Written By Elgana
May 24, 2020, 4:59 p.m.(5/8/1013 AR)
I remember fondly many tales from my girlhood that were told by one of the many tutors we had in Farhaven. But perhaps one of the ones that ring so true now is the tale about a young woman who desired a great many things and the lengths she'd go to acquire them. She would wheedle, she would deal and bargain, and sure enough, she'd always get what she wanted no matter the cost to herself and those around her, to those relationships she enjoyed, never realizing what she was doing outside of that victory of hers.
For a time she'd be satisfied with whatever trinket or lover or pretty little thing she had obtained, content to bask in another victory despite that dearly paid price, for everything has a price. A victory that slowly, but surely as always, turned to ash in her mouth. A victory that soon became boredom with that once coveted desire of hers. And from that boredom would blossom that need, that urge to go hunting for something new to spike that feeling inside of her back up. She would take and take and take until there was nothing left. Until there was no one left for her to turn to, to deal with, or simply enjoy their companionship. The young woman had burned every bridge in her pursuits, ruined everything in her lust and greed to have every single thing she wanted.
There is no happy ending to this tale, no. The young woman did not learn the error of her ways, for it was far too late for her to be anything more than what she was, hollow and aching, hungry, and unsatisfied. I always wondered what became of her, this one who took everything for granted and discarded people and things with such wild abandon, but my tutor would simply shake their head and smile. And gods and spirits, it was such a sad smile. The lesson remains, though, to be careful with everything and to appreciate all we have, great or small. And to give freely all that we can afford to give.
For a time she'd be satisfied with whatever trinket or lover or pretty little thing she had obtained, content to bask in another victory despite that dearly paid price, for everything has a price. A victory that slowly, but surely as always, turned to ash in her mouth. A victory that soon became boredom with that once coveted desire of hers. And from that boredom would blossom that need, that urge to go hunting for something new to spike that feeling inside of her back up. She would take and take and take until there was nothing left. Until there was no one left for her to turn to, to deal with, or simply enjoy their companionship. The young woman had burned every bridge in her pursuits, ruined everything in her lust and greed to have every single thing she wanted.
There is no happy ending to this tale, no. The young woman did not learn the error of her ways, for it was far too late for her to be anything more than what she was, hollow and aching, hungry, and unsatisfied. I always wondered what became of her, this one who took everything for granted and discarded people and things with such wild abandon, but my tutor would simply shake their head and smile. And gods and spirits, it was such a sad smile. The lesson remains, though, to be careful with everything and to appreciate all we have, great or small. And to give freely all that we can afford to give.
Written By Rosalind
May 24, 2020, 4:58 p.m.(5/8/1013 AR)
The caravel party last night was so fun! I made the attempt of climbing of the mast--You know, because ALL GARDENS HAVE BOATS IN THEM--To retrieve a prize from the crow's nest. I--failed. But it was fun. A whole lot of fun! Thank you Kieran for being my date for the evening, even if I did end up ditching you!
Written By Rook
May 24, 2020, 4:58 p.m.(5/8/1013 AR)
Many have, upon seeing me abroad in the city, welcomed me back. I assure you all, I wasn't away. There are ever so many ledgers in the city in need of scrutiny and balancing and sometimes the work just needs done by dint of long hours and candles burned low. For those of you with interests in tallow and lamp oil, you're most welcome.
The troubles that visit us now are not new. And even to say they 'visit us now,' suggests they were gone. They were not. Troubled times encourage all of us, high and low, rich and poor, to look closely and seek the truth in what we face. The truth I have seen is that no gift of compassion or grace is too small to offer. They are all necessary.
The Crown pulls levers that are large and move slowly. While those gears mesh, I am happy to coordinate and support efforts of those moving more quickly - the Faith, the Crafter's Guild, and the Commoner's Council, and others to be certain.
The troubles that visit us now are not new. And even to say they 'visit us now,' suggests they were gone. They were not. Troubled times encourage all of us, high and low, rich and poor, to look closely and seek the truth in what we face. The truth I have seen is that no gift of compassion or grace is too small to offer. They are all necessary.
The Crown pulls levers that are large and move slowly. While those gears mesh, I am happy to coordinate and support efforts of those moving more quickly - the Faith, the Crafter's Guild, and the Commoner's Council, and others to be certain.
Written By Ravna
May 24, 2020, 3:13 p.m.(5/8/1013 AR)
S'oh, y'know, like. Once. Twice maybe, no I think it was just once, did'ju know - I stacked up a lil' castle of silver an-and gold? Cool as shit, man. I like, I got all the coins to sit on edge, right? Ajas was pissed but, man, like, I got'em all stacked up. So proud. Took me like, forever, my luck though like, I stacked them and made this lil' shiny castle on the table, coolest thing when I was like, five. I r-remember that this one Iron Guard kid, right, kid then but I was like a lil' boot-clinger, so this kid just stared and watched. Said shit about Mama G-Gold, right? Er. Gild. Whatever. Anyways, was great, took me forever.
Yeah.
Oh, I dunno how many coins. A lot? Ajas was pissed. Hahahahaaa!
Yeah.
Oh, I dunno how many coins. A lot? Ajas was pissed. Hahahahaaa!
Written By Meara
May 24, 2020, 10:16 a.m.(5/7/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Porter
What? Do they think people call us "Pirate Killers" for shits and giggles?
Written By Sirius
May 24, 2020, 6:04 a.m.(5/7/1013 AR)
Man is treated to war the day he is born.
It is his mother who is with him for that first battle, and to his mother whom he calls in his last. If only the evil we see in others could be seen in ourselves, then the call to swords might fall on deaf ears. How sad that men are so uncomfortable looking inward, and how sadder still that when the call for swords is made our ears hear better than ever.
I've always wondered if that is why the Queen of Endings is too known as the Mother of Beginnings, because in life; in our lives, of us with mortal coil, we see a cycling quasi-exhibition perhaps of her own life. That it isn't just our bearer we call to but, in a way, through the power and symbolism in the word itself, we too summon her.
Strange musings for you Scholar, I know, but I'm bed-ridden on account of a healing foot and there's nothing worse than my head when it's cooped-up and bored out of its mind.
It is his mother who is with him for that first battle, and to his mother whom he calls in his last. If only the evil we see in others could be seen in ourselves, then the call to swords might fall on deaf ears. How sad that men are so uncomfortable looking inward, and how sadder still that when the call for swords is made our ears hear better than ever.
I've always wondered if that is why the Queen of Endings is too known as the Mother of Beginnings, because in life; in our lives, of us with mortal coil, we see a cycling quasi-exhibition perhaps of her own life. That it isn't just our bearer we call to but, in a way, through the power and symbolism in the word itself, we too summon her.
Strange musings for you Scholar, I know, but I'm bed-ridden on account of a healing foot and there's nothing worse than my head when it's cooped-up and bored out of its mind.
Written By Tanith
May 24, 2020, 2:34 a.m.(5/7/1013 AR)
... I think I've caught the puppy herding spiders across my kitchen floor.
I'm not certain. He is a very -large- puppy and he's a bit calmer than what they're purported to be (I expected more bounding and mess but really, he's a lot better than the drunks I deal with), but there was a spider on the kitchen floor that he was carefully ... following. And sniffing at. But the moment he saw me, it was tails wagging and tongues out and I lost track of the little eight-legged friend. After making sure my furry companion didn't eat him, I concluded the spider got away. The puppy wouldn't tell me if it was an official escort across the house, but then I don't speak dog. That or he's mastered the Grayhope sense of composure.
I'm not certain. He is a very -large- puppy and he's a bit calmer than what they're purported to be (I expected more bounding and mess but really, he's a lot better than the drunks I deal with), but there was a spider on the kitchen floor that he was carefully ... following. And sniffing at. But the moment he saw me, it was tails wagging and tongues out and I lost track of the little eight-legged friend. After making sure my furry companion didn't eat him, I concluded the spider got away. The puppy wouldn't tell me if it was an official escort across the house, but then I don't speak dog. That or he's mastered the Grayhope sense of composure.
Written By Dianna
May 24, 2020, 1:11 a.m.(5/7/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Ravna
...Yes, you may scribe this for me; with my thanks.
I know you think he's mad, but he's not. He makes perfect sense, if one can slip away from the need to construct thoughts, sentences in the way one expects them to be constructed. ...Yes, I was, indeed, brought up to construct sentences in a specific and precise way; but it helps very little for others to understand my meanings, I have learned; and, perhaps, it is the fact that others find him mad that makes him more acceptable, palatable to others. You laugh, but that, alone, is better than raging - is it not? Better than crying over words you think you understand, that break your heart - only to come to find, at some point in the future, that you had mistaken their meaning, had tossed aside someone you loved?
I have, indeed, done both; and I have had both done to me. I prefer the mad glee of my beloved Culler, who loves me with such freedom, it is very likely mad; but I'd be a fool not to love him in return, and a greater fool, yet, if I was to discard him.
...Reputations are not everything, my dear. Reputations are but the ideas others have of us, and do not, necessarily, reflect Truths. Come, now; surely, in all your days and nights of listening to others spill their thoughts to you, in all of your many years of service to Vellichor, in all of the wild and wondrous things you read from days of yore, you know as well as I how this is true.
Why, reputations are like the dreams from which we wake, in which we think, are incredibly sure that we know - for instance - that a great and terrible battle has occurred, and we ~believe~ that this idea is entirely true, for we bear the marks of a great and terrible battle: bruises, broken bones, headaches and such.
But we know, too, that we cannot, must not believe everything our minds deign to allow us to see - nor to believe that what our minds deign for us to see is all that can be seen.
Some things, and often the greatest Truths of all, remain hidden from view, from knowing. At least for now.
Such is the nature of life. At least, for now; and likely, for all times - lest we fall into the temptation of believing we know all things, when we do not; lest we fall into the temptation of believing others know our thoughts, our hearts, when they see but fragments.
I know you think he's mad, but he's not. He makes perfect sense, if one can slip away from the need to construct thoughts, sentences in the way one expects them to be constructed. ...Yes, I was, indeed, brought up to construct sentences in a specific and precise way; but it helps very little for others to understand my meanings, I have learned; and, perhaps, it is the fact that others find him mad that makes him more acceptable, palatable to others. You laugh, but that, alone, is better than raging - is it not? Better than crying over words you think you understand, that break your heart - only to come to find, at some point in the future, that you had mistaken their meaning, had tossed aside someone you loved?
I have, indeed, done both; and I have had both done to me. I prefer the mad glee of my beloved Culler, who loves me with such freedom, it is very likely mad; but I'd be a fool not to love him in return, and a greater fool, yet, if I was to discard him.
...Reputations are not everything, my dear. Reputations are but the ideas others have of us, and do not, necessarily, reflect Truths. Come, now; surely, in all your days and nights of listening to others spill their thoughts to you, in all of your many years of service to Vellichor, in all of the wild and wondrous things you read from days of yore, you know as well as I how this is true.
Why, reputations are like the dreams from which we wake, in which we think, are incredibly sure that we know - for instance - that a great and terrible battle has occurred, and we ~believe~ that this idea is entirely true, for we bear the marks of a great and terrible battle: bruises, broken bones, headaches and such.
But we know, too, that we cannot, must not believe everything our minds deign to allow us to see - nor to believe that what our minds deign for us to see is all that can be seen.
Some things, and often the greatest Truths of all, remain hidden from view, from knowing. At least for now.
Such is the nature of life. At least, for now; and likely, for all times - lest we fall into the temptation of believing we know all things, when we do not; lest we fall into the temptation of believing others know our thoughts, our hearts, when they see but fragments.
Written By Porter
May 23, 2020, 11:27 p.m.(5/7/1013 AR)
I heard a few murmurings about the name of House Kennex's newest caravel, won through a contest put on by Lady Juliana. Pirates Bane. If anyone wants to have some cold drinks in a tavern one night to discuss the long history of my family and our feelings on piracy, as well as my own personal adventures, I'll gladly meet with them. Send me your missives if you want to do more than whisper about it from across the room.
Written By Vulpiano
May 23, 2020, 10:54 p.m.(5/7/1013 AR)
Faith is a cornerstone of our identity and an immense aspect of our lives, noble or commoner. Since I will be staying in the city for some time, perhaps it's time I consider how some of my free time might be used to serve the Gods in my own limited way.
The question of how is, of course, the heart of it.
The question of how is, of course, the heart of it.
Written By Tolv
May 23, 2020, 10:08 p.m.(5/6/1013 AR)
I danced.
Written By Piccola
May 23, 2020, 9:02 p.m.(5/6/1013 AR)
I awoke in a daze this morning, comfortably laid out in a muddy alley.
I'm quite certain as to how I got there. A mixture of wistfulness and mead produces the sort of misery that usually leads to the gutter. Although I don't remember much of the evening before, I remember the good company I had prior the stupor I started the day in.
I did not think I would miss it as much as I do.
My nerves, blunted, feel fine. I feel fine. I feel better than I have in a long time. There is something lively about having the scent of dirt wedged into your nostrils. It is the most familiar smell I have sensed since coming to this city. I intend to become better acquainted with it.
I think I will ride my horse this afternoon, when I can keep food down.
I'm quite certain as to how I got there. A mixture of wistfulness and mead produces the sort of misery that usually leads to the gutter. Although I don't remember much of the evening before, I remember the good company I had prior the stupor I started the day in.
I did not think I would miss it as much as I do.
My nerves, blunted, feel fine. I feel fine. I feel better than I have in a long time. There is something lively about having the scent of dirt wedged into your nostrils. It is the most familiar smell I have sensed since coming to this city. I intend to become better acquainted with it.
I think I will ride my horse this afternoon, when I can keep food down.
Written By Mayir
May 23, 2020, 8:35 p.m.(5/6/1013 AR)
Well, what's the point of having a caravel ball if it's not actually on a caravel?
I'll pass.
I'll pass.
Written By Eirene
May 23, 2020, 8:16 p.m.(5/6/1013 AR)
Reported by Planchet, servant to Lady Eirene
Message as reported: Tell him fuck yes, always.
Message as sent: Lord <Redacted>, I am always interested in <redacted>. Please give me more information.
Message as reported: Tell him fuck yes, always.
Message as sent: Lord <Redacted>, I am always interested in <redacted>. Please give me more information.
Written By Corrigan
May 23, 2020, 8:02 p.m.(5/6/1013 AR)
It's funny how with certain Silks, the self-styled 'I don't see titles, I'm a man of the people' persona evaporates instantly if the Silk in question's not trying to fuck you.
Written By Calandra
May 23, 2020, 7:29 p.m.(5/6/1013 AR)
I had met the Softest Anisha. An accurate title for quite the gorgeous woman. She came to welcome me back into the House, and has since then been really helpful to my readjustment. She has also brought a couple of things to my attention, including the knowledge to seek out Count Tibault Laveer if I wish to help the Lowers. I will seek him out once I have the chance to.
Written By Calandra
May 23, 2020, 6:14 p.m.(5/6/1013 AR)
Oh Arx, it feels like I have been gone for too long. This will be a short entry for today. There is so much I have to do now that I have returned. So much to do, and so many to see. I cannot wait to see what will come of all of this.
Written By Sydney
May 23, 2020, 5:59 p.m.(5/6/1013 AR)
When you wish for interesting times, prepare yourself well for them.
They never arrive in the way we quite expect.
They never arrive in the way we quite expect.
Written By Aureth
May 23, 2020, 4:46 p.m.(5/6/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Joscelin
I see several of your friends writing about your memory lately. I hope, out there in the world, you remember the touch you had on all our hearts.
But I don't wish you any better aim.
But I don't wish you any better aim.
Written By Alexio
May 23, 2020, 2:51 p.m.(5/6/1013 AR)
I am concerned with the recent decline in the economy and the riots taking place around the more humble parts of the city. I have gained great wealth since my arrival to Arx; and, I believe it is time I give back. I have decided I shall be donating some of my wealth to the Crownsworn; and, providing my direct assitance to some of the efforts being made.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.