Written By Calypso
April 8, 2017, 8:21 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
Writing this journal perched atop a skull seemed like the only proper way to write about the things I have witnessed.
The Gods are with us. I have been skeptical of their involvement all my life, leaning solely on the might of man and the sharp steel we wield. And while I will never lose my faith in mankind, my eye are opened to the beings who guide our world.
The Queen of Endings and Beginnings. The Goddess of Death. She appeared at the lantern lighting ceremony. I feel foolish writing it even now, but I have full confidence in what I saw. She appeared to us all in that field and spoke to Brother Aureth. She granted him control of the dead. I have never seen them myself but I know they count in the tens of thousands. A second army to stand with us if they feel it the right call to make. I am still in awe as I write this. All the rumors I have heard, the stories, the myths and legends, every day they become more and more true.
Consider me a skeptic no longer.
The Gods are with us. I have been skeptical of their involvement all my life, leaning solely on the might of man and the sharp steel we wield. And while I will never lose my faith in mankind, my eye are opened to the beings who guide our world.
The Queen of Endings and Beginnings. The Goddess of Death. She appeared at the lantern lighting ceremony. I feel foolish writing it even now, but I have full confidence in what I saw. She appeared to us all in that field and spoke to Brother Aureth. She granted him control of the dead. I have never seen them myself but I know they count in the tens of thousands. A second army to stand with us if they feel it the right call to make. I am still in awe as I write this. All the rumors I have heard, the stories, the myths and legends, every day they become more and more true.
Consider me a skeptic no longer.
Written By Ariel
April 8, 2017, 8:05 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
your body;
the brush
your canvas;
the floor
your music;
your heartbeat
the brush
your canvas;
the floor
your music;
your heartbeat
Written By Ariel
April 8, 2017, 8:03 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
To live life as it is unfolding
under my nose
Right now
To accept myself as I really am
in the core of my being
Right now
To let go of the need to change the way I am
and love myself flaws and all
Right now
To move to the rhythms of my true self
and allow myself to feel the tenderness within me
Right now
Life - I offer you my hand
Let's dance...
under my nose
Right now
To accept myself as I really am
in the core of my being
Right now
To let go of the need to change the way I am
and love myself flaws and all
Right now
To move to the rhythms of my true self
and allow myself to feel the tenderness within me
Right now
Life - I offer you my hand
Let's dance...
Written By Merek
April 8, 2017, 8:02 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
I have no words to share about the event that can sum it up. The Queen came and visited us, one of the Goddesses themselves. She blessed Aureth, and I could feel my soul being called for. It was... Beautiful. I am confident now, that Rose, and so many which I know, are safe in her embrace, and it is a comfort that I can't begin to voice.
Written By Ariel
April 8, 2017, 7:48 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
Dance unto the light,
Sway to the sounds of time,
Watch the angels bright,
As they dance within your mind.
Dance my friends and sway,
To beauty, to laughter, to love,
For this is the most perfect day,
A perfect gift from above!
Dance unto the light,
Catch the stars bright,
For perfect are the angels love,
From the One Most High above!
Dance, dance, dance
As the music plays on,
Dance, Dance, Dance,
As we listen to their song.
Sway to the sounds of time,
Watch the angels bright,
As they dance within your mind.
Dance my friends and sway,
To beauty, to laughter, to love,
For this is the most perfect day,
A perfect gift from above!
Dance unto the light,
Catch the stars bright,
For perfect are the angels love,
From the One Most High above!
Dance, dance, dance
As the music plays on,
Dance, Dance, Dance,
As we listen to their song.
Written By Cicero
April 8, 2017, 7:46 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
A pleasant surprise
So much work to be done still
but welcome respite
So much work to be done still
but welcome respite
Written By Cicero
April 8, 2017, 7:42 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
How much could a bringer bring if a bringer could bring what it brought?
Written By Ariel
April 8, 2017, 7:37 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Written By Cicero
April 8, 2017, 7:29 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
Crusty, salty crab
Yet also a fox, cousin.
Friendly fire boot.
Yet also a fox, cousin.
Friendly fire boot.
Written By Korka
April 8, 2017, 7:08 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
So much going on lately in the city. I apparently arrived at just the right (wrong?) time.
And yet, I swear I've been here before. Corners are familiar. Buildings feel like childhood play places.
It's so odd. It makes me want to run away - but I have nowhere to go.
The bar, though. That is always familiar, no matter what city you're in. I feel I'll try to stick around there. I have friends there, friends I don't have to worry of offending or calling by the wrong title.
If you're noble, and you come to the Murder? Don't expect bows.
And yet, I swear I've been here before. Corners are familiar. Buildings feel like childhood play places.
It's so odd. It makes me want to run away - but I have nowhere to go.
The bar, though. That is always familiar, no matter what city you're in. I feel I'll try to stick around there. I have friends there, friends I don't have to worry of offending or calling by the wrong title.
If you're noble, and you come to the Murder? Don't expect bows.
Written By Korka
April 8, 2017, 7:03 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Calaudrin
This hunk better not be married. I can't handle guilt.
Just kidding, sure I can.
Just kidding, sure I can.
Written By Rowan
April 8, 2017, 5:43 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
Hare was popular animal in the wood, and many claimed to be her friend. There came a day, however, when she was set upon by a pack of hungry wolves. She heard their howling and knew they had her scent, and so she ran to seek the help of her friends.
Hare came across Horse, and asked him to carry her from the hounds, but Horse told Hare that he had very important work to do for his master. Hare was undeterred, certain her other friends would surely help.
She ran then until she came across Boar, and asked him to fight the hounds with his great tusks. Boar told Hare that he was very sorry, but he had a very important meeting with a lady, and that perhaps their friend Hawk would help.
Starting to fret and worry, Hare ran on until she found Hawk, and asked for her aid. Hawk worried that her claws would only hurt Hare if she carried the little creaure away, and told Hare that she was not the right one to help.
More concerned, and with the howling growing closer, she ran until she found Weasel, but Weasel told her that he did not like to interfere with creatures that would eat him as readily as the Hare.
Desperate, Hare ran until she came to a fawn, who worried that he was unable to help when so many grown creatures had declined the task. He was surely not old or strong enough to help.
By now, the wolves were nearly on Hare's furry heels, and she was left with nothing but her own cleverness and speed to rely on. The wolves caught up with her, but she managed to escape into a thicket of thorns, but not without losing her tail to a snap of snarling jaws.
Hare came across Horse, and asked him to carry her from the hounds, but Horse told Hare that he had very important work to do for his master. Hare was undeterred, certain her other friends would surely help.
She ran then until she came across Boar, and asked him to fight the hounds with his great tusks. Boar told Hare that he was very sorry, but he had a very important meeting with a lady, and that perhaps their friend Hawk would help.
Starting to fret and worry, Hare ran on until she found Hawk, and asked for her aid. Hawk worried that her claws would only hurt Hare if she carried the little creaure away, and told Hare that she was not the right one to help.
More concerned, and with the howling growing closer, she ran until she found Weasel, but Weasel told her that he did not like to interfere with creatures that would eat him as readily as the Hare.
Desperate, Hare ran until she came to a fawn, who worried that he was unable to help when so many grown creatures had declined the task. He was surely not old or strong enough to help.
By now, the wolves were nearly on Hare's furry heels, and she was left with nothing but her own cleverness and speed to rely on. The wolves caught up with her, but she managed to escape into a thicket of thorns, but not without losing her tail to a snap of snarling jaws.
Written By Gisele
April 8, 2017, 5:05 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
It is said Vellichor spoke, "I am the god of histories, and this shall not be the final chapter of the history of your world. This has cost me more than I hope you shall ever learn, but I ask for but little in return. Let the most studious amongst you take sacred vow to forever guard the knowledge of the world, and allow all among you from the greatest to the least to chronicle their lives in journals so their knowledge may never be lost. Guard it well."
We don't know the price our God of Knowledge paid to share with us the secrets of demonic vulnerabilities and how they could be defeated. We do not even know now what all of those vulnerabilities might be, or all the ways to defeat them. His enemy, and ours, has made certain of that.
What we know is he felt the sacrifice to preserve our world was in all ways worth it. All he asked was that we persevere. All he asked was that we guard what we do learn, and to preserve what we know because knowledge is the greatest weapon, more so than any sword or bow could be.
What we also know is that some sacrifices are worth it. Even for a god. That is my example.
We don't know the price our God of Knowledge paid to share with us the secrets of demonic vulnerabilities and how they could be defeated. We do not even know now what all of those vulnerabilities might be, or all the ways to defeat them. His enemy, and ours, has made certain of that.
What we know is he felt the sacrifice to preserve our world was in all ways worth it. All he asked was that we persevere. All he asked was that we guard what we do learn, and to preserve what we know because knowledge is the greatest weapon, more so than any sword or bow could be.
What we also know is that some sacrifices are worth it. Even for a god. That is my example.
Written By Rymarr
April 8, 2017, 3:02 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
Recently I attempted to sing along with many other voices during an event held by the Marquessa of House Deepwood. Following that attempt at raising my voice up in song, I've determined that it may be utilized as a weapon against those who seek to destroy our fair Compact. It truly was bad. Another example of how one should stick to what they're good at and specialize.
I imagine it was akin to the sound of two cats with their tails tied together, thrown into a burlap sack, tied off, and given a good shaking. Then tossed into a bucket of water. In freezing temperatures. With baying hounds all around. It was bad.
I imagine it was akin to the sound of two cats with their tails tied together, thrown into a burlap sack, tied off, and given a good shaking. Then tossed into a bucket of water. In freezing temperatures. With baying hounds all around. It was bad.
Written By Octavia
April 8, 2017, 2:39 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Laric
Laric has been instrumental in constructing the court. While no inquisitor is trustworthy, perhaps this one can be trusted more than most.
Written By Eleyna
April 8, 2017, 1:36 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Antonio
He's hasn't been back but a few days and he's already planning another voyage. Hopefully, the next time he leaves, he remembers to come back with my present.
I like sparkly things, Antonio. The more sparkly, the better.
I like sparkly things, Antonio. The more sparkly, the better.
Written By Gisele
April 8, 2017, 12:55 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
I've never suffered the hurts others have. My brothers and sisters would run about and split open their knees or their heads, they broke more arms and legs between them than they should have possessed, and I sat with my books "keeping an eye on them" for my mother. I didn't run about. I never broke a bone or suffered worse than a paper cut (though cuts from parchment can be very wicked I don't pretend that they were actual wounds).
Now the Mercies say that I will probably always feel some shortness of breath if I exert myself too strenuously. It is scar tissue on my lungs where the arrows passed through. My pain has always been the sort inflicted by my mind on my emotions. I've never felt my body turn against me before. No one's ever tried to hurt me before.
The one who did it to me, to us, the one who killed all of those people in the Cathedral, he wants to do even worse. He wants us to wear the scars not just on our bodies but on our minds and our hearts too.
I still have my books. I still have my mind. I still have the sunshine. I still have the people I love and who love me. Hurt me and those things are still there. Kill me and they are still true: I was here and I loved and was loved. You can't erase us anymore. You can't keep us from the world or the world from us. You can't keep us from growing stronger.
Now the Mercies say that I will probably always feel some shortness of breath if I exert myself too strenuously. It is scar tissue on my lungs where the arrows passed through. My pain has always been the sort inflicted by my mind on my emotions. I've never felt my body turn against me before. No one's ever tried to hurt me before.
The one who did it to me, to us, the one who killed all of those people in the Cathedral, he wants to do even worse. He wants us to wear the scars not just on our bodies but on our minds and our hearts too.
I still have my books. I still have my mind. I still have the sunshine. I still have the people I love and who love me. Hurt me and those things are still there. Kill me and they are still true: I was here and I loved and was loved. You can't erase us anymore. You can't keep us from the world or the world from us. You can't keep us from growing stronger.
Written By Thena
April 8, 2017, 12:53 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
I ran into my cousin Mags and Aureth at the Murder today. It's been a while. Met Brother Aleksei as well. They seem to have an odd obsession with Officer Estardes, though personally I'm not seeing the draw. Seems best to ignore it.
It was strange being back there after the past 2 years. Petrae once told me "You can never go home again" and I think she's right. Even if I'm not really sure where 'home' is to begin with.
It was strange being back there after the past 2 years. Petrae once told me "You can never go home again" and I think she's right. Even if I'm not really sure where 'home' is to begin with.
Written By Niamh
April 8, 2017, 12:34 p.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
When I first set out to come to Arx it was by a circuitous route that followed the coast down into the Lyceum and around the southern tip of Arvum to come up. I could have came by more expedient routes, certainly, but I was newly a member of the Compact and flush with the excitement that brings - an excitement of knowing that previously closed places were open to me now. An excitement that only another prodigal could truly appreciate. During this trip we took a rest in Tor and among the marvels and splendors of the Rose Fortress I still remember a Devotion that was staying at our inn.
She was worn and weathered, skin sunbaked and her mahogany air streaked with the steel that you could see in her spirit. She walked with a bit of a hitch in her step and while you knew it pained her, it was an old and familiar pain that she had already learned to live with and had forgotten consciously it was part of her. Well-traveled, this one, if you understand me. I sat in the corner and listened to her tales for hours; she had traveled more of Arvum than I, at the time, even knew existed. I was fascinated with her words in a way few others have ever been able to do.
Among the tales that Devotion Esme had to tell was a curious one of the Last Knight of Menzonga. Menzonga had been an island in the chain of which Setarco takes part, once famed for its "knights." I use quotes here on purpose, for it was not an order of knighthood as I may wish to think of it, coming from the Oathlands. The Knights of Menzonga were an order of men and women who, once taking their vows, left Menzonga and never returned home again. Each of them knew that as soon as they gave their vows, their lives would be given in service, never their own again, and never would their lives end in peace of on the shores of their birth. Yet they did it, for this was the demand of their patron god - the one we call the Thirteenth.
The Knights of Menzonga, the Devotion told us, dedicated themselves to challenging those who would be leaders of men outside of the norm. When a Lord of Lady did not have an heir of their body and had to choose between others, they might summon a Knight of Menzonga and ask that the possibilities be tested. It was not a simple test of arms, but one of character. The Knights of Menzonga, you see, would personify the evil and villain, the tyranny, that could be, and see if the would-be-heir for their ability to overcome such things. In more traditional Oathlands tales, they would be the Black Knight in the story. But before any testing was done, the Knights would always ask the Lord one question.
"Do you see us for what we are, and accept what we do?"
That question has always struck me and stuck with me. It's something we should all ask ourselves more often when we go after what we want. Too often we're ready to take what's offered, or go after what we want, and not see it for what it truly represents. We trick ourselves into believing that those around us are good for us, or that we'll remain on the high, moral ground despite the dross we walk with. And really, it is two questions, equally important.
"Do you see us for what we are?" If you are to share a journey, even a short one, in this life with another, do you see them for what they are? Truly?
"Do you accept us for what we do?" If you see them true, do you accept them, without reservation, for what they do and understand that in doing so you accept some measure of responsibility for it?
(OOC Credit to Stephen King for the question)
She was worn and weathered, skin sunbaked and her mahogany air streaked with the steel that you could see in her spirit. She walked with a bit of a hitch in her step and while you knew it pained her, it was an old and familiar pain that she had already learned to live with and had forgotten consciously it was part of her. Well-traveled, this one, if you understand me. I sat in the corner and listened to her tales for hours; she had traveled more of Arvum than I, at the time, even knew existed. I was fascinated with her words in a way few others have ever been able to do.
Among the tales that Devotion Esme had to tell was a curious one of the Last Knight of Menzonga. Menzonga had been an island in the chain of which Setarco takes part, once famed for its "knights." I use quotes here on purpose, for it was not an order of knighthood as I may wish to think of it, coming from the Oathlands. The Knights of Menzonga were an order of men and women who, once taking their vows, left Menzonga and never returned home again. Each of them knew that as soon as they gave their vows, their lives would be given in service, never their own again, and never would their lives end in peace of on the shores of their birth. Yet they did it, for this was the demand of their patron god - the one we call the Thirteenth.
The Knights of Menzonga, the Devotion told us, dedicated themselves to challenging those who would be leaders of men outside of the norm. When a Lord of Lady did not have an heir of their body and had to choose between others, they might summon a Knight of Menzonga and ask that the possibilities be tested. It was not a simple test of arms, but one of character. The Knights of Menzonga, you see, would personify the evil and villain, the tyranny, that could be, and see if the would-be-heir for their ability to overcome such things. In more traditional Oathlands tales, they would be the Black Knight in the story. But before any testing was done, the Knights would always ask the Lord one question.
"Do you see us for what we are, and accept what we do?"
That question has always struck me and stuck with me. It's something we should all ask ourselves more often when we go after what we want. Too often we're ready to take what's offered, or go after what we want, and not see it for what it truly represents. We trick ourselves into believing that those around us are good for us, or that we'll remain on the high, moral ground despite the dross we walk with. And really, it is two questions, equally important.
"Do you see us for what we are?" If you are to share a journey, even a short one, in this life with another, do you see them for what they are? Truly?
"Do you accept us for what we do?" If you see them true, do you accept them, without reservation, for what they do and understand that in doing so you accept some measure of responsibility for it?
(OOC Credit to Stephen King for the question)
Written By Lark
April 8, 2017, 11:48 a.m.(3/26/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Karadoc
[image of a connect-the-dots griffin, poorly executed and entitled, 'Important Import Report']
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.