Written By Daniella
Jan. 20, 2019, 3:37 p.m.(6/4/1010 AR)
Written By Nurie
Jan. 20, 2019, 2:42 p.m.(6/4/1010 AR)
A glorious white destrier, whose movements catch my breath just in the way she walks. A gift! And a gift for me, of all people! And yet for all her beauty she is so calm, and kind. Her muzzle is softer than the finest velvet, and she so carefully takes offerings from my hand. I think perhaps you are not supposed to, but she also didn't seem to mind at all when I hugged her neck and rested my ear against her, to listen to the rhythm of her powerful breathing and heartbeat. And as it turns out, she will sit as patiently as my lady for her lovely mane to be braided and baubled as well.
The groom says that I can start my lessons tomorrow. I have tried several times to start the letters of thanks that will go out to Princess Alarissa and Duke Christoph also, but every time I find tears of happiness spilling upon the page and I must start anew. It seems such a childish thing, to have the heart radiant with happiness in such times, but I am blessed beyond measure to have yet one more thing to ward off the darkness and worry that seems to have settled in the bottom of my throat these days.
Written By Amund
Jan. 20, 2019, 2:28 p.m.(6/4/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Preston
Written By Cambria
Jan. 20, 2019, 1:18 p.m.(6/4/1010 AR)
Written By Adora
Jan. 20, 2019, 1:14 p.m.(6/4/1010 AR)
Written By Cambria
Jan. 20, 2019, 1:05 p.m.(6/4/1010 AR)
Written By Reigna
Jan. 20, 2019, 12:58 p.m.(6/4/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Shard
I understand the desire to feel safe. To embrace that sense that everything is going to be alright. That we can put down that burden and quell that voice that tells you to beware. To *relax*. But it is a lie. We must change, we must embrace that fear and use it to motivate us to pushing ourselves beyond where we are comfortable to face the threats on our own.
You are wise.
Written By Octavia
Jan. 20, 2019, 12:53 p.m.(6/4/1010 AR)
The immediate release of all thralls could bring the Compact to its knees. It could start a civil war, especially with the unrest along the Great Road.
Written By Cambria
Jan. 20, 2019, 12:43 p.m.(6/4/1010 AR)
Written By Nurie
Jan. 20, 2019, 12:20 p.m.(6/4/1010 AR)
But it was far easier to do so, when I did not have to worry about Iriscal as well. So many slaughtered just outside our doorstep, and going to seek or having been honored already to serve the Thirteenth. Does this mean that those that hate the Thirteenth will steal over to hurt people in Iriscal as well? My beloved lady is here, and so there is a measure of safety I think. And my sweet brother as well, and they are well protected by Sir Elysio. But our old nurse is still in the family's home household, and so is the stern steward who has been there since...since my mother's mother I am sure! And the captain of the guards there. I couldn't bear to think of anything happening to them, or their children, or their children's children. When I was little and couldn't sleep, the captain of the guard didn't mind me walking along with him as long as I was quiet. And sometimes he would hold my hand and let me walk along the lower parapets, as long as the stone wasn't too slippery. I am sure that those that were slain, and yes even those that did the slaying--all of them surely have given and received little moments of kindness and love and unseen care for another. Perhaps they are more alike than they are different. Probably they are all doing the bidding of another far above their station.
What is it within us that we see not the man who cuddles and kisses and plays with his little child before he must put on his armor and take up his sword, the woman who keeps such meticulous journals of her faith and findings but yet has at her soul an eye for beauty that is so easy to see if only one takes a breath to look, the youth that embarks upon a journey away from home for the first time and is so excited and when he first sees the raised swords he might well wonder if it's some sort of strange salute? What makes us only see the cloaks our minds put upon others, to make them easier to harm and think it good and right?
I do not know. And here, things move forward as if nothing has happened, except for hidden tears in the market, and worries about profits (or happiness about them increasing, depending) because of the rising danger along trade routes.
It is a place most strange to be. But here I am, mending and creating and altering for so many that look quite the same when they're waiting for me in their underclothes.
Written By Evaristo
Jan. 20, 2019, 11:31 a.m.(6/4/1010 AR)
There's a wine shortage. Of Lenosian wines.
I need to hoarde them now.
Written By Leta
Jan. 20, 2019, 10:14 a.m.(6/4/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Serafine
It's been two years. It feels like it might as well have been yesterday.
The world has changed. Too much, if you ask me. But I always said that, didn't I? Truth is I liked it when things were simpler, when we didn't know about all these unnatural things that crawl in the corners of the world. I had a sword and I had my arms and that was that, and magic was something in the stories my nan used to tell me. I don't know what to make of all this, and I don't reckon I ever will.
For a while, it didn't matter. I had a star to guide me by, such as sailors do. I knew where my North was, or rather my South I suppose. I still ask myself what you'd want me to do, sometimes. What you'd think of things, like these foreigners and the road and all. But it's not the same. Used to be I had a purpose, and I don't feel like I've much of one these days. Things change but I don't. It's like I'm still stuck in the bloody muck of Setarco after all this time.
Maybe this ought to go in the Blacks, but folk forget too quickly. And maybe some day I'll do something heroic and worth speaking of. And then maybe Scholars of years to come, if they haven't all been killed, will want to learn more and ask why, and here they'll have it. Odds are I won't live to do great deeds, but you never know. And if I sacrifice myself for something, folk will talk about glory and honor and foolish things like that. Odds are I'll do because it would make you laugh.
I wish we'd never left home. Setarco would've done fine without us.
Meowlarice misses you too.
Written By Kenna
Jan. 20, 2019, 9:31 a.m.(6/4/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Fiora
I encourage you to speak to him before making more such public comments.
Written By Iseulet
Jan. 20, 2019, 5:38 a.m.(6/3/1010 AR)
Written By Preston
Jan. 20, 2019, 5:33 a.m.(6/3/1010 AR)
I have faith in the Compact to do what it needs to do. I trust that the peers will remember they are guardians of something greater than themselves and their lands. I know that the Faith will endure, because we will not let it be subsumed or destroyed by any foreign power, and if that is a task that needs me to die alone on a hill then so be it. But mostly, I want people to realise that survival is in and of itself not a virtue. To survive if it means giving away all you are, to survive if it means doing evil, to survive if it means losing the Gods, to survive if it means giving your children and your children's children's futures away? That is not what I would want. Nor do I think is it what Gloria would expect of us. I do not know if the choices ahead of us will force us to do such things, but we should not hunt safety at any cost.
As in all things, if it is in the service of righteousness, the Templars will stand with the secular forces of the Compact. As we have at Stormwall, at the Lodge, in the forests of the Lyceum, in the Gray Forest.
Written By Vincenzo
Jan. 20, 2019, 4:01 a.m.(6/3/1010 AR)
The world lost to ice and frost, a Winter unending.
Slowly the warmth returned, ten fingers and toes,
A heartbeat brought back to life like a crocus bursting through snow.
Face lifted into the warmth of the sun
Deep breaths drawn in, blood flowing, time still.
Unexpected and yet cherished, a reminder of what came before.
Before the endless, driving rain of icy knives.
Before the blade that carved skin from muscle,
Leaving raw ragged flesh exposed to cold and rain and sleet.
Before time and solitude rendered tissue as stone and steel.
As swift as it arrived, the light left, and in the wake the cold returns.
Veins freeze and light fades, swift and sure as the sun sets.
May it be forgotten again.
Written By Fiora
Jan. 20, 2019, 2:23 a.m.(6/3/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Sparte
But what do I know? You're obviously the wise one here.
Written By Angelo
Jan. 20, 2019, 2:17 a.m.(6/3/1010 AR)
Written By Angelo
Jan. 20, 2019, 2:15 a.m.(6/3/1010 AR)
Written By Mina
Jan. 20, 2019, 1:30 a.m.(6/3/1010 AR)
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.