Written By Edain
Sept. 11, 2016, 7:18 p.m.(7/18/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Darren
I have only met Prince Darren a small handful of times, but so far I am impressed. He is every bit the rugged Northman his people want him to be, but in speaking with him I have seen that he is the cunning diplomat they need him to be. Despite personal tragedy and loss he has stepped into the mantle of his father, and even though I know it is not, he has made it look easy. I cannot deny that I envy that.
Written By Edain
Sept. 11, 2016, 7:06 p.m.(7/18/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Jessamine
I met young Goodwoman Jessamine at a council of physicians and healers to discuss the condition of King Alaric IV. By happenstance I found myself sitting next to her at the table. After reading a report on the King's disposition, I discretely asked her what 'pupils' were, medically you see, because I always thought that referred to a student. She shared with me that she first thought the report said 'puppies' and was sad to find there are none. Now in my experience puppies in healer's tent are a nuisance. They try to like the wounds, they eat the medicine and promptly get sick and vomit all over everything. But she seemed so so enamored with the thought of puppies romping in the gauze I couldn't bring myself to point this out. She seems like a good lass.
Written By Isolde
Sept. 11, 2016, 6:59 p.m.(7/18/1004 AR)
On Faith.
One may wonder, or even assume that the bias toward the gods means taking faith blindly, and closing one's mind to facts, truths, and the discovery of the natural order of the world. I feel this is to misunderstand the very nature of faith, and religion as a whole. You see, if one starts from a place where the natural order is dictated by divine mandate, then that assumption becomes a real concern.
Consider this, instead. The divine forces we place our faith in, and right revere as superior beings, lending their power and strength to the very world around us are not discrete beings, with minds and wills. Instead they are embodiments of the truths that become evident through observation and experimentation. Limerance, for example, is not a hormonal teenager that watches over us and plays at making hearts flutter at the sight of a pretty face. More, he is the ideal, the embodiment of what to strive for in courtly love, and the ideals of fidelity. We give face and name to this entity, and in so doing, actually limit his power to a singular will, instead of accepting his purpose as a guide, a teacher in the ways we live our day to day lives. He is, and yet, he is not, transcending our ability to understand divinity. He is a god, how could we even begin to fathom him.
If we accept this theory as true, then, it is our divine imperative, our very life's purpose, to live in this world, created by beings beyond understanding, and then use the tools they gave us to try and understand them better -- the very world itself, their archives, their musings on the higher ideals and truth. A farmer knows one must plant a seed, water it, and it will grow, and has learned, as he travels his life's path, when to plant, how much water, and all the necessary details to produce a flush crop. In doing so, Petrichor's very essence is revered. That farmer comes closer to that aspect of divinity than I ever could, even if I were to take my place as godsworn. That Farmer is greater to Petrichor's heart than any priest with fancy words and faithful soul.
There are mysteries in the world, and divine nature is but one. Perhaps the greatest one, and all others lead to that end. When the unexplained happens, we take on Faith that the divine understanding has shown us a hint, but also another path to explore, to make the world open it's trove of secrets to us. Faith is not to be feared or dismissed, but lauded, for only the Faithful truly understand that the world is meant to be ours. Those that turn from the faith, I pity, and do not despise, for they are simply blinded to the nature of the world. Their path is hard, wrought with peril, and perhaps they cannot even see the way. The guide and light of truth is there for them, but they reject it. I would walk with these people, to give them comfort, if I could.
Pantheon of the Thirteen Gods, I offer these words in understanding of your greatness, and pledge myself, once more, to learn the truths you have written in the world around me. I pray that I can guide others, to open their eyes, and bring them the peace that they are not lost, without recourse, but only a student in a never-ending lesson, meant to better and Strengthen.
One may wonder, or even assume that the bias toward the gods means taking faith blindly, and closing one's mind to facts, truths, and the discovery of the natural order of the world. I feel this is to misunderstand the very nature of faith, and religion as a whole. You see, if one starts from a place where the natural order is dictated by divine mandate, then that assumption becomes a real concern.
Consider this, instead. The divine forces we place our faith in, and right revere as superior beings, lending their power and strength to the very world around us are not discrete beings, with minds and wills. Instead they are embodiments of the truths that become evident through observation and experimentation. Limerance, for example, is not a hormonal teenager that watches over us and plays at making hearts flutter at the sight of a pretty face. More, he is the ideal, the embodiment of what to strive for in courtly love, and the ideals of fidelity. We give face and name to this entity, and in so doing, actually limit his power to a singular will, instead of accepting his purpose as a guide, a teacher in the ways we live our day to day lives. He is, and yet, he is not, transcending our ability to understand divinity. He is a god, how could we even begin to fathom him.
If we accept this theory as true, then, it is our divine imperative, our very life's purpose, to live in this world, created by beings beyond understanding, and then use the tools they gave us to try and understand them better -- the very world itself, their archives, their musings on the higher ideals and truth. A farmer knows one must plant a seed, water it, and it will grow, and has learned, as he travels his life's path, when to plant, how much water, and all the necessary details to produce a flush crop. In doing so, Petrichor's very essence is revered. That farmer comes closer to that aspect of divinity than I ever could, even if I were to take my place as godsworn. That Farmer is greater to Petrichor's heart than any priest with fancy words and faithful soul.
There are mysteries in the world, and divine nature is but one. Perhaps the greatest one, and all others lead to that end. When the unexplained happens, we take on Faith that the divine understanding has shown us a hint, but also another path to explore, to make the world open it's trove of secrets to us. Faith is not to be feared or dismissed, but lauded, for only the Faithful truly understand that the world is meant to be ours. Those that turn from the faith, I pity, and do not despise, for they are simply blinded to the nature of the world. Their path is hard, wrought with peril, and perhaps they cannot even see the way. The guide and light of truth is there for them, but they reject it. I would walk with these people, to give them comfort, if I could.
Pantheon of the Thirteen Gods, I offer these words in understanding of your greatness, and pledge myself, once more, to learn the truths you have written in the world around me. I pray that I can guide others, to open their eyes, and bring them the peace that they are not lost, without recourse, but only a student in a never-ending lesson, meant to better and Strengthen.
Written By Hammar
Sept. 11, 2016, 6:59 p.m.(7/18/1004 AR)
Hammar might need go talk to Hammer lady Ida, he find a buckle from Hammar armor not on Hammar armor! Hammar take care of armor, so not know where buckle come from, but it not hold armor on no more! Maybe Hammar maybe should check armor better, or not whack so hard, maybe Hammar whack too hard and buckle say 'no, not want hold armor'. Can armor talk? Hammar talk with old warhammer sometime when no one want talk to Hammar.
Written By Hammar
Sept. 11, 2016, 6:48 p.m.(7/18/1004 AR)
Hammar sometime wish Murder not get so loud with drunk. Hammar try sleep so Hammar not tired if need whack someone hard. People always make loud when get drunk and Hammar get tired of wake up. Hammar got wake up other day, Tavern full and Hammar have sit alone near table with lord and woman who ready to make naughty time. Why lord in Lower boroughs? Hammar not know, but no sign say Lord not can be there, Hammar guess.
Written By Fergus
Sept. 11, 2016, 6:41 p.m.(7/18/1004 AR)
Freja, apparently has not changed much since childhood. I've spent a lot of time at war, fighting with Sherrod and Vercyn, but since Sherrod's death and following the Battle of Deep pines, I am making a bit more of a relationship with my sister. She's apparently got a relatively important reason or reasons to be in this city. Makes me feel all the more useless for being here, as I am just here to try and make good on having not been here when Sherrod was killed. I'd just like to return to Farhaven, but I must make good on that, at the very least.
Written By Eos
Sept. 11, 2016, 6:32 p.m.(7/18/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Niccolo
It might have taken some time for the stars to align, and schedules with them, but the wait to sit and share a drink with Duke Niccolo outside of the larger social engagements proved well worth it. We have taken similar paths through our lives, to similiar effect, but he is some years ahead of me and I believe there is something to be learned from his experiences and wisdom that I might use in my own life and toward my own aspirations. House Velenosa continues to honor House Saik with each exchange.
Written By Anastasio
Sept. 11, 2016, 6:17 p.m.(7/18/1004 AR)
Ask any healer and they will tell you the same. It is not the laws of nature or the will of gods that most frequently impedes a patient's speedy recovery. Rather, it is the advice of the uninitiated yelling loudly about their ideas for treatment, rather than listening to those trained in the matter.
Written By Silas
Sept. 11, 2016, 5:40 p.m.(7/18/1004 AR)
I went to a bonfire at the beach which turned out to be a rather large gathering of the rich and important. I told a story which seemed to be appreciated, though I don't think was nearly as epic as the tale of the warrior defeating a giant tusked beast at the behest of a god! Princess Ophelia still rewarded me with silver for my efforts, though I was almost compelled to insist she keep it; I didn't because the notion that she needed it more than I did was ludicrous, and it almost felt rude to do so. Disappointing her feels akin to kicking a puppy.
I spoke with Prince Laric regarding some business with the Iron Guard and the Inquisition and I'm beginning to genuinely respect him beyond what is normally due to my social betters. He is not someone who should be underestimated.
The Medical Conference was half productive and half political theater. The ego present in the room was subtle and astounding all at once. I am relieved to see Lady Dawn assert herself, though; it was becoming difficult to sit back and just watch. Prince Edain was steadfastly in her corner; it was good he was present.
I'm going to go do some research on herbs.
I spoke with Prince Laric regarding some business with the Iron Guard and the Inquisition and I'm beginning to genuinely respect him beyond what is normally due to my social betters. He is not someone who should be underestimated.
The Medical Conference was half productive and half political theater. The ego present in the room was subtle and astounding all at once. I am relieved to see Lady Dawn assert herself, though; it was becoming difficult to sit back and just watch. Prince Edain was steadfastly in her corner; it was good he was present.
I'm going to go do some research on herbs.
Written By Joscelin
Sept. 11, 2016, 2:52 p.m.(7/18/1004 AR)
I am possessed of a melancholy today and I'm afraid I don't want to do anything but curl up in my bed with blankets around me, my sketchbook, and a cup of tea and a plate of scones.
Arx can catch on fire for all I care.
No, I am not going to set the city on fire. And no, I don't hate everyone.
It's a turn of phrase, don't get your breeches in a bunch.
Arx can catch on fire for all I care.
No, I am not going to set the city on fire. And no, I don't hate everyone.
It's a turn of phrase, don't get your breeches in a bunch.
Written By Joscelin
Sept. 11, 2016, 2:43 p.m.(7/18/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Isolde
A lovely woman, priestess, spiritual advisor... it's hard to describe Isolde. All I know is she brought me a moment's peace and it helped. I am grateful.
Written By Laric
Sept. 11, 2016, 1:23 p.m.(7/17/1004 AR)
Well, just as I expected it might, it hasn't been long since I arrived in the city, but the investigation has begun.
A colossal amount of resources has now been devoted towards singular subjects of interest meant to resolve some of the Compact's most lethal and dangerous mysteries. It falls on me to deliver results to the crown so that we are caught flat-footed no longer.
I do not feel ashamed for anyone to visit these journals and notice among the stacks of them that one Prince of House Grayson feels great trepidation at the thought of tilting at windmills and mistaking them for giants. My gut instinct may be the best in the Kingdom, and therefore it must be the best in the world, but that does not mean I am infallible. But in these cases, failure is not an option. I must find answers. It falls to me because my powers of deduction and reason are supreme amidst the rest of the Compact.
And it is no exaggeration to say that more silver has been spent in the interest of protecting the kingdom on three major lines of inquiry in the past couple of weeks than has been spent by some minor houses in their entire existence. Am I afeared that it is money poorly spent? Thankfully, no. In my humble and biased opinion I feel it is the best way this money can be spent. Your taxes will uncover answers, people of Arx, this I so swear. Perhaps they are answers we will come to dread, but answers we must hear...
While alliances and deals are struck, agents are hired, trained and sent out, as pressure is levied and time and blood is left on the floors of the interrogation room and beyond, as daring risks are taken, pigeons are sent, riders stocked and sent away, I find I have looked away from the hourglass longer than I expected I had. I have awoken to find a gray hair in my scalp in the reflection pool. A suggestion of crows feet that may appear in a few years at the side of my eyes. When did I become old? I suppose wracked with obsession for answers, I did not consider my own life was slipping away as though through a sieve. Do I regret it? No. But as proud as I am of this red and gold I walk the stones of Arx in, I have no one in particular to walk them with, and no child nor student to teach the wonders of Arvum that allowed this city to be. I lift my elegant sword and swing it, but I realize that as a warrior I come up short. I do not even possess a hobby...
A colossal amount of resources has now been devoted towards singular subjects of interest meant to resolve some of the Compact's most lethal and dangerous mysteries. It falls on me to deliver results to the crown so that we are caught flat-footed no longer.
I do not feel ashamed for anyone to visit these journals and notice among the stacks of them that one Prince of House Grayson feels great trepidation at the thought of tilting at windmills and mistaking them for giants. My gut instinct may be the best in the Kingdom, and therefore it must be the best in the world, but that does not mean I am infallible. But in these cases, failure is not an option. I must find answers. It falls to me because my powers of deduction and reason are supreme amidst the rest of the Compact.
And it is no exaggeration to say that more silver has been spent in the interest of protecting the kingdom on three major lines of inquiry in the past couple of weeks than has been spent by some minor houses in their entire existence. Am I afeared that it is money poorly spent? Thankfully, no. In my humble and biased opinion I feel it is the best way this money can be spent. Your taxes will uncover answers, people of Arx, this I so swear. Perhaps they are answers we will come to dread, but answers we must hear...
While alliances and deals are struck, agents are hired, trained and sent out, as pressure is levied and time and blood is left on the floors of the interrogation room and beyond, as daring risks are taken, pigeons are sent, riders stocked and sent away, I find I have looked away from the hourglass longer than I expected I had. I have awoken to find a gray hair in my scalp in the reflection pool. A suggestion of crows feet that may appear in a few years at the side of my eyes. When did I become old? I suppose wracked with obsession for answers, I did not consider my own life was slipping away as though through a sieve. Do I regret it? No. But as proud as I am of this red and gold I walk the stones of Arx in, I have no one in particular to walk them with, and no child nor student to teach the wonders of Arvum that allowed this city to be. I lift my elegant sword and swing it, but I realize that as a warrior I come up short. I do not even possess a hobby...
Written By Freja
Sept. 11, 2016, 12:20 a.m.(1/1/1001 AR)
This it it.
My brother is going to be the death of me, or at least the cause of premature graying. It isn't fair. Some sisters get the brothers that only give them toads in boxes.
Me? I get -this- one.
I mean...I totally deserve some of it, but STILL!
Bastard. I still love him.
My brother is going to be the death of me, or at least the cause of premature graying. It isn't fair. Some sisters get the brothers that only give them toads in boxes.
Me? I get -this- one.
I mean...I totally deserve some of it, but STILL!
Bastard. I still love him.
Written By Lou
Sept. 10, 2016, 8:17 p.m.(7/16/1004 AR)
I know I ought to remain within the city for some time at least. Especially with the King's current state. Grayson has need of me and I will answer.
But oh, my feet do itch to be outside of the Compact once again. I am slowly accruing better gear to replace what I had. So far it is soothing my desire to roam with promise of greater things ahead.
But oh, my feet do itch to be outside of the Compact once again. I am slowly accruing better gear to replace what I had. So far it is soothing my desire to roam with promise of greater things ahead.
Written By Joscelin
Sept. 10, 2016, 7:47 p.m.(7/16/1004 AR)
NO. I DO NOT HAVE HAIRY TITS. STOP GIVING ME STYLING TIPS.
Are you writing in capital letters? WHY? AND AGAIN!
(page is crumpled, pen marks scraped all over the page)
Are you writing in capital letters? WHY? AND AGAIN!
(page is crumpled, pen marks scraped all over the page)
Written By Hammar
Sept. 10, 2016, 6:50 p.m.(7/16/1004 AR)
Hammar have Joscelin friend make Lady Dawn friend jewelry. Lady dawn say she like a lot, so Hammar do good have Joscelin make the pretty. It cost lots silver, but Hammar think Lady Dawn worth lots silver. Hammar glad friend Joscelin know how make jewelry, she fast!
Written By Lou
Sept. 10, 2016, 1:40 p.m.(7/15/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Mason
Mason is settling in well enough, I think. I know he feels out of place; it's my family and my home and I often feel out of place. But he is more suited to cities and walls than I and I believe he will find his stride soon enough.
He is the personable one. The diplomat. He's good with words, where I simply wish to speak candidly. Candid and nobility often do not go hand-in-hand.
The subject of children was brought up. By him, not me. I'm wary, of course. Will I be a good mother? A part of me doesn't want to just join the cycle of handing a child off to a nanny, but I also don't want to be tethered to the city for so long. Taking a small child outside of the Compact is... ill-advised, at best.
But it is our duty to continue family lines. And I would see the next generation raised to respect the lands, respect the family, and support the people. We shall see what fate has in store for me.
He is the personable one. The diplomat. He's good with words, where I simply wish to speak candidly. Candid and nobility often do not go hand-in-hand.
The subject of children was brought up. By him, not me. I'm wary, of course. Will I be a good mother? A part of me doesn't want to just join the cycle of handing a child off to a nanny, but I also don't want to be tethered to the city for so long. Taking a small child outside of the Compact is... ill-advised, at best.
But it is our duty to continue family lines. And I would see the next generation raised to respect the lands, respect the family, and support the people. We shall see what fate has in store for me.
Written By Aurora
Sept. 10, 2016, 1:30 p.m.(7/15/1004 AR)
Center Stage
Clementine dressed in orange and cream finery, the full multi-layered pleated dress cascading around her in all it's glory as she takes a commanding stance among her people. There is no denying her grace, poise, nor her power, all radiating from the woman in an awe-inspiring display of a controlled presence.
The battle rages on around her. Her army being slaughtered, each decision made being questioned by those around her, as one by one, they fall at her feet. She is searching for one, turning young men over to see their lifeless eyes staring back. She did this. Clementine finds him, her general, the man she trusted more than any other, but he is quickly fading. There is a brief, passionate exchange, a sword...his sword...his family's destiny. It is gone, then so is he.
Scene Change
Clementine is alive, and while her army is left greatly handicapped, her city in ruins, she still possesses grace, poise, and power. There is no denying her these things, nor the rage that simmers just beneath the surface of her calm demeanor. Vengeance will be hers, obstacles will be overcome. The will in her will not be destroyed, and the leader rises once more.
Curtain
Till next time, Master Grayward.
Clementine dressed in orange and cream finery, the full multi-layered pleated dress cascading around her in all it's glory as she takes a commanding stance among her people. There is no denying her grace, poise, nor her power, all radiating from the woman in an awe-inspiring display of a controlled presence.
The battle rages on around her. Her army being slaughtered, each decision made being questioned by those around her, as one by one, they fall at her feet. She is searching for one, turning young men over to see their lifeless eyes staring back. She did this. Clementine finds him, her general, the man she trusted more than any other, but he is quickly fading. There is a brief, passionate exchange, a sword...his sword...his family's destiny. It is gone, then so is he.
Scene Change
Clementine is alive, and while her army is left greatly handicapped, her city in ruins, she still possesses grace, poise, and power. There is no denying her these things, nor the rage that simmers just beneath the surface of her calm demeanor. Vengeance will be hers, obstacles will be overcome. The will in her will not be destroyed, and the leader rises once more.
Curtain
Till next time, Master Grayward.
Written By Aurora
Sept. 10, 2016, 1:04 p.m.(7/15/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Audric
I find that Audric is not quite sure what he wants. Available for hire, a sellsword, with morals. How could one do such a job properly with those hanging above their head? I find myself intrigued, and wishing to test just how far his morals stretch when money is offered.
Written By Aurora
Sept. 10, 2016, 1 p.m.(7/15/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Rook
Charming, handsome, and full of praise, who would not wish for such a companion? He surprises me on some level, and while we may share quite a few things in common, he is much more worldly than I. He belongs at lavish balls and grand affairs, I am better at pretending.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.