Written By Calaudrin
May 10, 2017, 11:24 p.m.(6/10/1006 AR)
Despite serious self-doubts that I could pull off any kind of social event without something going terribly wrong (fire, riot, food poisoning, etc...), the Iron Guard's charity event went off without a hitch. We collected clothes, toys, food and other necessities as well a tidy sum of cash that we've donated to the Mercies of Lagoma.
I don't have anything eloquent to say. Except that I'm humbled by the turnout and I thank each and every person that turned up donated to our cause.
Thank you.
I don't have anything eloquent to say. Except that I'm humbled by the turnout and I thank each and every person that turned up donated to our cause.
Thank you.
Written By Juliet
May 10, 2017, 10:47 p.m.(6/10/1006 AR)
After months of siege, stepping outside the city walls was a delight.
Sanctum was interesting. The wedding ceremony was everything I expected from the Oathlands. I'm glad I had good company.
The Telmarch is an interesting place, and there are some grand vistas from the castle walls.
Sanctum was interesting. The wedding ceremony was everything I expected from the Oathlands. I'm glad I had good company.
The Telmarch is an interesting place, and there are some grand vistas from the castle walls.
Written By Merek
May 10, 2017, 10:37 p.m.(6/10/1006 AR)
I assisted with the Iron Charity a little bit. But I've just had too much on my mind with an unsolved case that no one can figure anything out about, in addition to other matters. You'd think after the siege, at least things would be a /little/ easier.
Written By Cassandra
May 10, 2017, 9:22 p.m.(6/10/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Niamh
Meeting with Niamh was quite intriguing. She showed me her Hall and told me about her hopes for her Knights, few though they are. I am fascinated with what she intends to accomplish and I hope that I can assist her from my place with the Faith. If all the Knights of the Gold Order of the Dragon are as earnest and skilled they deserve my support.
I look forward to see what comes of it.
I look forward to see what comes of it.
Written By Asher
May 10, 2017, 5:39 p.m.(6/10/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Mira
There was a merchant in the Common Square recently who was selling things stolen from corpses from the siege. Not sure if he stole them himself, or if he bought them from people who stole them. I might have gotten him arrested and he wasn't at fault... He's obviously stupid, but possibly not his fault. Also bumped into Mira Matessi, and we hit it off; might have also gotten a request for a ring to be made, later on... Lucrative!
Written By Olivia
May 10, 2017, 5:31 p.m.(6/10/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Dafne
A somewhat odd girl I met in the bath house gardens, who turned out to be a Duchess and perhaps a former relative by marriage in some confusing fashion. It seems things can change very much in a short while, with her various relations giving up the title in quick succession until she remained to take it. I felt sympathetic for her, but realized my own situation is potentially not very different: I wish my siblings good health and long careers! We talked about plants and death, and apparently she writes... romantic fiction. Overall I liked her very much, save that she has a pet cat.
Written By Sameera
May 10, 2017, 5:29 p.m.(6/10/1006 AR)
The planning phase and gathering of funds to make the 'half way house' for former thralls is done. I even have a loose idea of how the village will look and hopefully workable exports for people.
Written By Asher
May 10, 2017, 5:12 p.m.(6/10/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Magpie
I saved his life, because it was my job, and he made me part of the family. More to it than that, but still. Not a bad guy.
Written By Driskell
May 10, 2017, 3:55 p.m.(6/9/1006 AR)
I've made an isle specialty of fish for Dame Sameera that I need to deliver to her, I know she hates things that are luxurious so this simple staple from my own isle ought to show that the simple things can be exceedingly amazing too. Perhaps it will give her an idea to use the fish she has in a different way.
The main secret to this is to have the freshest white fleshed fish one can get from the fishmonger or if you're feeling more islander, fish in the morning and catch it yourself.
The second secret is one has to use the absolute sharpest knife they have and wet it in cold ocean water before each cut to prevent shredding and flaking of the flesh.
Driskell's Isle Fish Alchemy
- Two white fleshed fish, filleted and sliced.
- 6 garlic cloves, chopped quite finely.
- Three pinches of salt, preferably from evaporated Grayson tears
- Two pinches of pepper.
- Three pinches of fresh coriander, chopped coarsely
- 1 pepper chopped. I keep the seeds in but some find it too hot, hence they aren't in the kitchen.
- A dozen Saffron limes, squeeze and strain to remove the pulp.
- 1 red onion, thinly sliced like Velenosan silk.
Combine and mix all the ingredients except the onion.
Place the red onion on top and let it marinate on ice for at least 3 hours.
Before you serve, mix it well with a quick toss and lay it on a bed of lettuce with thickly sliced avocado. I also prefer to cut the top of a coconut and add Darkwater rum to the water inside to serve with this.
The main secret to this is to have the freshest white fleshed fish one can get from the fishmonger or if you're feeling more islander, fish in the morning and catch it yourself.
The second secret is one has to use the absolute sharpest knife they have and wet it in cold ocean water before each cut to prevent shredding and flaking of the flesh.
Driskell's Isle Fish Alchemy
- Two white fleshed fish, filleted and sliced.
- 6 garlic cloves, chopped quite finely.
- Three pinches of salt, preferably from evaporated Grayson tears
- Two pinches of pepper.
- Three pinches of fresh coriander, chopped coarsely
- 1 pepper chopped. I keep the seeds in but some find it too hot, hence they aren't in the kitchen.
- A dozen Saffron limes, squeeze and strain to remove the pulp.
- 1 red onion, thinly sliced like Velenosan silk.
Combine and mix all the ingredients except the onion.
Place the red onion on top and let it marinate on ice for at least 3 hours.
Before you serve, mix it well with a quick toss and lay it on a bed of lettuce with thickly sliced avocado. I also prefer to cut the top of a coconut and add Darkwater rum to the water inside to serve with this.
Written By Gisele
May 10, 2017, 3:10 p.m.(6/9/1006 AR)
These are things not recorded in the histories:
The pall which lingers after a victory, when the survivors look at what they've fought for and see the wounds left by those battles; it hangs even in summer sunlight like motes of dust, inescapable. The ghost of smells clinging to hair and clothing of smoke, of rot, of blood and viscera spilled. The memory of how a blade driven into another body sends a shock up the arm. It's a jolt which prints on the bone and leaves the muscles tender, the palm stinging; like a phantom limb, that feeling returns in dreams and quiet moments. The look in the eyes of those who've lived, even when they're smiling. The places we go in our minds, pushed there by grief and the need to heal.
The sound of a city holding its breath and waiting, praying, for the next second, the next heartbeat, the next blink, against a chorus of fire and falling stone.
The pall which lingers after a victory, when the survivors look at what they've fought for and see the wounds left by those battles; it hangs even in summer sunlight like motes of dust, inescapable. The ghost of smells clinging to hair and clothing of smoke, of rot, of blood and viscera spilled. The memory of how a blade driven into another body sends a shock up the arm. It's a jolt which prints on the bone and leaves the muscles tender, the palm stinging; like a phantom limb, that feeling returns in dreams and quiet moments. The look in the eyes of those who've lived, even when they're smiling. The places we go in our minds, pushed there by grief and the need to heal.
The sound of a city holding its breath and waiting, praying, for the next second, the next heartbeat, the next blink, against a chorus of fire and falling stone.
Written By Serafine
May 10, 2017, 1:41 p.m.(6/9/1006 AR)
Less words, more actions. Put your silver where your mouth is.
Written By Carita
May 10, 2017, 12:36 p.m.(6/9/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Mirari
Impeccable. If her sister Mailys is the bubbling spring, the frolicking brook - Mirari is the river. Deep. Sometimes tranquil. Sometimes, the current will pull you under. I'm not sure how to detail on why I feel that way. I simply do. If you meet her yourself, you might notice the same.
Written By Carita
May 10, 2017, 12:32 p.m.(6/9/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Sasha
Edward's enabled me, your Highness, so this should serve to be your warning. We will be friends. Even if we are wildly opposite of one another.
Written By Carita
May 10, 2017, 12:31 p.m.(6/9/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Max
The Marines told me what you did with my brothers. I didn't understand the honor of the gesture until I pressed for explanation. I'll remember that.
Written By Carita
May 10, 2017, 12:29 p.m.(6/9/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Ford
He called me contemptuous in our only conversation. I batted a glass off a table like a cross cat that's had its tail stepped on. Silly temper of mine. I feel as though I ought to apologize, but, words are fantastically useless when not used with sincerity. Instead, a token of apology, I think. Soon. It has to be perfect.
Written By Carita
May 10, 2017, 12:27 p.m.(6/9/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Titania
She seems as though she's a book that's being read while it's being written - a kind of work in progress. So much potential. She's quite the opposite of her cousin, as well, but that's a good thing. A House needs all kinds of different personalities in order to function. I look forward to making friends with her.
Written By Carita
May 10, 2017, 12:24 p.m.(6/9/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Octavia
Voice of Kennex, Chief Magistrate. She seems very stern, very unyielding, and the sort of company that Lord Darrow might keep. That said, I have seen a side that is - well, it's not soft - but. It's emotive. Only I'm not certain what to label it. I've seen it. Read it. Care, perhaps is what I'm trying to say. Care and respect for the human condition. For the innocent.
Written By Fortunato
May 10, 2017, 11:36 a.m.(6/9/1006 AR)
Sometimes, to accept change means to stop trying so hard to change.
Written By Juliet
May 10, 2017, 8:51 a.m.(6/9/1006 AR)
I've taken my time writing this journal. I've thought a lot of the events of the siege.
My life has taken bizarre turns. I sometimes look back at the young woman who arrived in Arx, and wonder if there were any signs she could have spotted, that would have indicated where her life would lead.
I recall reading a journal, a scant day or so after the siege had broken. Lamenting the loss of the nameless ones. The ones who won't be remembered. It stayed with me.
I have been called hero. I have been asked how it feels to know there will be songs about me that will go down centuries.
Unfair. That is how it feels. What did I do that they didn't? The ones who didn't live, the ones whose names we've already lost, and the ones who will be lost in a lifetime.
I confided in someone very close to me, and he told me this is no different from any other battles. That every war will have its heroes, and that those heroes are there to represent the others. That they become symbols. An inspiration, to fight again, when it is necessary.
With that in mind, I will offer my own account of the Battle with Tolamar Brand.
In the aftermath, we learned that Tolamar Brand entered the city by shattering the walls of the Thrax ward, and slipping away in the confusion. When we next saw him, he was followed by a small group of Abandoned and others, keeping a distance, and slipping away to cause havoc elsewhere. We put our thrust in the defenses of the city, and focused instead on the man.
His mere presence was that of the eye of a storm, a storm that served to rip and tear apart buildings and cobblestone, that splintered wood and shattered stone. But the gods, as Lord Killian wrote, held their hands over us.
It is a curious thing, to realise who you are. And all that makes you, you.
It is devastating to face who you are and stop. A soul-searing agony of existence as pain, of every memory another sharp cut that tears at your soul.
I expect, then, that this was how he would defeat us - to have us accept his gospel and surrender ourself to oblivion, having listened to his lies.
Unfortunately, my flight through my own mind brought me to a sanctum. A place full of depictions of myself, and of mirrors, and everywhere I saw my eyes, I saw baleful judgement.
It is a common truth that we can be our own harshest critics - that knowing ourselves and our work intimately, we will find flaws that others do not think to look at.
It is a devotion of the Mirrormasks to gaze into the mirror, and study ourselves inflinchingly. To pick at every weakness, as we decide who we wish to be.
I heard my reflection speak to me before. And it told me I would doom the world. And I ignored it and I pressed on.
Now, I was trapped, in a room full of my reflections, all glaring at me, all so sure of my failure.
So I ignored them, and I pressed on.
Like Lord Killian, I awoke to cacophony - from one nightmare to another. Words grow weak trying to describe what we saw, but we had each other, and we had a solid floor beneath us, and we had an enemy before us. I made sure everyone was stirring, was at the ready. We all did, we all helped each other.
I had a reputation in Tor for a wicked tongue. That I could leave as cut a nasty as any master duellist would, using only my words. I expect it is an exaggeration, but I did try. I berated the Herald of Unmaking. I called out his foolishness in driving me to the core of my being, expecting anything other than enemies that had grown stronger with what he did. I intended to anger him, unbalance him, and Lord Killian is right that I was the first to run towards him, that I was the first to raise my sword, though Mirror's Edge was never intended to strike at Tolamar Brand.
It is a mirrored blade. And by feinting, I managed to catch the light of one of the lamps that had survived. I managed to reflect it into the creature's eyes. I angered him, and I blinded him, and I left him open for a strike from the Paladin of Freedom. To an arrow from the Paladin of Groves. To further strikes from the Paladin of Swords and the Paladin of Ideals.
I struck at him later, demanding his attention again, as he was constantly shifting. I'm not sure if he was moving or changing. But I saw the things he did to my fellows, and I got his attention, and he grabbed me. I felt ribs crack and my arms burn as his claws of bone and wood and other things dug into them. I imagine if he'd been left to it, he would have torn me apart.
He was not left to it.
Lord Killian described well how the Paladin of Freedom grabbed hold of him, and his was a sight that I was not granted, so I cannot tell if there was divine providence in what was done. I can tell you that to the last, the creature was fighting, was lashing out, even as the Paladin of Swords cut his head off.
We had heard reports that bringers often spread their blight in a virulent and explosive fashion when they die. So it was with Tolamar Brand; his very form, utterly inhuman, was bubbling and expanding. Was turning into something else, and I knew that only I could stop it from tainting the Hall of Heroes further. So I called on the power of Reflection, that had been granted me, and I turned that virulent unmaking inwards. I shielded my fellows and the hall, and I am glad to say that I was successful. I felt Lord Killian do -something-, but I did not know what, until later. Like he wrote, perhaps that was when the others bound to Tolamar Brand and joining him in his abyssal service, all collapsed in on themselves quite literally.
I was exhausted. I think we all were. And then we watched the Paladin of Groves work her miracle, and undo some of the destruction Brand had caused.
And I knew, truly, that we had won, and that Brand would be defeated utterly. Not just in battle, not just his army, but that we would be able to form new beginnings from the end he had thought to bring upon us.
So if I am to be an inspiration, consider this: As long as there is life, there is hope. Nothing is fated, no end without a new beginning. And some will give their lives so that others may live and thrive. I know I will spend my life remembering and celebrating the people who fought, and those who died on the walls and in the Buroughs and Wards of Arx. The ones who held back the tide so that the five got their shot. The ones who saved us.
Respectfully,
Lady Juliet Fidante, Paladin of Reflection.
My life has taken bizarre turns. I sometimes look back at the young woman who arrived in Arx, and wonder if there were any signs she could have spotted, that would have indicated where her life would lead.
I recall reading a journal, a scant day or so after the siege had broken. Lamenting the loss of the nameless ones. The ones who won't be remembered. It stayed with me.
I have been called hero. I have been asked how it feels to know there will be songs about me that will go down centuries.
Unfair. That is how it feels. What did I do that they didn't? The ones who didn't live, the ones whose names we've already lost, and the ones who will be lost in a lifetime.
I confided in someone very close to me, and he told me this is no different from any other battles. That every war will have its heroes, and that those heroes are there to represent the others. That they become symbols. An inspiration, to fight again, when it is necessary.
With that in mind, I will offer my own account of the Battle with Tolamar Brand.
In the aftermath, we learned that Tolamar Brand entered the city by shattering the walls of the Thrax ward, and slipping away in the confusion. When we next saw him, he was followed by a small group of Abandoned and others, keeping a distance, and slipping away to cause havoc elsewhere. We put our thrust in the defenses of the city, and focused instead on the man.
His mere presence was that of the eye of a storm, a storm that served to rip and tear apart buildings and cobblestone, that splintered wood and shattered stone. But the gods, as Lord Killian wrote, held their hands over us.
It is a curious thing, to realise who you are. And all that makes you, you.
It is devastating to face who you are and stop. A soul-searing agony of existence as pain, of every memory another sharp cut that tears at your soul.
I expect, then, that this was how he would defeat us - to have us accept his gospel and surrender ourself to oblivion, having listened to his lies.
Unfortunately, my flight through my own mind brought me to a sanctum. A place full of depictions of myself, and of mirrors, and everywhere I saw my eyes, I saw baleful judgement.
It is a common truth that we can be our own harshest critics - that knowing ourselves and our work intimately, we will find flaws that others do not think to look at.
It is a devotion of the Mirrormasks to gaze into the mirror, and study ourselves inflinchingly. To pick at every weakness, as we decide who we wish to be.
I heard my reflection speak to me before. And it told me I would doom the world. And I ignored it and I pressed on.
Now, I was trapped, in a room full of my reflections, all glaring at me, all so sure of my failure.
So I ignored them, and I pressed on.
Like Lord Killian, I awoke to cacophony - from one nightmare to another. Words grow weak trying to describe what we saw, but we had each other, and we had a solid floor beneath us, and we had an enemy before us. I made sure everyone was stirring, was at the ready. We all did, we all helped each other.
I had a reputation in Tor for a wicked tongue. That I could leave as cut a nasty as any master duellist would, using only my words. I expect it is an exaggeration, but I did try. I berated the Herald of Unmaking. I called out his foolishness in driving me to the core of my being, expecting anything other than enemies that had grown stronger with what he did. I intended to anger him, unbalance him, and Lord Killian is right that I was the first to run towards him, that I was the first to raise my sword, though Mirror's Edge was never intended to strike at Tolamar Brand.
It is a mirrored blade. And by feinting, I managed to catch the light of one of the lamps that had survived. I managed to reflect it into the creature's eyes. I angered him, and I blinded him, and I left him open for a strike from the Paladin of Freedom. To an arrow from the Paladin of Groves. To further strikes from the Paladin of Swords and the Paladin of Ideals.
I struck at him later, demanding his attention again, as he was constantly shifting. I'm not sure if he was moving or changing. But I saw the things he did to my fellows, and I got his attention, and he grabbed me. I felt ribs crack and my arms burn as his claws of bone and wood and other things dug into them. I imagine if he'd been left to it, he would have torn me apart.
He was not left to it.
Lord Killian described well how the Paladin of Freedom grabbed hold of him, and his was a sight that I was not granted, so I cannot tell if there was divine providence in what was done. I can tell you that to the last, the creature was fighting, was lashing out, even as the Paladin of Swords cut his head off.
We had heard reports that bringers often spread their blight in a virulent and explosive fashion when they die. So it was with Tolamar Brand; his very form, utterly inhuman, was bubbling and expanding. Was turning into something else, and I knew that only I could stop it from tainting the Hall of Heroes further. So I called on the power of Reflection, that had been granted me, and I turned that virulent unmaking inwards. I shielded my fellows and the hall, and I am glad to say that I was successful. I felt Lord Killian do -something-, but I did not know what, until later. Like he wrote, perhaps that was when the others bound to Tolamar Brand and joining him in his abyssal service, all collapsed in on themselves quite literally.
I was exhausted. I think we all were. And then we watched the Paladin of Groves work her miracle, and undo some of the destruction Brand had caused.
And I knew, truly, that we had won, and that Brand would be defeated utterly. Not just in battle, not just his army, but that we would be able to form new beginnings from the end he had thought to bring upon us.
So if I am to be an inspiration, consider this: As long as there is life, there is hope. Nothing is fated, no end without a new beginning. And some will give their lives so that others may live and thrive. I know I will spend my life remembering and celebrating the people who fought, and those who died on the walls and in the Buroughs and Wards of Arx. The ones who held back the tide so that the five got their shot. The ones who saved us.
Respectfully,
Lady Juliet Fidante, Paladin of Reflection.
Written By Magpie
May 10, 2017, 8:12 a.m.(6/9/1006 AR)
The perk of getting all smashed up by a Bringer? You can sit back and watch everyone else work to clean up the mess after the battle and no one bats an eye.
Don't worry, my friends, I sip this cider in solidarity. Honest. I wish I could help. Breaks my heart to be laid up. So sad. I'm crying on the inside.
In other news. Got the pawn shop open. Decided on the name Highway Robbery.
Now I just have to think of a witty way to advertise it.
Don't worry, my friends, I sip this cider in solidarity. Honest. I wish I could help. Breaks my heart to be laid up. So sad. I'm crying on the inside.
In other news. Got the pawn shop open. Decided on the name Highway Robbery.
Now I just have to think of a witty way to advertise it.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.