Written By Freja
Nov. 25, 2016, 1:02 p.m.(3/18/1005 AR)
I had thought that once I came South from Farhaven that it would be quiet for me. There would be none to pay heed to the scout of the snows, who prefers leathers and furs to silk.
I don't know whether to be happy or annoyed that I was wrong.
I don't know whether to be happy or annoyed that I was wrong.
Written By Anze
Nov. 25, 2016, 11:29 a.m.(3/18/1005 AR)
This is tha most confusing f'an week I think I've had in a long time.
Tha city is doin weird things tah my life.
I'm not sure if I should quit drinking or start drinking twice as much.
Tha city is doin weird things tah my life.
I'm not sure if I should quit drinking or start drinking twice as much.
Written By Natalia
Nov. 25, 2016, 10:08 a.m.(3/18/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Edain
I wish there was more I could do or say to convey just how much it means to me. I am good at using words, but sometimes even I am rendered speechless.
Thank you for being you.
Thank you for being you.
Written By Natalia
Nov. 25, 2016, 10:07 a.m.(3/18/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Leola
The animal handler is a bit shy perhaps, but she comes out of her shell. I am happy that she seems happy to see me. Funny what being nice does, yes? I am happy to recommend her to any and all that have questions about beasts. I am glad that she is in the city.
Written By Natalia
Nov. 25, 2016, 10:05 a.m.(3/18/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Anze
Tea could have been called for a different reason, but I thank you for listening and understanding my points as well.
Written By Natalia
Nov. 25, 2016, 10:05 a.m.(3/18/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Fergus
You are welcome for all the points to ponder.
Written By Sina
Nov. 25, 2016, 9:21 a.m.(3/18/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Silas
I haven't met Sir Silas Mercier in person, but he does particularly fine work and his messengers are all polite. Maybe when I decide to furnish my room, I'll have a reason to speak to him face to face.
Written By Runa
Nov. 25, 2016, 8:35 a.m.(3/17/1005 AR)
The eastern wall and its Seawatch gate is an awe inspiring sight. I must thank Lady Calypso for the opportunity to tour it. What a vista to devour atop the massive edifice. I must admit the vertigo almost distracted me, but it was well worth it. This must be a portion of what rulers feel as they consider their responsibilities and duties and bordering neighbours.
Written By Max
Nov. 25, 2016, 7:43 a.m.(3/17/1005 AR)
I met with the seeking one tonight.
She tried, as before, to be overeager and rush things. I challenged her - I pushed her back. I made her talk to me. I made her have a conversation. It went very well.
I hope very much she takes my lessons to heart. They will serve her well in her quest.
She tried, as before, to be overeager and rush things. I challenged her - I pushed her back. I made her talk to me. I made her have a conversation. It went very well.
I hope very much she takes my lessons to heart. They will serve her well in her quest.
Written By Max
Nov. 25, 2016, 7:41 a.m.(3/17/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Sebell
I met a priest I like. He manages to not be a complete asshole. I think I shall ask he be appointed as the faiths vicar to my house. He is of Mangata, and was born in Tyde hall, and his disposition is what one might call charming. I like him, I will let him bless my home.
But I won't leave him near the silver or the women.
But I won't leave him near the silver or the women.
Written By Sabella
Nov. 25, 2016, 4:06 a.m.(3/17/1005 AR)
The Romance continues with a different masculine figure. Orange and red colors blend across the sky in a beautiful setting sun. We talked, and cuddled, and talked some more by the fire light. He learned my secret, and time will tell if he can keep it to himself. I am taking some big leaps with my love life. Either I will be carried, or the fall will end in crushing heartbreak.
Either ending should make for quite a journey.
Either ending should make for quite a journey.
Written By Eirene
Nov. 25, 2016, 2:21 a.m.(3/17/1005 AR)
If I wasn't fond of alcohol before, coming to Arx would certainly turn me into a drunk. Mind you, I'm no lush. I'm perfectly capable of not drinking. I just choose to not -not- drink. I've learned enough in the past month to equal thirty years worth of stories and tales and terrors.
I take that back - ALMOST in the past month. There's some things in my past which will likely go without equal and if I do go through it again? I'll guarantee that I crawl into a bottle to not have to deal with that sort of torment twice in one lifetime.
I take that back - ALMOST in the past month. There's some things in my past which will likely go without equal and if I do go through it again? I'll guarantee that I crawl into a bottle to not have to deal with that sort of torment twice in one lifetime.
Written By Viktarkim
Nov. 24, 2016, 10:01 p.m.(3/16/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Natalia
I'm still trying to figure her out. She may be what she seems, but she comes across rather too sugar coated. Trying too hard to be everyone's friend and especially mine? I don't trust her and she knows that. Doesn't mean I don't like her, but how can a woman like that be as simple as she claims? Too many layers. Women are complicated enough but she's also every inch the overly refined Princess who very much doesn't like someone to tell her 'No', no matter how politely I put it.
Written By Viktarkim
Nov. 24, 2016, 9:53 p.m.(3/16/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Morrighan
Clothier, prodigal to House Redrain. Drinks whiskey, has a big black raven named Brahm. I like the bird. Handsome and probably good eating, too. Morrighan's all right too, friend of Joscelin's apparently. Had a good drink together recently.
Written By Viktarkim
Nov. 24, 2016, 9:46 p.m.(3/16/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Edain
I ran into the Prince the other day at a tavern. He paid me about the nicest compliment of my entire life, saying my employer spoke well of me. I won't go into details, but ... well, it was unexpected. He then told the barkeep to put my drink and anything else I wanted on /his/ tab. Coffee has to be imported from the tropics and on my wages, not a luxery I can often afford. But that was about the best cup I ever tasted. Thank you, Your Highness.
Written By Costas
Nov. 24, 2016, 8:56 p.m.(3/16/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Ianthe
On the second ship I crewed, there was this mate named Titch. Shifty little bastard but he'd been sailing longer than most had seen summers. Not officer material on account of a petty temper, but canny enough to know that was for the best. The one weird thing about Titch was he had this knife, taken it off some Thraxian marine in his first boarding action. It was a nice knife, honestly. Wickedly curved, sharp as hell, set with some of the largest peridots I've ever seen. He took good care of it too, every time we came into port he'd have the gripped re-wrapped with new leather.
I remember one night we had this card game. Ship was at anchor and we'd been hard at oar that day, so all awake were getting well into cups. We're in the middle of a hand and out of nowhere Titch starts losing his mind. Screaming about where's his knife. Sure enough, empty strap where he kept it. We're all thinking drunk bastard must've dropped it, but everyone knows this will just go on until he gets it so we get up to start looking, and then we hear this giggle. One of the new fish, he's got the fucking thing in his teeth, wiggling his eyebrows, having a good stitch up.
Titch flew at the bloke like crossbolt. Knocks him down and just starts pummeling his gob, screaming. I remember he kept saying "You don't touch it.", over and over while he knocked out teeth. Brun, this big fucking islander we had as a quarterman, tries to pull him off and gets his nose broke for the trouble. We're all thinking, okay, just let him get it all out, we'll toss them both in the cage after and get on with the night. Titch though, he grabs this growler off the floor and before we can realize what's going to happen, caves the kids head right in with one blow. We all get lashes the next morning. Titch gets double, takes it smiling the whole time.
So about a year later we're pulling the cork on this little sloop. Titch is in the sling after sledging the bitch, and he gets caught up in the anchor rode as they're hauling him in. He pulls out that knife to cut it and the wind comes up- knocks it right out his hand. I'm thinking, well, that's the end of that. But Titch, no hesitation, slips right out of the fucking sling and dives straight into the water after it. Down there for three, four minutes before we all start thinking okay, that's the end of Titch. But then he shoots up out of chop, grinning like a damn fool, and sure enough he's got that fucking knife. He's holding it up above his head, laughing his ass off, and of course we're all shouting and clapping because hell, it was damn impressive thing. And that's when this big old toothy white shark comes up outta nowhere, and bites Titch right in half. Was probably down there the whole time gnawing on a corpse until Titch started splashing around and hollering.
Point of this story is- I don't know if this girl is the knife, or the shark.
I remember one night we had this card game. Ship was at anchor and we'd been hard at oar that day, so all awake were getting well into cups. We're in the middle of a hand and out of nowhere Titch starts losing his mind. Screaming about where's his knife. Sure enough, empty strap where he kept it. We're all thinking drunk bastard must've dropped it, but everyone knows this will just go on until he gets it so we get up to start looking, and then we hear this giggle. One of the new fish, he's got the fucking thing in his teeth, wiggling his eyebrows, having a good stitch up.
Titch flew at the bloke like crossbolt. Knocks him down and just starts pummeling his gob, screaming. I remember he kept saying "You don't touch it.", over and over while he knocked out teeth. Brun, this big fucking islander we had as a quarterman, tries to pull him off and gets his nose broke for the trouble. We're all thinking, okay, just let him get it all out, we'll toss them both in the cage after and get on with the night. Titch though, he grabs this growler off the floor and before we can realize what's going to happen, caves the kids head right in with one blow. We all get lashes the next morning. Titch gets double, takes it smiling the whole time.
So about a year later we're pulling the cork on this little sloop. Titch is in the sling after sledging the bitch, and he gets caught up in the anchor rode as they're hauling him in. He pulls out that knife to cut it and the wind comes up- knocks it right out his hand. I'm thinking, well, that's the end of that. But Titch, no hesitation, slips right out of the fucking sling and dives straight into the water after it. Down there for three, four minutes before we all start thinking okay, that's the end of Titch. But then he shoots up out of chop, grinning like a damn fool, and sure enough he's got that fucking knife. He's holding it up above his head, laughing his ass off, and of course we're all shouting and clapping because hell, it was damn impressive thing. And that's when this big old toothy white shark comes up outta nowhere, and bites Titch right in half. Was probably down there the whole time gnawing on a corpse until Titch started splashing around and hollering.
Point of this story is- I don't know if this girl is the knife, or the shark.
Written By Kima
Nov. 24, 2016, 8:55 p.m.(3/16/1005 AR)
Do we judge men for their blood, or for their actions? The answer is both, of course, even if within the court of Sentinel they will assure you only the latter holds true. Yet look around - look to me, if you will. Shavs I have slain, and more than a few. Of a hundred different tribes, each no more than a snarling mask stretched over bone. They all screamed with one voice from a thousand different throats. Their guilt?
It is simple, and it is this: We are not them, and they are not us.
Oh, I realize all manner of atrocity that can be hidden within those few, innocuous little words. But to the thornier subject...
A fellow Arvani, standing in blood up to his elbows. His background is not the same as your own, his customs strange and...perhaps even a little barbaric. They are distasteful to you, but do they not still fall under the law of the Compact? What about the fealty owed to their high lord? Does serving that man or woman, whose orders may be rooted in cruelty, besmirch the honor of the one following them...Or does it make them more honorable?
If he is deemed unworthy, if he is judged for that, then is that not picking and choosing which law you wish to follow? More importantly, is it not choosing to whom the law applies...and to whom it does not?
These are my musings, which are worth less than the ink and parchment which binds them into reality. After all, everyone knows that the shape of virtue is inked in obscenity.
Myself most of all.
It is simple, and it is this: We are not them, and they are not us.
Oh, I realize all manner of atrocity that can be hidden within those few, innocuous little words. But to the thornier subject...
A fellow Arvani, standing in blood up to his elbows. His background is not the same as your own, his customs strange and...perhaps even a little barbaric. They are distasteful to you, but do they not still fall under the law of the Compact? What about the fealty owed to their high lord? Does serving that man or woman, whose orders may be rooted in cruelty, besmirch the honor of the one following them...Or does it make them more honorable?
If he is deemed unworthy, if he is judged for that, then is that not picking and choosing which law you wish to follow? More importantly, is it not choosing to whom the law applies...and to whom it does not?
These are my musings, which are worth less than the ink and parchment which binds them into reality. After all, everyone knows that the shape of virtue is inked in obscenity.
Myself most of all.
Written By Kima
Nov. 24, 2016, 7:55 p.m.(3/16/1005 AR)
I cannot light a true bonfire in honor of my father's passing, but what I can do - and have done - is light a candle. For the next several nights I will keep it lit within my window. The pain of loss will never truly leave, never truly fade, but that is what it is to live.
There are few, I think, that truly understand that all emotions have their place. Anger. Sorrow. Joy. Just as we think it wrong to be sad more often than not, to never know it is just as peculiar.
Some day, maybe sooner, maybe later, I will think of my father, and recall all that was good and wonderful about the man. It will be tinged with remorse, yes, but I will not be overshadowed by the emptiness that is his absence.
I think I'll write mother more often.
There are few, I think, that truly understand that all emotions have their place. Anger. Sorrow. Joy. Just as we think it wrong to be sad more often than not, to never know it is just as peculiar.
Some day, maybe sooner, maybe later, I will think of my father, and recall all that was good and wonderful about the man. It will be tinged with remorse, yes, but I will not be overshadowed by the emptiness that is his absence.
I think I'll write mother more often.
Written By Costas
Nov. 24, 2016, 7:40 p.m.(3/16/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Eirene
This woman has more in common with some I've met in sea havens, and on some ships, than anything I've imagined of the nobility.
Firstly, she reeks of booze. Well not reeks really, I happen to like the smell of whiskey and think it goes fine with women but again, nobility. Second, unlike her unreadable niece, there is little room for interpretation of her words. Not to say that all is on the surface. Uncomplicated would fall short of the mark. I suspect this woman is in fact quite complicated. Does she stand off others by nature? I've met some like this. But her way with Calypso did not put me in mind of a simply quarrelsome woman. Of the two times I've seen her one was wearing a dress - well, I add - and much joking was made of it by those familiar with her. I think this distance she puts between her and others is instead similar to the way that some folk keep a conspicuously clean home. Their way of keeping the sight-lines clear round the fort. Some place to exist where the context is comfortable, in their control.
My curiosity is best left at that else I risk incurring it in return.
Firstly, she reeks of booze. Well not reeks really, I happen to like the smell of whiskey and think it goes fine with women but again, nobility. Second, unlike her unreadable niece, there is little room for interpretation of her words. Not to say that all is on the surface. Uncomplicated would fall short of the mark. I suspect this woman is in fact quite complicated. Does she stand off others by nature? I've met some like this. But her way with Calypso did not put me in mind of a simply quarrelsome woman. Of the two times I've seen her one was wearing a dress - well, I add - and much joking was made of it by those familiar with her. I think this distance she puts between her and others is instead similar to the way that some folk keep a conspicuously clean home. Their way of keeping the sight-lines clear round the fort. Some place to exist where the context is comfortable, in their control.
My curiosity is best left at that else I risk incurring it in return.
Written By Tulasam
Nov. 24, 2016, 6:55 p.m.(3/16/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Donella
Well I have been hired to do some work by this amazing woman. She has agreed to help me with the plan to build. Donated to the cause now to write this song.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.