Written By Thesarin
Dec. 21, 2017, 7:28 p.m.(10/24/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Samantha
A long while back, at a friend's grave, Eshkorin Greenblood told me a good chief can't spend time dwelling on things happened and can't be changed, and a good chief can't help dwelling.
When I asked him how that worked, he laughed and asked me to share the trick if I worked it out.
Some twenty winters since, I'd ask the same of you.
When I asked him how that worked, he laughed and asked me to share the trick if I worked it out.
Some twenty winters since, I'd ask the same of you.
Written By Sophie
Dec. 21, 2017, 5:54 p.m.(10/24/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Eirene
Ah, my dear Eirene has paid me quite the compliment in saying she wants none other than myself to see her purified and stitched up should she be carved and infected by agents of the Abyss.
In truth, though, she is stubborn enough to attempt doing it herself, and I suspect she'd be a fair hand at it, too.
Unless she were unconscious. Even then, on some level, I'm sure that she'd nonetheless try.
May we never have to find out.
In truth, though, she is stubborn enough to attempt doing it herself, and I suspect she'd be a fair hand at it, too.
Unless she were unconscious. Even then, on some level, I'm sure that she'd nonetheless try.
May we never have to find out.
Written By Sorrel
Dec. 21, 2017, 5:13 p.m.(10/24/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Lucita
I am very glad that I have met Lady Lucita. She has proven to be a most useful friend in getting about town and meeting new people. In fact, she's kindly introduced me to other people who love music, and that really is a delight. I hope that her betrothed is kind enough to provide her with the music room she desires. She certainly deserves it. Hopefully, we'll have the opportunity to have a musically themed party soon.
Written By Eirene
Dec. 21, 2017, 4:35 p.m.(10/24/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Marian
Just got her out of surgery. Won't print an untruth here, she may still die. But there's a stronger fucking chance she'll live now. No offense to my dear Mercy friends, but when it comes to trauma surgery with an abyssal taint thrown in, I'm probably the number one person in Arx you want standing over you with a knife and a readiness to keep your blood on the inside.
Not that I'm bragging. Just fucking true.
Only person I want standing over me with a knife if I'm wounded and infected is Sophie, for the record.
Now don't die, you bitch. I'll look like an asshole if you die.
Aksel - well. I couldn't do much for him at the moment. Maybe we'll see how he progresses under observation. If he stabilizes more I might be able to help.
Not that I'm bragging. Just fucking true.
Only person I want standing over me with a knife if I'm wounded and infected is Sophie, for the record.
Now don't die, you bitch. I'll look like an asshole if you die.
Aksel - well. I couldn't do much for him at the moment. Maybe we'll see how he progresses under observation. If he stabilizes more I might be able to help.
Written By Costas
Dec. 21, 2017, 4:28 p.m.(10/24/1007 AR)
In the wake of so many meditations upon death I find myself consumed by reverie of the lost.
Hold firm your grip to those beloved around you. Make forgiveness, compromise, and love your sacraments. End quarrels quickly, or risk bitter last words forever casting shadows over the greatest of your memories.
Hold firm your grip to those beloved around you. Make forgiveness, compromise, and love your sacraments. End quarrels quickly, or risk bitter last words forever casting shadows over the greatest of your memories.
Written By Shard
Dec. 21, 2017, 3:57 p.m.(10/24/1007 AR)
In my tribe, ravens were seen as guides and messengers, although not at all the sort that were above tricking or harassing you if they were in the mood. I've seen them rob eagles of their kills. They regularly lead wolf packs to dead animals with hides too thick for their beaks to tear through. They're damned clever birds. They're also greedy little shits with an eye for anything that shines or sparkles, so bargains and offerings can be made without too much trouble, if you're not an idiot.
We always associated them with death and ancestor spirits, so it was disappointing to learn Death is a goddess and she actually likes spiders and bats (and terrible, terrible puns) instead. Still, since when does truth really hurt good stories?
We always associated them with death and ancestor spirits, so it was disappointing to learn Death is a goddess and she actually likes spiders and bats (and terrible, terrible puns) instead. Still, since when does truth really hurt good stories?
Written By Mae
Dec. 21, 2017, 1:50 p.m.(10/24/1007 AR)
I held two women as they wept. As they felt true sorrow over the death of a friend, a family member, a faithful protector of the Compact.
I had to leave those two behind, in their despair, to go deliver a child into this world.
That baby sure could cry. Funny how crying works like that.
We are all spun from Death's own self and put into this world. We all return to her when we leave it. And whether your soul is spun again and sent back for another turn, or whether it moves on to Elysia, we all can be confident that we will continue on. In this world, or in paradise.
Non Omnis Moriar.
I had to leave those two behind, in their despair, to go deliver a child into this world.
That baby sure could cry. Funny how crying works like that.
We are all spun from Death's own self and put into this world. We all return to her when we leave it. And whether your soul is spun again and sent back for another turn, or whether it moves on to Elysia, we all can be confident that we will continue on. In this world, or in paradise.
Non Omnis Moriar.
Written By Isidora
Dec. 21, 2017, 12:53 p.m.(10/23/1007 AR)
I have never been one of those women that smile a lot and wrap people up in hugs. It does not mean that I do not feel warmth, it just is not my way to do things. Sometimes I envy the closeness that seems to be cultivated by that contact. The way that other women reach out to each other and wrap their arms through each others. Or how people embrace when the other enters; greeting each other the way a favored pet sees it's master. I am not untouched by it, but I am removed from it. I fear that my smiles are much rarer and a touch of my hand (even as light and swift as it will be) may be that same type of hug to state my meaning. I am a Valardin. I do not mind being thought of cold or that people look at me with pity when I speak that I should wish to do my duty and not cloud such things with fleeting affections. Perhaps in time this will change, but I think it is just who I am. I am not upset by this nor do I desire the change. Sometimes though, I envy another's ease to make friends because they are this type of person. Although, I am happy with my books and my medical knowledge.
Written By Carita
Dec. 21, 2017, 12:52 p.m.(10/23/1007 AR)
Even the idea of locking someone away like that is abominable. To keep a life locked away is prison rather than keeping the world out.
Strange, that I am thinking about it...
Strange, that I am thinking about it...
Written By Aureth
Dec. 21, 2017, 12:35 p.m.(10/23/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Thesarin
That implies that there would be any distinguishable difference between the contents of his hands.
Written By Thesarin
Dec. 21, 2017, 12:09 p.m.(10/23/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Halsim
Cup a hand in front of your lips, and start talking of all the things should have been otherwise but weren't.
Take the other hand, pull down your trousers, cup it beneath your arse, and start filling that one as well.
Tell me which one has something to show for it when you're finished.
Take the other hand, pull down your trousers, cup it beneath your arse, and start filling that one as well.
Tell me which one has something to show for it when you're finished.
Written By Samantha
Dec. 21, 2017, 10:20 a.m.(10/23/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Zhayla
I've already given a recount of Zhayla's history in brief.
After being accepted into my service, Zhayla was overwhelmed by the idea of having a bedroom of her very own, and the means to furnish it. She'd never had so much before to call her own. She kept asking me if I was sure I wanted to give it to her.
Day after day, I would read journals of some of Arx's greatest warriors, speaking praise for Zhayla's prowess, and my heart would swell with pride. Often she would journal of how proud she was to serve Deepwood, and my heart would swell...but with gratefulness, that she chose us. That she chose me.
I look at Nara, and realize now that neither she, nor any of the children I may yet have, will truly know Zhayla. They will never learn to wield a sword under her tutelage, or take rides on Dumpling with the reigns in her hand. They will only know her as a great hero of the March, and their mother's friend and Sword of the House.
I know there are some who think that I should have ordered her away. Deep into the heart of the March, away from the edges of the water, and put her under lock and key to keep her safe. To these people, I say this: you did not know Zhayla as you think you do, if this is what you think she would accept. You see, I was prepared to do this very thing. I even wanted to. But I gave Zhayla a choice, because for too long Zhayla didn't have any. We are both disciples of Skald, and not only is that choice paramount, but the reason Zhayla chose to remain rather than hide was because she knew that evil could not be allowed to perpetuate. Had I taken that choice from her, I do not know that I would be truly be the liege she swore herself to. And I would have no right to call myself a Disciple of Skald.
It pleases me to know she touched so many lives. I have received many messages of condolence and read many expressions of sadness at her death and celebration of her life. There are many who regard her as family, and it gladdens my heart to know that she was cared for so deeply. At her burial, I do intend to mourn her death, but I also plan to celebrate her life, because there's no reason why one cannot do both. To be told you should not mourn is to deny what is natural, and to celebrate is to remember in the best of ways.
It is a custom in some parts of the March to plant a tree in honor of the dead. I intend to do so for Dame Zhayla of Old Oak.
After being accepted into my service, Zhayla was overwhelmed by the idea of having a bedroom of her very own, and the means to furnish it. She'd never had so much before to call her own. She kept asking me if I was sure I wanted to give it to her.
Day after day, I would read journals of some of Arx's greatest warriors, speaking praise for Zhayla's prowess, and my heart would swell with pride. Often she would journal of how proud she was to serve Deepwood, and my heart would swell...but with gratefulness, that she chose us. That she chose me.
I look at Nara, and realize now that neither she, nor any of the children I may yet have, will truly know Zhayla. They will never learn to wield a sword under her tutelage, or take rides on Dumpling with the reigns in her hand. They will only know her as a great hero of the March, and their mother's friend and Sword of the House.
I know there are some who think that I should have ordered her away. Deep into the heart of the March, away from the edges of the water, and put her under lock and key to keep her safe. To these people, I say this: you did not know Zhayla as you think you do, if this is what you think she would accept. You see, I was prepared to do this very thing. I even wanted to. But I gave Zhayla a choice, because for too long Zhayla didn't have any. We are both disciples of Skald, and not only is that choice paramount, but the reason Zhayla chose to remain rather than hide was because she knew that evil could not be allowed to perpetuate. Had I taken that choice from her, I do not know that I would be truly be the liege she swore herself to. And I would have no right to call myself a Disciple of Skald.
It pleases me to know she touched so many lives. I have received many messages of condolence and read many expressions of sadness at her death and celebration of her life. There are many who regard her as family, and it gladdens my heart to know that she was cared for so deeply. At her burial, I do intend to mourn her death, but I also plan to celebrate her life, because there's no reason why one cannot do both. To be told you should not mourn is to deny what is natural, and to celebrate is to remember in the best of ways.
It is a custom in some parts of the March to plant a tree in honor of the dead. I intend to do so for Dame Zhayla of Old Oak.
Written By Shard
Dec. 21, 2017, 5:04 a.m.(10/23/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Aislin
The short answer is yes.
But if the short answer would do, you wouldn't still be asking the question. So a slightly longer, colder answer: even if it wasn't, even if they were real, which they weren't, but let's pretend, for a minute, let's believe the lie for just a minute, and say there were really children through that door. Laughing, happy, living children inside an old mound in the middle of the forest, on the other side of a door that opened on its own, with a voice that tempted and taunted and then tried to force us through. There was no bringing those children out without going inside, and there was no getting out once we stepped in ourselves. There was no saving them. They were dead already even if they were real.
Which they weren't. Because it was still a fucking lie. You did right.
But if the short answer would do, you wouldn't still be asking the question. So a slightly longer, colder answer: even if it wasn't, even if they were real, which they weren't, but let's pretend, for a minute, let's believe the lie for just a minute, and say there were really children through that door. Laughing, happy, living children inside an old mound in the middle of the forest, on the other side of a door that opened on its own, with a voice that tempted and taunted and then tried to force us through. There was no bringing those children out without going inside, and there was no getting out once we stepped in ourselves. There was no saving them. They were dead already even if they were real.
Which they weren't. Because it was still a fucking lie. You did right.
Written By Reese
Dec. 21, 2017, 3:46 a.m.(10/23/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Zhayla
Dame Zhayla will be greatly missed. She was small and filled with so much power. Probably still is. There was a calm about her too and she was centered. She had a deep confidence in herself and her abilities. She never needed to proved herself.
She came with me on many battles, always fighting with great skill, great focus, a sense of purpose and without a need for personal glory. She was the kind of woman you want by your side in a battle. She fought beside me against the giant we fought outside Compact during the siege and she fought besides during the siege. She killed many bringers and helped to defend Compact.
My words are falling short. They don't quite capture.
Her death will be avenged.
Reese
She came with me on many battles, always fighting with great skill, great focus, a sense of purpose and without a need for personal glory. She was the kind of woman you want by your side in a battle. She fought beside me against the giant we fought outside Compact during the siege and she fought besides during the siege. She killed many bringers and helped to defend Compact.
My words are falling short. They don't quite capture.
Her death will be avenged.
Reese
Written By Audric
Dec. 21, 2017, 2:48 a.m.(10/23/1007 AR)
Death is one of those things many people don't really think about until it's too late. It's something sellswords never stop thinking about. Our job, fairly often, is to die so the bannermen can live. Avoiding that fate is a big part of why I'm the Few's Captain-General. I'm very good at it. Anyway. I've lost many, many, many friends, and at this point, even the woman that I loved beyond anything else. But we don't mourn. We live by the blade, by the clash of steel. When we die, our friends celebrate our lives and cast our ashes to the wind, then go and do whatever the fuck they think we'd like the most. Don't mourn your dead. The Wheel turns, and we all meet the Queen in the end. Celebrate the life that was lived.
When I die messily, eventually, if any of you fuckers are all sappy, I will come back and haunt you. Throw a fucking party and champion their causes, instead of mourning.
When I die messily, eventually, if any of you fuckers are all sappy, I will come back and haunt you. Throw a fucking party and champion their causes, instead of mourning.
Written By Audric
Dec. 21, 2017, 2:44 a.m.(10/23/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Zhayla
Get well soon!
Written By Daemon
Dec. 21, 2017, 1:52 a.m.(10/23/1007 AR)
Though I did not know our departed, the mourning and grief that hangs over this city has stabbed deeply. I wish all the best for those who are affected by this tragic waste of who I can only believe to be an incredible being.
Written By Sebastian
Dec. 21, 2017, 12:49 a.m.(10/22/1007 AR)
I have been reluctant to show my pieces to the general public; not for any particular reason, only that they have always been a private thing, created because I am moved to create them. But as Voice, it is time that I get out and begin taking part in more, doing more, both for the House and in general. I want to share some of what I have created with those who are interested in seeing it. People seemed to enjoy it, and I think I will host more gatherings in the future. I have a murder to find homes for. There are a few that I will gift to those who couldn't make it. The rest may be donated, unless anyone desires a raven figurine.
Written By Fortunato
Dec. 21, 2017, 12:10 a.m.(10/22/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Zhayla
Wanna talk about stories.
Lots of folk I know, love, even, but don't know well enough. Distant sort of fellow, me, knew Zhayla as a wild, brave heart who burned with love and ferocity, who would've given her life for a stranger or a friend, who would fly fast to the aid and hope of anyone with a little light in them.
I liked her very much, and she is gone, but not gone. The Wheel waits. But also, the story.
Tendency, once you know you're in danger, or might be in danger, to hole up, to crawl into the dark so the dark might not see you. But Zhayla didn't have the least doubt in her heart of what she wanted. Sword and hero, at once defiant and open-hearted. She made her story.
I wish it might've been longer. You always want the last battle to be--
I wish I knew how to--
Lots of folk I know, love, even, but don't know well enough. Distant sort of fellow, me, knew Zhayla as a wild, brave heart who burned with love and ferocity, who would've given her life for a stranger or a friend, who would fly fast to the aid and hope of anyone with a little light in them.
I liked her very much, and she is gone, but not gone. The Wheel waits. But also, the story.
Tendency, once you know you're in danger, or might be in danger, to hole up, to crawl into the dark so the dark might not see you. But Zhayla didn't have the least doubt in her heart of what she wanted. Sword and hero, at once defiant and open-hearted. She made her story.
I wish it might've been longer. You always want the last battle to be--
I wish I knew how to--
Written By Rymarr
Dec. 21, 2017, midnight(10/22/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Zhayla
There are many in the Compact that march into battle. I am realist enough to know that some will not return. Some will return, only not to return following their next battle. The odds are stacked against those who make war and those odds only increase exponentially. Dame Zhayla was one of the few that I would regularly have very few worries about when it came to battlefields. She was always quite confident on them, adept at navigating them, and seemed in possession of an uncanny ability to simply be in the right position in the right moment. It did come as a surprise to me to learn of her demise. A hurtful surprise.
I met Dame Zhayla long ago and in truth one of the first few meetings which I had with her, I was rather blunt. I offended her with a question. Ultimately she understood the reasoning behind my question and understood that while forward, it came from a place of pure intent. From there our relationship only seemed to grow because we recognized that in one another there was a similar purpose and objective. She was always so enamored with the King's Own and I could practically see the twinkle in her eyes when she'd ask me about them. She wished to know about knighthood, not just in the form of the King's Own, but in general. She wanted to understand the Pantheon and I directed her to those I felt were best equipped to help her. I could offer her nudging in the right direction as far as faith and piety went, but I knew that I was an amateur next to others.
It was that interest that truly solidified our bond. She made a promise to me that until her death, she kept. It was an easy promise for her to keep because it was a promise that she believed in and wished to see fulfilled on her own, without my involvement. In exchange I would teach her all that I could about knighthood. Hailing from the Oathlands it has always been my belief that every knight should know how to ride, even if only so that they're prepared for a good parade. This is how I discovered that Dame Zhayla was hardly a fan of horses and, after conspiring with her liege, we sought to place her with a horse. Dumpling, a beautiful golden mare, whom would become Dame Zhayla's responsibility. With a great deal of pride I can say that you could tell she was fearful of that docile, exceptionally relaxed horse but Zhayla faced that fear head-on. She did not turn from it, she did not quake in the shadow of it. She faced it and she endured it, because that's how one overcomes a fear.
I've written enough of my personal feelings in this journal. The rest will have to go to the blacks, because that's a little too much sentiment out of me for one month.
Save for one mention. House Deepwood will be putting avenging their Sword at the forefront. Whether that is directly or indirectly, we will see to it that Dame Zhayla is properly honored, by continuing or in some cases beginning the fight, in her name.
I met Dame Zhayla long ago and in truth one of the first few meetings which I had with her, I was rather blunt. I offended her with a question. Ultimately she understood the reasoning behind my question and understood that while forward, it came from a place of pure intent. From there our relationship only seemed to grow because we recognized that in one another there was a similar purpose and objective. She was always so enamored with the King's Own and I could practically see the twinkle in her eyes when she'd ask me about them. She wished to know about knighthood, not just in the form of the King's Own, but in general. She wanted to understand the Pantheon and I directed her to those I felt were best equipped to help her. I could offer her nudging in the right direction as far as faith and piety went, but I knew that I was an amateur next to others.
It was that interest that truly solidified our bond. She made a promise to me that until her death, she kept. It was an easy promise for her to keep because it was a promise that she believed in and wished to see fulfilled on her own, without my involvement. In exchange I would teach her all that I could about knighthood. Hailing from the Oathlands it has always been my belief that every knight should know how to ride, even if only so that they're prepared for a good parade. This is how I discovered that Dame Zhayla was hardly a fan of horses and, after conspiring with her liege, we sought to place her with a horse. Dumpling, a beautiful golden mare, whom would become Dame Zhayla's responsibility. With a great deal of pride I can say that you could tell she was fearful of that docile, exceptionally relaxed horse but Zhayla faced that fear head-on. She did not turn from it, she did not quake in the shadow of it. She faced it and she endured it, because that's how one overcomes a fear.
I've written enough of my personal feelings in this journal. The rest will have to go to the blacks, because that's a little too much sentiment out of me for one month.
Save for one mention. House Deepwood will be putting avenging their Sword at the forefront. Whether that is directly or indirectly, we will see to it that Dame Zhayla is properly honored, by continuing or in some cases beginning the fight, in her name.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.