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Written By Fiachra

Jan. 7, 2017, 4:37 a.m.(8/6/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Monique

I am glad to have her here. Of all of those who bear the Greenmarch name, perhaps she is the one most like myself. We understand each other, even those things that would be difficult to articulate to others. We'll need her, just as we'll need us all, in the days to come.

Written By Fiachra

Jan. 7, 2017, 4:31 a.m.(8/6/1005 AR)

That was the first taste of an Assembly for me, and I can't say it left me impressed. Or with much confidence in the Compact, beyond perhaps Houses Valardin and Redrain. This doorway has been creeping open for a while, and letting the darkness seep into our world. This... solution... will be but a drop in the bucket at best, and lives simply wasted at worst. It was not for this that I was driven forth to seek answers to those things that I have seen.

Written By Felix

Jan. 7, 2017, 4:21 a.m.(8/6/1005 AR)

That was an interesting night. Ended with a couple tumblers of Setarco Fire, a warm bed, and the prettiest lass in Arx.

I really like my new sword.

Written By Sigurd

Jan. 7, 2017, 3:44 a.m.(8/6/1005 AR)

I know some might say this is a small matter, not worthy of committing ink to paper in the middle of such awful tragedies as have happened in recent days, but I feel the responsibility to do so.

When the uprising was happening, I, along with Blitz, went out to ensure that Nadia and the other Nightgolds outside of the Ward were safe and protected. I did this out of duty, not a desire to cause bloodshed.

But bloodshed we found. Two 'Guardsmen' looting near the Redrain gates. Some poor townsman's house, who had little to begin with. I tried to reason with them, but they were in no mood to reason, even seeing myself and Blitz armed and armored so.

If anyone knows their names, so that I might contact their families and try to assist them in these dark times, please let me know. If they had wives and especially children, they are blameless in this. Those men deserved what they received from me, but there are always those left behind. I am certain we are all becoming much too aware of this.

I still cannot say what is certain. What needed to be done versus what is being done. But in the end, it matters little. We just have to deal with the consequences and try to keep this city alive. Keep our Houses alive. Keep our /Race/ alive. What we fight for is no less than that.

Written By Joscelin

Jan. 7, 2017, 3:08 a.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

I don't have words. Nothing solid. Nothing real. Just confusion, and grief, and this fear that-

[words are scratched out]

I am more than just myself, I am the Guildmaster and I speak and represent more than just these hands and this voice.

But today I'm a little girl, crying and afraid. And angry. So angry.

You hateful bitch. I loved you. I think you loved me too. You taught me a lot about thick-skin and pushing to do better. I called you my near-mother with so much pride.

Why couldn't I have taken the time to pick a fight with you? Maybe then I'd know if you were proud of me or thought me as stupid as all the others.

And I won't know now. Rational thinking or not, all I remember is the disappointment the last time I looked into your eyes.

Written By Lianne

Jan. 7, 2017, 2:43 a.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

I thank Gild for the clear path and steady help.
I thank Petrichor for the cleansing wind and grounding.
I thank Mangata for this blessed, necessary emptiness.
I thank Lagoma for the flame, for the oil and ash.
I thank Tehom for putting that shadow back where it belongs.
I thank Vellichor for this awful knowledge.
I thank three more, unnamed.
I thank one more, left behind.

Written By Mason

Jan. 7, 2017, 2:40 a.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Lou

It has been some time since Lou left for Bastion to take a hunting trip to 'clear her head' from the combination of being Voice and from carrying our daughter. I know things had been strained during her time helping Grayson as much as she could, but I also know that life was one she was suited to. She was more akin to travelling, exploring, delving into dark depths and finding secrets await to be uncovered.

She took the post because she is nothing if not loyal to her family. A quality I find admirable. In the same token, it put a certain strain on our marriage that I wasn't quite expecting. She talked little, slept a great deal and after Safiyyah was born, seemed to want little to do with being mother. She decided at that point, that getting out of Arx was the best thing for her, and returning to Bastion for spell was the solution.

I stayed behind, to continue my own work and research and take care of Safi. For some time I found myself stretched tighter and tighter, like a sheet of cloth pulled at every end and ready to rip. And I felt, there was a moment with resignation of Dawn from the Regency that fabric was going to rip entirely. Were it not for the actions of a dear friend, I would've found myself very much alone.

And then, the next day, like a blessing, a reward from mighty Ahj'on himself, what appeared on my doorstep, holding Safiyyah as if she never left, was Lou. Refreshed, reinvigorated and ready to face things anew. I had not expected such a change in my wife, but she was different. She seemed to care more, express herself more and generally seemed to be happy. She even said these things herself. Much to my amazement, these were rarely things Lou spoke of aloud, even to me.

It is good to have her back, I will not lie, I found things to be a bit more empty while she was gone. Things were less rewarding, less fulfilling without her quiet support. And now things seem different, but perhaps better than they were previously

She wishes to speak to Aislin, to step in and help in the role she was given within the Society. For that I'm grateful. And for the first time ever, ever since coming to Arx, I have sensation that we will approach and work on our projects together, as a team. As we once did in wilds.

It's a good feeling. And it was only when I saw her face was that I realized how much I had noted just how pale life had seemed.

That all said, I will not sit here and gush and flout frilly, pretty things about my wife. I feel to do otherwise would be an insult to others reading this and I don't have any desire to make anyone roll their eyes. Or perhaps excuse themselves to throw up into the nearest potted plant.

Simply put, I have missed her and I am glad to have her returned.

Written By Ansel

Jan. 7, 2017, 2:26 a.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Joscelin

She is immensely gifted, and I believe the Princess truly loved the Guildmaster's work. It's amazing, what she did with those old pearls, turning them into something beautiful. I know the Princess may not wear them often, but I was proud to gift it to her.

I still don't know why Joscelin's guards found the matter of the necklace so funny. Am I missing something?

Written By Ansel

Jan. 7, 2017, 2:24 a.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Monique

Few have been as supportive and good to my family as she, especially in recent days. It's hard to imagine once chasing after the Minx in years past at the conclusion of one of her schemes or plots. Now she's becoming a friend, and a good one at that.

Written By Hana

Jan. 7, 2017, 2:22 a.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

( This journal entry is tearstained. )

I only knew my grandmother for a bit less than a year.

She wasn't a nice person. She had no tolerance for people she thought were idiots. She was sharp-tongued, sometimes rude, and a terrifying force of nature.

Some people hated her just because of our name, because they think anyone who bears the name 'Grayhope' is a criminal, or worse; I'm sure that Lazarus Mercier is celebrating somewhere in the city, toasting her death with laughter and a light heart.

But even if she wasn't a /nice/ person, my grandmother was a /good/ person.

She thought the world -- people, things, everything -- should be better than it usually was. She saw beauty and tried to capture it in the things she made. And she loved her family.

I'm glad she was my grandmother. I'm glad I got to know her... and that she got to know she had a granddaughter. I didn't know her long enough, and that's not fair, and I'll miss her fiercely.

I don't know what happened.

And if my father's right... if someone did this? Then they'll pay someday, even if I have to forge the knife myself that will balance the scales.

That'll be /my/ gray hope.

Written By Ansel

Jan. 7, 2017, 2:18 a.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Tristram

Ambitious, and forward-thinking. I expect to have more contact with the Prince going forward here. There are dark days ahead, and we will need more men prepared as such.

Written By Aureth

Jan. 7, 2017, 1:06 a.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

I will pay 20,000 silver for the identity of or information leading to the identity of whoever killed my mother.

If you can prove she died in her sleep like a sweet old lady, I will pay 20,000 silver to bloody Jayus.

But good luck with that, because there's no fucking way.

Written By Tristram

Jan. 7, 2017, 1:04 a.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

Last night was the Assembly. It was chaotic, difficult, and troublesome. I don't agree with the rush to judgment on the Teind and blood sacrifice but by the same token I don't condemn it entirely out of hand. It clearly has some importance to the Nox'alfar, and they clearly have valuable things to trade to fight our fight with.

I just wonder at other options. Given what I experienced with Gloria, as I told the Assembly (albeit after the vote), it is clear our Gods can help--the holy water and fire were mentioned. Many smart people have clearly done research into this, and I wonder if it is the forgetfulness of our past that leads them to cling immediately to solutions offered by mystical elves--because that knowledge is at hand, and seems real--that moves them to be so accepting of the solutions of debauched Elven nobility. I will redouble my efforts to protect all of Arvum as best I can, seeking what tools I can via the Faith and more mundane methods, and forming a fighting force if I can. Because political squabbling won't help right now.

Written By Juliet

Jan. 7, 2017, 12:54 a.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

Myrinda Grayhope had an acerbic wit. She wasn't afraid to use her tongue to lash anyone, and happy to turn her status as an old widow against anyone who'd dare speak up against her - or hint at punishment for her speaking out of turn.

As far as I know, she got away with it.

She was renowned as a seamstress - though as a true artist, she made what she wanted for you, not what you wanted.

As far as I know, she got away with it.

I didn't have that many meetings with her, but she was always kind to me. I'd say respectful, in that she offered what she was given, in that regards.

She'd just had her name added to the membership rolls of the Salon, and she promised that she would be as vicious as ever if she caught hint of stupidity in our ranks.

To be frank, I was looking forward to it.

Rest in peace, Myrinda Grayhope. Arx is lesser in your absence.

Written By Quirin

Jan. 6, 2017, 11:03 p.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

Thirteen lives to be expended in blood ritual, with no idea whether the result will be positive or negative, save the word of a party that has already struck against us on at least one occasion. It seems, well, worth the attempt, if not quite well worth the attempt. But the greater questions?

Those who are currently trying to kill you are your enemies. Those who are not currently trying to kill you are your allies. Those who would never, under any circumstances, try to kill you are your imagination.

Written By Khanne

Jan. 6, 2017, 10:30 p.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

Idleness makes me uncomfortable.

This is what I discover today. I have been so very busy as of late, finally becoming involved in things that are the very reason I am here; how to heal, to stop the taint, the evil that spreads. I have attended meetings, gone into meditations, become involved in politics, listened, observed, learned. And now, in this moment, I find quiet.... and ironically, it is strangely.... disquieting.

Worrisome how much my life has changed, I have changed since coming here. I try to cling to what made me the person I am... but in this place, it can be difficult. Where once I was surrounded by naught but wood and mountain, rarely to come across another, I am now surrounded by walls, and beyond those walls people, and more people. In the wide-open grandeur of nature, I felt as tall as a giant, enclosed in the cage of the city so often feel small. I am comfortable enough when around those I know, even in the face of strangers, proud and strong. I lived my life in solitude and was content, now, here, it brings me anxiety. Thank goodness he has gifted me with Serenity, perhaps she will help.

Not that I am any weaker or less confident than I have always been, but it is in these quiet times alone that the weight of the events taking place begins to push at me. Thoughts race through my head. What do we do? How do we do it? Will it be enough? What do we know? What can we discover? Questions and more questions and not enough answers.

But then if I let my mind wander....

I truly need to paint more. There is so much that needs to be expressed.

Written By Pietro

Jan. 6, 2017, 9:52 p.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Dawn

I did not know Dawn well.

I mean, did anyone? Maybe her closest kindred, her nearest friends, her family. I mean, I met her a few times. She was always kind to me, always warm. I made her laugh now and again. She gave me my dog, who is, of course, one of the most precious gifts I have ever received.

But Dawn?

I mean, when I saw her, I saw a woman of grace, of strength, of leadership, but how can I say I really knew her? I think there are some who glimpsed more of who she was, but I mean, I was not party to her. I was not invited.

That's all right. There's little enough of a person like that to go around, to give away of themselves.

But as Regent...? At the end...?

There is much to disagree with, in doing what she did. I stood appalled that she chose to leave her confirmed duty behind and let the high lords resort to squabbling amongst themselves and failing to make a real decision -- although how much of that I can blame on her I leave aside.

But I do not know how I could do anything but honor her for her sacrifice. How I could do anything but love her in that moment for making that choice, as a leader to her people, to die for them. For us.

I wept to see her walk away from us.

How could I not?

Written By Pietro

Jan. 6, 2017, 9:46 p.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

I have so many things that I could say, and I find I sit here at a loss. There are so many journal entries that I could begin. There are so many things to ... react to.

My brother nearly lost his life defending the Regent from a traitor who was an agent of the White Stewards. An agent of the Bringers. The Bringers who mass in the Gray Forest, restless dead who destroy all they come across and wreak a blight upon the land.

And I hear him castigated in Council for this, at the Assembly, by men who knew better, of course, because second guessing the commander in the field is always easy when the battle is already fought. I am also fascinated, by the by, that it is apparently the fault of the second or third in command, when the commander does something you don't like. I had no idea. I always thought that the general owned the victory or the defeat, but apparently it was the captain all along.

He almost gave his life to the realm and to the Crown, defending the Regent from the blade of a traitor.

I love my brother. When Duke Leo saved his life, he saved mine as well. Without him, I do not know who I would be. Well, Count of the March, I guess. But not who I should be. Not Pietro. Someone would walk on, with my face and with my history, but ... it would be someone else. Someone hollow.

It makes me sick that the reward he reaps for his long hours, his duty and blood and sweat, are the ashes of blame.

He deserves better.

Written By Cara

Jan. 6, 2017, 9:21 p.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

Receipt for: one pair of excrement brown oilskin waterproof pantaloons

These pants are basic, ordinary pants, save for the fact that they are made from thick brown oilskin. The oil rubbing makes them effectively waterproof, and their color -- a muddy hue most commonly observed in animal droppings -- is excellent for camouflaging accidental eruptions of the bowels.

A tag upon the waist reads, 'For the weak of conviction in their hour of need.'

Signature, delivered to: Prince Aurelian Valardin

Written By Darren

Jan. 6, 2017, 9 p.m.(8/5/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Dawn

We didn't agree. You knew my stance, and I knew yours. We didn't often butt heads, but you listened to me as I listened to you. You were - are - my very good friend. One of the truest I've had since we came to this City.

I respect your decision. Know this. I even understand why you didn't tell me - you knew I would've tried to talk you out of it. That I would've sought another way. That I would've told you that you don't have to carry the weight of the world upon your shoulders. I still think that, by the way.

You are a bright, good woman. You were a good Regent, one who worked tirelessly and endlessly, who faced criticism and complaint with grace. I hope that we can continue the work you began.

I will hold to the promises I made you back last summer, when we had only a sliver of knowledge of what we were up against. I wish you well, Lady Dawn.

Thank you.

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