you that. I'm no expert myself, but if there's any lesson to be learned from messing around with it, it's that you take your life in your hands every fucking time. Don't just say to yourself, "This sounds cool," or "I just want to try this out." This isn't an aspirational hobby. The poison fucking sucks, and your family and friends will miss you when you're gone.
Written By Norwood
Nov. 14, 2018, 7:45 a.m.(12/26/1009 AR)
What commentary does it make that I feel that hunting those who would wish Duskshire, Laurent, and Keaton ill is easier than some of this paperwork?
I do believe I need to get Eddard to sit down a shift though it. Perhaps his flighty eyes might see where I have muddled the details this time.
I don't wish for injury and death, but this paperwork might just be more dangerous than the sword.
I do believe I need to get Eddard to sit down a shift though it. Perhaps his flighty eyes might see where I have muddled the details this time.
I don't wish for injury and death, but this paperwork might just be more dangerous than the sword.
Written By Kenna
Nov. 14, 2018, 7:42 a.m.(12/26/1009 AR)
There is so much sorrow. I hope I can find some small way to bring brightness to those I love that hurt.
Written By Iseulet
Nov. 14, 2018, 1:02 a.m.(12/26/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Gareth
He never let me get to know him particularly well, even though I think once I bribed him with a blueberry pie or something sweet from Petals' shop.
But, he was the Empyrean's very first officially 'recruited' member and I was always grateful. When he approached me then and visited once later, it meant a great deal to me. More than I can express in words in a white journal.
I'm deeply saddened by the news of his passing.
My condolences are offered to everyone he left behind.
But, he was the Empyrean's very first officially 'recruited' member and I was always grateful. When he approached me then and visited once later, it meant a great deal to me. More than I can express in words in a white journal.
I'm deeply saddened by the news of his passing.
My condolences are offered to everyone he left behind.
Written By Fortunato
Nov. 14, 2018, 12:44 a.m.(12/26/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Cybele
Cybele was a guide and a teacher to me while I was lost in turbulent waters. Cybele's concept of liminality, existing between, has remained an inspiration to me.
I still have so much to learn. I will miss them deeply.
I still have so much to learn. I will miss them deeply.
Written By Joscelin
Nov. 14, 2018, 12:10 a.m.(12/26/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Gareth
Not many know that we knew each other, or that we were friends, or that it was you that gifted me with Mongoose when I was at my most vulnerable, my most fearful, or that it was your embrace the night Oliver died that shook me loose from the stupor of shock. If there weren't witnesses to the latter, I daresay most would call me a liar.
But you were my friend. Your promises meant much to me. I am sad for your loss for many reasons, most that I cannot write here, and some that I lack the ability to express.
Ultimately, I hope thus: that you knew you had my friendship and respect, and that you were important to me.
I pray Death keeps you safe until your next Turn, and that that life is far kinder to you than this one was.
But you were my friend. Your promises meant much to me. I am sad for your loss for many reasons, most that I cannot write here, and some that I lack the ability to express.
Ultimately, I hope thus: that you knew you had my friendship and respect, and that you were important to me.
I pray Death keeps you safe until your next Turn, and that that life is far kinder to you than this one was.
Written By Joscelin
Nov. 14, 2018, 12:06 a.m.(12/26/1009 AR)
I haven't been home since Oliver died.
I have a place to stay, I've been offered many places, in homes, families, establishments. I've written it many times and I'll do it again: the sheer generosity I've been met with has been humbling. If there's any good to come of all this, it's that I am loved and cared for.
But I've not been idle, either.
Letters. So many letters, private meetings, conversations between parties both sought after and requested. The support I've been met with in Oliver's passing has turned into something else. So many offers of help and support have been managed and shifted towards the Guild. It's been hard maintaining a certain level of energy, which has had less to do with grief and more to do with feeling exhausted all the time, something the physicians have warned me will only get worse as this baby gets bigger. But with a shift in focus, delegating those that are eager to help, the social influence of the Guild has grown, and many of my Crafters are reporting an increase in business. This heartens me, the Guild is alive and growing and doing well.
My work in the Atelier has all but stopped. My assistants continue as ever and their work is to my impossible standards, but my own hands have yet to raise a hammer or work the metals overmuch. I've managed to finish a project long due, but I won't lie: it was quite hard and the effort continues to be so. I miss working at my bench but it's hard to find my heart in it these days. I suspect my interest will return, but for now I am hesitant to take commissions. I have several projects I must finish, overdue for my grief, but I mean to finish them before the baby is born.
I have a place to stay, I've been offered many places, in homes, families, establishments. I've written it many times and I'll do it again: the sheer generosity I've been met with has been humbling. If there's any good to come of all this, it's that I am loved and cared for.
But I've not been idle, either.
Letters. So many letters, private meetings, conversations between parties both sought after and requested. The support I've been met with in Oliver's passing has turned into something else. So many offers of help and support have been managed and shifted towards the Guild. It's been hard maintaining a certain level of energy, which has had less to do with grief and more to do with feeling exhausted all the time, something the physicians have warned me will only get worse as this baby gets bigger. But with a shift in focus, delegating those that are eager to help, the social influence of the Guild has grown, and many of my Crafters are reporting an increase in business. This heartens me, the Guild is alive and growing and doing well.
My work in the Atelier has all but stopped. My assistants continue as ever and their work is to my impossible standards, but my own hands have yet to raise a hammer or work the metals overmuch. I've managed to finish a project long due, but I won't lie: it was quite hard and the effort continues to be so. I miss working at my bench but it's hard to find my heart in it these days. I suspect my interest will return, but for now I am hesitant to take commissions. I have several projects I must finish, overdue for my grief, but I mean to finish them before the baby is born.
Written By Cambria
Nov. 13, 2018, 10:26 p.m.(12/26/1009 AR)
Of course, every age comes to an end, but then, every age is replaced by something else that seeks to nurture the seeds growing out of the ashes of what has passed.
Written By Lucita
Nov. 13, 2018, 10:05 p.m.(12/26/1009 AR)
Children grow so fast. 'Nu Soos' and nearly falling down while trying to show them off, and trying to keep them from hugging chickies too hard which would be fatal to them, and convincing them that people are riding horses and not 'big doggies' add smiles to what otherwise would be a glum day. Chickies, yes, the tower was infested with fifty of them in various shapes and sizes, all with the assorted stray feathers, eggs, and assorted mess. They apparently were a 'gift' to Lord Karadoc but thankfully now all have a home on a farm, at least most of them do though many people will be having chicken dinners for a while.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.