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Written By Wylla

July 5, 2020, 5:54 p.m.(8/8/1013 AR)

Well, I've certainly now spent a considerable amount of time in quiet contemplation and prayer. I plan to soon make myself more available day to day, and will be glad to reply to any missive sent seeking counsel without undue delay.

If it's an issue too delicate to put to ink, you'll find me at the Shrine of Jayus with a pot of tea already steeping and paints at the ready.

Written By Delilah

July 5, 2020, 4:44 p.m.(8/8/1013 AR)

There's something magical to packing for an adventure.

Written By Kiera

July 5, 2020, 3:29 p.m.(8/8/1013 AR)

I attended the grand opening of stormbird's roost. Arx's first Eurisi Restaaurant The owner healer Rukhnis has outdone herself. the establishment is absolutely stunning and there were many scrumptious items on the menu that i am anxious to return to try though i likely will not go for seconds on the grasshopper which i nearly successfuly tried the first time. i appreciated the chance for new experience

Written By Kiera

July 5, 2020, 3:18 p.m.(8/8/1013 AR)

So it's finally happened. Drake, richard and I are finally officially Wyvernheart. Never have I been filled with such pride and hope. We owe a great deal of thanks to many. First to Dominique Marquessa and Marquis Calariian for entrusting us with this responsibility. To Legate Bianca and lady Tesh Telmar for their invaluable assistance. To members of the Blanchard household Verity Locke and our cousin Lord Jordan and finally to Count Philippe Blanchard. His guidance and support in these past months cannot be overstated. It may be some time yet before we can host a proper gathering of thanks but they have my heart from this moment. may wyrmguard, wyvernheart, and blanchard continue to grow and to prosper

Written By Kiera

July 5, 2020, 2:55 p.m.(8/8/1013 AR)

I heard about the sucess of Prince Niklas latest play and it brings a smile to my face. Though I am a disciple of Vellichor and not Jayus, I have alays taken pleasure in the power of words and the arts to move the soul and admire those who use their pen while others ready their swors. My his words draw people together into the light lest the fall in the waiting arms of darkness

Written By Valencia

July 5, 2020, 1:35 p.m.(8/8/1013 AR)

Again, I am filled with the deepest gratitude to those kind and generous souls who offered their assistance as we raised funds to help the Hart bring good things to Arx and Avrum.

I very much look forward to recognizing the kind donations of Lord Alban Farshaw, Lady Amieli Igniseri, Lady Braelynn Deepwood on behalf of House Deepwood, Prince Dimitri Velenosa, Baroness Lucita Saik, Lady Piccola Tessere on behalf of of House Tessere and our other generous donors who wished to remain anonymous at this time.

Thanks to their generosity our Hart can continue to work hard to raise spirits, silver and support so that all in our realm may grow and thrive.

To be true, good people like these who give without hesitation to my Hart humbled and heartened me. To see how much can be achieved when we work together will never stop to amaze and inspire me. It is so vital to our realm's success regardless of efforts or cause.

Again, my heart goes to all of our generous supporters -- past, present and future. You are beautiful reminders of hope in an oft empty and dark sky.


Written By Reve

July 5, 2020, 1:31 p.m.(8/8/1013 AR)

Relationship Note on Nurie

It was with pride that, on this day, I saw a proclamation that bore the name of Nurie Baseborn on it. Congratulations, Nurie.

Written By Azova

July 5, 2020, 1:28 p.m.(8/8/1013 AR)

Countess Carita has assured me that the pieces of aeterna fabric that are barely held together which she gifted me are actually a dress. I am a little dubious, but the second opinion I sought has also confirmed. It's a dress. Now, to figure out on what occasion to wear it.

Thank you, sister. I am certain it will make an impression!

Written By Reve

July 5, 2020, 11:48 a.m.(8/8/1013 AR)

Relationship Note on Sabine

Oh cousin,

What a magnificent ceremony that was. I must however correct you on one pertinent detail for the records.

Like some common creature? Never. It was my gift to you, to speak out against all etiquette and sense, and blatantly ensure you knew that I stood with you on your fine day.

Written By Valda

July 5, 2020, 10:50 a.m.(8/7/1013 AR)

It's been fairly quiet since my last journal entry. I always struggle with these; we never did them back home. I've spent some time since getting to know Scout Rowenova - a nice woman, seemingly eager to help - and Guardsman Tarik. I was invited to help an expedition, but the short notice meant my duty to Lady Rona came first. I also happened to find an injured raven. I took it as a sign, and I nursed it back to health. I named him Soot, for his color when I found him. He's turned darker since.

Written By Sabine

July 5, 2020, 6:03 a.m.(8/7/1013 AR)

The Dark Queen, the Bright Mirror and the Silken Prince.

They are the jewels of our March, these caravels, the physical manifestation of our dreams. Here I record my gratitude to my husband for the first two, and the Archduchess-Regent and her Voices for the last. Velenosa is not only liege, and ally, but friend and in this friendship, we will all profit. In land, in wealth, in prestige. With these three, we will lay claim to history; we will return and restore what was once lost; we will return light and life to darkness and ruin.

Written By Charis

July 5, 2020, 5:33 a.m.(8/7/1013 AR)

It's been many a year since my needle was unsteady in my hand. My apologies to Jayus for the shaky seam, the loose thread. They were provoked.

Written By Dariel

July 5, 2020, 4:12 a.m.(8/7/1013 AR)

Touring the Mourning Isles with Prince Niklas' play was quite the ride. The play itself was, well let's go with less than subtle. Not that I think it matters. Touring the isles did mean I had to take a ship between locations. This was my least favourite part. Even more than the assassination attempt on the cast.

Villains are enjoyably to play, especially when I give them a depth. Though hopefully that doesn't make them exactly likeable.

Written By Aconite

July 5, 2020, 1:30 a.m.(8/7/1013 AR)

I do not get to dance enough, I think. I enjoy it so much but I always forget it's there. Something I can even enjoy on my own. I'm grateful for Lord Malvici reminding me of it. I hope I have the free time to get better at remembering all the ways to move.. At least I'll have plenty of hobbies to keep me busy.

Written By Drake

July 5, 2020, 12:59 a.m.(8/7/1013 AR)

New House, new lands, new rooms... new name.

Going to take some getting used to Wyvernheart, but I absolutely trust Richard's leadership as the new Count.

Very proud of what we've accomplished.

Written By Jaenelle

July 5, 2020, 12:22 a.m.(8/7/1013 AR)


Written By Bahiya

July 4, 2020, 11:23 p.m.(8/7/1013 AR)

Everyone should go to Stormbird's Roost, Kenjay. Can that go in my journals? They have the best tea. Their musicians are exquisitely talented. Their food. I'm told the decor is beautiful. Please, tell everyone.

Written By Dio

July 4, 2020, 9:26 p.m.(8/6/1013 AR)

Not all languages need be written or spoken. Much can be conveyed, and deep bonds formed, in the language without words, and some employ it with surpassing eloquence.

Written By Lydia

July 4, 2020, 9:09 p.m.(8/6/1013 AR)

It was difficult to watch myself as I ran the Gauntlet at Victus' party. But I managed to get this first hand account of the matter, and I include it here for my memoirs in its entirety.


[Lydia] At the cake table, Lydia carefully sizes up her target. She rubs her chin as she looks down upon it. She crouches table-side to observe it layer-on. Nodding to herself she picks up a huge double-headed axe, struggles briefly with its weight, then brings it down upon her cake broad-side. Pieces of cake fly everywhere. Like shrapnel, taking out many nearby the table. A good portion of cake splats against Lydia's face and slides down her d├ęcolletage. Satisfied the cake is in at least 4 pieces, Lydia moves on.

Lydia rushes the line of dinghies, hopping one, two, three. It is on the forth that her toe catches the rim of a dinghy and spinning heels-over-head into the drink she goes. Some of the cake is tossed from her body by centrifugal forces, the rest spreads about her in the water to feed the fishes.

Climbing out of the ocean, her silk dress is stuck to her body. The Shark Fishing is pure luck. But it helps to read the rules before rushing in. Crossing her fingers and adding please, not a shark, not a shark, she casts her lure. Of course she gets a shark! Exactly what she didn't want! She turns it in with an adorable pout.

It is at the Kraken's Pass that all hope of getting the salt water out of silk goes out the window. Cloth drenched in oil slap at her body, ripping holy terror out of the silk, but she dances her way along. She almost seems to enjoy the tentacles having their way with her body, using each blow to spin herself along the plank. That is, until the dog-headed whale knocks her right in the back of the skull. She tumbles from the plank, a sickening thud upon the sea. It is a few moments before she can be seen climbing up the side of the next ship waving, looking like she's shouting "I'm okay, I'm okay" over her shoulder. But it might just be "ow that hurt", it's hard to tell.

Talk about a wardrobe malfunction, the torn neckline of her dress is more open, significantly lower than when she started. Her dress has lots of slits now to show off her graceful legs. She races toward the foremast, oily feet sometimes slipping on the teak deck, but she keeps her feet and climbs the rigging. She claims jewels, dangling bottles of perfume, anything she can toss about her neck and keep moving. From the foresail line she tucks a stuffed kraken under one arm. At the end, she snags a couple strips of fabric and tosses them over a descending line, holding both ends. If there are cries of "are you crazy" from the crowd she doesn't hear them. She slides down the line like a... um... like anything but a pro, crying out in delight.. um.. or maybe abject terror as gravity adds to her momentum. Her prize necklaces flail about her neck, beads and perfume and ribbons in wild chaos. But through it all she hangs on to her kraken and delivers him, and by some miracle every gathered prize safely to the deck.

Oh no, the dinghies again. With more care, she tries to make her way across, but after everything she's already beyond the limits of her stamina. She takes a graceful stumble and hits the water back-side first. Holding her stuffed Kraken above her head and out of the wet, she slowly returns to shore.

Climbing the sands, she simply plants one bare foot after another, non-stop. It is at the tree she catches her breath, and picks up the Conch shell. She shouts out aloud, "Bless you, Mangata, Goddess of sea and breeze, for all those who keep their composure as they face adversity. She presses her lips to the shell and blows a single, pristine note, clear and loud, as if the Goddess answers her in its tone. And, satisfied, she saunters her way off the gauntlet, drenched, bedraggled, and clothed in silken shreds that by some miracle give her a last remaining modicum of modesty. Nothing can take away her dignity.

(OOC) TL;DR Don't. I survived. I had way too much fun writing this and I'm very very sorry.

Written By Piccola

July 4, 2020, 7:30 p.m.(8/6/1013 AR)

Relationship Note on Magnus

If what you say is true, Lord Marquis, then it serves all to remember the baseness of war.

War is the true nurse of a noble's self-aggrandizement. For a nation in war: an army is to be created and directed by its lord's will; the public treasures are unlocked and used by its lord's will; the honors and emoluments of office are multiplied and subject to its lord's will; and the patronage and spoils for the victorious are reaped and enjoyed at its lord's will. In war, by our praise and beliefs, laurels are gathered and bestowed to whom prevails. And so, it is obvious that the strongest passions and most dangerous weaknesses -- ambition, avarice, vanity, pride -- are all in conspiracy against the desire and duty of peace.

When the sword is once drawn, the passions of men and woman observe no bounds of moderation. Any suggestion of wounded pride or instigation of resentment will carry a nation to any extremes necessary to avenge the affront or to avoid the disgrace of submission. For those in the Compact who bend to the Thirteen's traditions is there a fragile peace in the form of honorable resolution, but outside of the same boundaries there is no such satisfaction. And for so long as there are those who will not follow such paths the art of war shall always be an important element of statesmanship, one that is often forgotten in the intrigues of politics in peace-time.

Peace or war will not always be left to our option, and however moderate or unambitious we may be, we cannot count upon the moderation, or hope to extinguish the ambition, of others.

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