Written By Darrow
May 7, 2017, 8:31 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
I felt energized, in a rush. Alive.
The press of the Shav's, each one's face and blood blurring into the next.
The Bringer - a battered mess, and the marines, like a storm of death.
Pity that the siege ended.
The press of the Shav's, each one's face and blood blurring into the next.
The Bringer - a battered mess, and the marines, like a storm of death.
Pity that the siege ended.
Written By Leta
May 7, 2017, 8:18 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Aureth
This is a song I am working on.
Brand was a sad moping sort,
All a-whinin' back and forth,
'Cause he'd lost his pretty dollie.
All 'cause someone stole his toy,
And took away poor Brand's joy:
"If I'm not, then no one's jolly."
So then Silence came along,
But to their awf'ly quiet song,
We replied with one more hearty.
And with bones singing like flutes,
Toes a-rattlin' in their boots,
All the dead showed up to the party.
'Cause the Queen rose up a throng,
For she rather likes a song,
With an end and a beginning.
And though some of them did smell,
The dead could fight rather well,
And keep Brand's poor slaves from winning.
Brother Aureth, he did lead them,
Though he risked a hardy beatin',
To make folk's hopes not so gray.
And though Brands slaves were many,
We did kick them in the fanny,
And we held our ground that day.
I ought to add some rhymes for other folk that were there, which were plenty, and some lived and some died. And maybe I'll add some lines to say how it ended with the paladins and the gods and all but I don't rightly know what happened there, so this is just a song about what I saw at the graveyard with my own two eyes that the dirt shall have one day.
There was dead folk fighting to my left and to my right, and that's a sight to see and it shows the gods work in funny ways.
Brand was a sad moping sort,
All a-whinin' back and forth,
'Cause he'd lost his pretty dollie.
All 'cause someone stole his toy,
And took away poor Brand's joy:
"If I'm not, then no one's jolly."
So then Silence came along,
But to their awf'ly quiet song,
We replied with one more hearty.
And with bones singing like flutes,
Toes a-rattlin' in their boots,
All the dead showed up to the party.
'Cause the Queen rose up a throng,
For she rather likes a song,
With an end and a beginning.
And though some of them did smell,
The dead could fight rather well,
And keep Brand's poor slaves from winning.
Brother Aureth, he did lead them,
Though he risked a hardy beatin',
To make folk's hopes not so gray.
And though Brands slaves were many,
We did kick them in the fanny,
And we held our ground that day.
I ought to add some rhymes for other folk that were there, which were plenty, and some lived and some died. And maybe I'll add some lines to say how it ended with the paladins and the gods and all but I don't rightly know what happened there, so this is just a song about what I saw at the graveyard with my own two eyes that the dirt shall have one day.
There was dead folk fighting to my left and to my right, and that's a sight to see and it shows the gods work in funny ways.
Written By Luca
May 7, 2017, 8:17 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
The battle was glorious even if I barely touched any Bringers amidst the shav hordes. I almost got hit at one point even! And I suppose its good we were able to help hold the Redrain and Thrax positions too. And its always wonderful to see Ribbons in action. More so now that she's my wife. The after battle traditions we're forming make even my lack of new skulls for my collection totally worth it.
Written By Saira
May 7, 2017, 8:09 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
Dear Garrion,
I sit here in my chamber, with the morning sun on my face and hair, a pot of tea at my elbow and a warm blanket about my shoulders, and still I shiver. I feel a bone numbing cold instilled through fear. I can still hear the reverberations of battle, distant, but unmistakable, from where I hid beneath my bed.
That feeling of loss returned while I lay there, and I have begun to wonder if I have purposefully forgotten something crucial in my past. Was someone lost to me in battle? Why do I have this feeling of abandonment that insinuates itself into my heart at the moments when I feel most vulnerable. First, when I arrived, in the dead of night where all vulnerabilities are most powerful, and then again, while hiding under my bed and praying that Armel, my only real comfort here, was safe while he fought.
I wish I could say what happened. I wish I could say I understand all of it. I only know what I was told, and such things are not things that should be placed into a letter all can see. Suffice it to say, perhaps I had good reason to regress, to hide beneath my bed like a child as a nightmare pounded on our doors.
My favorite brother, just two years my senior, rode in from Bastion before the battle. He wanted to see how I was doing. I cannot even hide the truth from him; I am not doing very well. I am lonely here, and I am afraid. Now, more so than ever. What were mother and father thinking when they loosed me into the world like a bird from a nest to which it was familiar?
I am the seventh. I once believed seven to be a lucky number. I was freed from much of the responsibilities my siblings faced, and perhaps that made me unaware, too complacent in my isolated world. There is strength within me, this I know. I am a Grayson. I just wish it was a bit easier to find.
Especially now, when everything is so tenuous. How many tomorrows do we have left? How many laters? How many suns will rise before the end? Can we stave off that end, one faithful soldier at a time? Even so, at what cost? Will a victory truly be a victory if we lose too much, too many in the process?
These questions whisper through my mind, catching on the edges of my thoughts like licking flames against parchment. One moment naught but an illuminating thread, and then, before I can fathom it, my mind explodes with the queries and the fears and a desperate, helpless hope.
Helpless. That is how I feel, Garrion. Helpless. Helpless to heal, helpless to assist; I wanted so desperately to get involved when I heard what was happening, but I have no skills that could possibly come in useful on a battlefield. I cannot even bandage a wound. I would have been a liability. A hindrance, not a help, and I could not risk that. I *would *not risk that.
I am allowing my quill to run away with me. I should end this letter before it drags on even further. I wish I could send it. I wish you could receive it. I can only hope that somewhere, somehow, some way, you will get the message.
I miss you. I wish you could write back.
Love From,
Saira
I sit here in my chamber, with the morning sun on my face and hair, a pot of tea at my elbow and a warm blanket about my shoulders, and still I shiver. I feel a bone numbing cold instilled through fear. I can still hear the reverberations of battle, distant, but unmistakable, from where I hid beneath my bed.
That feeling of loss returned while I lay there, and I have begun to wonder if I have purposefully forgotten something crucial in my past. Was someone lost to me in battle? Why do I have this feeling of abandonment that insinuates itself into my heart at the moments when I feel most vulnerable. First, when I arrived, in the dead of night where all vulnerabilities are most powerful, and then again, while hiding under my bed and praying that Armel, my only real comfort here, was safe while he fought.
I wish I could say what happened. I wish I could say I understand all of it. I only know what I was told, and such things are not things that should be placed into a letter all can see. Suffice it to say, perhaps I had good reason to regress, to hide beneath my bed like a child as a nightmare pounded on our doors.
My favorite brother, just two years my senior, rode in from Bastion before the battle. He wanted to see how I was doing. I cannot even hide the truth from him; I am not doing very well. I am lonely here, and I am afraid. Now, more so than ever. What were mother and father thinking when they loosed me into the world like a bird from a nest to which it was familiar?
I am the seventh. I once believed seven to be a lucky number. I was freed from much of the responsibilities my siblings faced, and perhaps that made me unaware, too complacent in my isolated world. There is strength within me, this I know. I am a Grayson. I just wish it was a bit easier to find.
Especially now, when everything is so tenuous. How many tomorrows do we have left? How many laters? How many suns will rise before the end? Can we stave off that end, one faithful soldier at a time? Even so, at what cost? Will a victory truly be a victory if we lose too much, too many in the process?
These questions whisper through my mind, catching on the edges of my thoughts like licking flames against parchment. One moment naught but an illuminating thread, and then, before I can fathom it, my mind explodes with the queries and the fears and a desperate, helpless hope.
Helpless. That is how I feel, Garrion. Helpless. Helpless to heal, helpless to assist; I wanted so desperately to get involved when I heard what was happening, but I have no skills that could possibly come in useful on a battlefield. I cannot even bandage a wound. I would have been a liability. A hindrance, not a help, and I could not risk that. I *would *not risk that.
I am allowing my quill to run away with me. I should end this letter before it drags on even further. I wish I could send it. I wish you could receive it. I can only hope that somewhere, somehow, some way, you will get the message.
I miss you. I wish you could write back.
Love From,
Saira
Written By Yasmine
May 7, 2017, 8:06 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
Some stories have tragic endings. The sadness is written into the tale long before it ever began.
And some have happy endings only because the heroes of the tale make it so. The actions of our heroes will become stories and those stories will become legends as much as the tales of Queen Alarice have become.
I was not fit to fight at the walls and save the Compact from the forces of evil, but I can tell the stories and sing songs of those that did.
And some have happy endings only because the heroes of the tale make it so. The actions of our heroes will become stories and those stories will become legends as much as the tales of Queen Alarice have become.
I was not fit to fight at the walls and save the Compact from the forces of evil, but I can tell the stories and sing songs of those that did.
Written By Rowan
May 7, 2017, 8:05 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
Family rises out of shared experience. Sometimes that experience begins with being born of the same blood. Othertimes it is those that we find ourselves standing alongside in hard times. I find myself blessed with family of both flavors, and doubley blessed that through these recent troubles, I have had no cause grieve for any of them. Whatever lies behind, whatever lies ahead, I thank the Spirits for each of them and their continued well being.
Written By Esoka
May 7, 2017, 8:01 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
I thought it was the end of me.
The armies at the Seawatch Gate had fought strong and true. Marquessa Deepwood and Thesarin's plan with the prodigals had worked, and they came from the rear to take some of the pressure off the assault. I shall remember Tikva and the archers pouring arrows down like a rain of death from the ramparts, and fighting beside Lord Rymarr to hold the line. It was the greatest battle of my life, and I've more pride than I can put into words that I fought beside the Grayson and Lycene warriors that day.
Would we have held? In my heart, I think not.
But then it all stopped. The monsters faded into nothingness. The shavs stood on the field as if all will had been drained out of them. Many were taken prisoner, thank all gods. Perhaps some can be made whole again, out of whatever horror Brand made them into.
I learned later that the ones now called Paladins had felled Brand by their own swords. The world owes them its thanks, forevermore. They certain have mine. All honors be.
I want to celebrate, but then I think about what lies ahead. Ten thousand soldiers dead. The countless civilians. The horror that was done to the Thrax ward and the poor thralls when the walls shattered. Tikva lying in the House of the Solace, recovering from a wound I thought would end her. I wonder what state the Twainfort is in, and shudder when I think of the Gray Forest.
I think it shall be a very long time before I can think of it with any clarity.
I need a drink.
The armies at the Seawatch Gate had fought strong and true. Marquessa Deepwood and Thesarin's plan with the prodigals had worked, and they came from the rear to take some of the pressure off the assault. I shall remember Tikva and the archers pouring arrows down like a rain of death from the ramparts, and fighting beside Lord Rymarr to hold the line. It was the greatest battle of my life, and I've more pride than I can put into words that I fought beside the Grayson and Lycene warriors that day.
Would we have held? In my heart, I think not.
But then it all stopped. The monsters faded into nothingness. The shavs stood on the field as if all will had been drained out of them. Many were taken prisoner, thank all gods. Perhaps some can be made whole again, out of whatever horror Brand made them into.
I learned later that the ones now called Paladins had felled Brand by their own swords. The world owes them its thanks, forevermore. They certain have mine. All honors be.
I want to celebrate, but then I think about what lies ahead. Ten thousand soldiers dead. The countless civilians. The horror that was done to the Thrax ward and the poor thralls when the walls shattered. Tikva lying in the House of the Solace, recovering from a wound I thought would end her. I wonder what state the Twainfort is in, and shudder when I think of the Gray Forest.
I think it shall be a very long time before I can think of it with any clarity.
I need a drink.
Written By Mira
May 7, 2017, 7:40 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Gaston
A little scary, this one. Looking for help in buying land outside Arx.
Written By Rymarr
May 7, 2017, 7:39 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
There is many and much to write to and about. The longer that I consider all who I need to send letters to to verify their safety, the longer the list grows.
Written By Mira
May 7, 2017, 7:37 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Ferrando
My bratty cousin, who endlessly annoys me.
Written By Aureth
May 7, 2017, 7:27 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
We have saved Death's City.
We saved ourselves.
And we saved the Wheel.
I spoke my thanks to the dead, and I'll write them here again. The dead rose, they walked, they fought. We held. We held for as long as we had to. We fought into the long, endless night, and I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't stood with Duke Cassius, with Father Orazio, and with those scrappy little shits from the Lower Boroughs defending their homes.
And it ended. _It ended_.
Thank the Pantheon. Thank the Paladins. Thank you.
We saved ourselves.
And we saved the Wheel.
I spoke my thanks to the dead, and I'll write them here again. The dead rose, they walked, they fought. We held. We held for as long as we had to. We fought into the long, endless night, and I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't stood with Duke Cassius, with Father Orazio, and with those scrappy little shits from the Lower Boroughs defending their homes.
And it ended. _It ended_.
Thank the Pantheon. Thank the Paladins. Thank you.
Written By Freja
May 7, 2017, 7:23 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
To say I feel as though I wasted my time, well that would be selling it short words enough to fill volumes.
Written By Arcelia
May 7, 2017, 7:10 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Aiden
I met Prince Aiden during the Social Tournament that the Whispers and ArchDuke Niccolo held a while back but we did not get to talk then. We briefly danced during the Tournament but otherwise our interactions were limited that day. I sent him a letter thanking him for the dance and asked him if we could get together to meet officially in a different setting.
We had dinner and it turns out that Prince Aiden is a very sweet man with a kind heart. We had a lovely dinner with a lot of rich conversation that was far beyond small talk and I think that I enjoyed that more than the meal itself, which was fantastic also. We have made plans to enrich our blooming friendship, a friendship which I hope will become a strong and long lived one.
We had dinner and it turns out that Prince Aiden is a very sweet man with a kind heart. We had a lovely dinner with a lot of rich conversation that was far beyond small talk and I think that I enjoyed that more than the meal itself, which was fantastic also. We have made plans to enrich our blooming friendship, a friendship which I hope will become a strong and long lived one.
Written By Rowan
May 7, 2017, 6:23 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Aldwin
There's never a wasted word to be shared with the Dominus. Whether the conversation is casual and friendly - something I should try to hold with the man more often - or picking apart more weighty matters, I find I always leave his presence with something to think about.
Written By Marius
May 7, 2017, 6:23 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
Everything I could say about the battle would be superfluous. It's been said, by people more eloquent than I.
So, instead, I'll simply say that if I were any prouder of my family - of everyone who played even a small, behind-the-scenes role - and how they acquitted themselves in this battle, I would risk bursting.
Untamed and Unconquered. Especially that last one.
Stag Points all around.
So, instead, I'll simply say that if I were any prouder of my family - of everyone who played even a small, behind-the-scenes role - and how they acquitted themselves in this battle, I would risk bursting.
Untamed and Unconquered. Especially that last one.
Stag Points all around.
Written By Rowan
May 7, 2017, 6:15 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
The Mice of the house lived a simple life of plenty, but they were frequently set upon by Cat. All they had couldn't set aside the fear that Cat could show his face at any moment, and the Mice wished to be rid of him once and for all.
The Mice gathered to discuss how to do away with Cat, but none among them could think of a way that they thought good enough. After several days and nights talking about the matter in their dark holes, one very young mouse spoke up.
'I have a plan,' he said. 'It is very simple, but I know it will work. All we have to do is put a bell around Cat's neck, and we will hear him coming.'
The Mice were surprised not to have thought of the plan before, but an old mouse quieted their excitement. 'The plan is a very good plan, yes, but let me ask...Who among you will bell the Cat?'
The Mice gathered to discuss how to do away with Cat, but none among them could think of a way that they thought good enough. After several days and nights talking about the matter in their dark holes, one very young mouse spoke up.
'I have a plan,' he said. 'It is very simple, but I know it will work. All we have to do is put a bell around Cat's neck, and we will hear him coming.'
The Mice were surprised not to have thought of the plan before, but an old mouse quieted their excitement. 'The plan is a very good plan, yes, but let me ask...Who among you will bell the Cat?'
Written By Kima
May 7, 2017, 6:10 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
In time, I will write about that which I saw while fighting at the Seawatch Gate. Those that fell, those that survived, and those who are to come who might one day read this deserve as much.
But I cannot write about it today.
But I cannot write about it today.
Written By Mira
May 7, 2017, 6:04 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
Now that the Siege is over and the Silence has been silenced, people are looking to purchase lands outside the city left ownerless. Lots of surveys, lots of maps, lots of requests and writs. Busy busy busy all of a sudden.
Written By Leta
May 7, 2017, 6:03 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
I'm alive and not a scratch on either of us, none that would matter. We maybe have a scratch here and a bruise there, but nothing worth the mention.
I'm still not right sure what happened. I hear it's something the Faith did, that's got do with some paladins or whatnot. All I know is we were fighting off these Shavs and Bringers that were attacking the graveyard. There was a lot of them, though I wager we could've held out a while longer. Then they stopped, just like that, and a little while later the Bringers melted like spring snow, but it was a good bit nastier.
My arms hurt from the killing. It wears on you, to be honest, besides the aches and pains of swinging my axe about over and over. But it was either them or us, and I've killed for less. It's a shame about my hose, I wore one of my finest pairs for the occasion, but I don't reckon the blood'll wash off without ruining the dye. Same for the jacket, but the cloth there will take dye again if needed, and if needed black will do as well as blue.
I'm still not right sure what happened. I hear it's something the Faith did, that's got do with some paladins or whatnot. All I know is we were fighting off these Shavs and Bringers that were attacking the graveyard. There was a lot of them, though I wager we could've held out a while longer. Then they stopped, just like that, and a little while later the Bringers melted like spring snow, but it was a good bit nastier.
My arms hurt from the killing. It wears on you, to be honest, besides the aches and pains of swinging my axe about over and over. But it was either them or us, and I've killed for less. It's a shame about my hose, I wore one of my finest pairs for the occasion, but I don't reckon the blood'll wash off without ruining the dye. Same for the jacket, but the cloth there will take dye again if needed, and if needed black will do as well as blue.
Written By Darrow
May 7, 2017, 6 p.m.(6/4/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Edward
The young Lord Redreef, one of my cousin's vassals, acquitted himself well against the Shav forces.
He was injured, I have heard in reports, and I will offer a prayer to Lagoma for his recovery, along with Dominic, who was struck by the foul magick of Tolamar Brand.
He was injured, I have heard in reports, and I will offer a prayer to Lagoma for his recovery, along with Dominic, who was struck by the foul magick of Tolamar Brand.
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