Written By Denica
June 11, 2023, 3:52 p.m.(12/21/1019 AR)
Art is less what we see with our eyes, but more what we feel with our whole being.
Written By Jan
June 11, 2023, 12:55 p.m.(12/21/1019 AR)
Fucking figures. Going all in crosses my mind and then it becomes clear it's a selfish choice. I have got to stop breaking own rules.
Written By Ida
June 11, 2023, 11:01 a.m.(12/21/1019 AR)
I tried something new in the shop. I mean, not NEW-new; I've been asked on occasion for a design sort of like them in the past. These, though, are definitely a different take. That may be it for crafting for the season, I think. With winter around the corner, it may be time to do some house-cleaning around here and get other things in order. Oaths and steel, I need to have my will updated. Half the people in the last version are no longer even around.
Written By Savio
June 11, 2023, 10:58 a.m.(12/21/1019 AR)
What a strange and freeing grief, to finally pluck the thorn, and to realize how much its pain had altered your step.
Written By Medeia
June 11, 2023, 9:27 a.m.(12/21/1019 AR)
The Longest Night brings with it a bedeviled mix of emotions this year. I am happy to celebrate my youngest's second birthday. However, there is so much that has happened, that has led to this moment, that surrounds my heart and mind. He is too little to understand the circumstances. I am not even certain that I do.
I do know that I look to Lagoma for guidance as I navigate the changes in my life. I stand fast in my devotion to my duties for house and Compact. I uphold the sacred nature of choice.
The days ahead will be brighter.
I do know that I look to Lagoma for guidance as I navigate the changes in my life. I stand fast in my devotion to my duties for house and Compact. I uphold the sacred nature of choice.
The days ahead will be brighter.
Written By Medeia
June 9, 2023, 2:53 p.m.(12/17/1019 AR)
I have prided myself on being someone open to different perspectives, someone willing to listen when I might be wrong. This openness does not always change my mind, but I think it is the mark of a strong person if one can learn and grow and recognize when they have been working without pieces of knowledge that are helpful.
It may take someone a long time to learn from others - even if they are otherwise brilliant. In fact, I suspect that being smart may be a slight hindrance to this process, as being smart has the chance of convincing one that they are correct about more than they are.
All this to say: I think I have been wrong about something. For years. In life-altering ways.
I pray I walk the difficult path ahead with grace.
It may take someone a long time to learn from others - even if they are otherwise brilliant. In fact, I suspect that being smart may be a slight hindrance to this process, as being smart has the chance of convincing one that they are correct about more than they are.
All this to say: I think I have been wrong about something. For years. In life-altering ways.
I pray I walk the difficult path ahead with grace.
Written By Titania
June 9, 2023, 2:25 p.m.(12/17/1019 AR)
In the realm of mystic lore, where the elements reside,
There's a goddess pure and bright, with grace she does abide.
Mangata, the goddess, of life, air, and water fair,
Her gentle touch upon the world, brings blessings everywhere.
Oh Mangata, goddess divine, with your ethereal glow,
Your presence brings serenity, like a gentle breeze's flow.
From the depths of the ocean to the skies up above,
We sing this song of reverence, for your eternal love.
She dances on the ocean waves, with moonlight as her guide,
Her silken robes trail softly, as she moves with gentle stride.
Her laughter echoes through the air, a melody so sweet,
Bringing harmony and peace, where discord used to meet.
Oh Mangata, goddess divine, with your ethereal glow,
Your presence brings serenity, like a gentle breeze's flow.
From the depths of the ocean to the skies up above,
We sing this song of reverence, for your eternal love.
She weaves the tapestry of life, with threads of liquid grace,
Breathing life into the world, in every sacred place.
She nourishes the land and sea, with every drop of rain,
A symbol of renewal, of hope that will sustain.
In her eyes, the wisdom shines, of ages gone before,
She's the guardian of the earth, forever we adore.
With every breath we take, the air she freely gives,
A reminder of the gift of life, in which each being lives.
Oh Mangata, goddess divine, with your ethereal glow,
Your presence brings serenity, like a gentle breeze's flow.
From the depths of the ocean to the skies up above,
We sing this song of reverence, for your eternal love.
So let us honor Mangata, the goddess we hold dear,
For her grace and boundless love, let our voices cheer.
May her light forever guide us, through each passing day,
As we journey through this life, in Mangata's loving sway.
There's a goddess pure and bright, with grace she does abide.
Mangata, the goddess, of life, air, and water fair,
Her gentle touch upon the world, brings blessings everywhere.
Oh Mangata, goddess divine, with your ethereal glow,
Your presence brings serenity, like a gentle breeze's flow.
From the depths of the ocean to the skies up above,
We sing this song of reverence, for your eternal love.
She dances on the ocean waves, with moonlight as her guide,
Her silken robes trail softly, as she moves with gentle stride.
Her laughter echoes through the air, a melody so sweet,
Bringing harmony and peace, where discord used to meet.
Oh Mangata, goddess divine, with your ethereal glow,
Your presence brings serenity, like a gentle breeze's flow.
From the depths of the ocean to the skies up above,
We sing this song of reverence, for your eternal love.
She weaves the tapestry of life, with threads of liquid grace,
Breathing life into the world, in every sacred place.
She nourishes the land and sea, with every drop of rain,
A symbol of renewal, of hope that will sustain.
In her eyes, the wisdom shines, of ages gone before,
She's the guardian of the earth, forever we adore.
With every breath we take, the air she freely gives,
A reminder of the gift of life, in which each being lives.
Oh Mangata, goddess divine, with your ethereal glow,
Your presence brings serenity, like a gentle breeze's flow.
From the depths of the ocean to the skies up above,
We sing this song of reverence, for your eternal love.
So let us honor Mangata, the goddess we hold dear,
For her grace and boundless love, let our voices cheer.
May her light forever guide us, through each passing day,
As we journey through this life, in Mangata's loving sway.
Written By Mattheu
June 8, 2023, 9:27 a.m.(12/15/1019 AR)
It is really unfortunate that the plushie met its demise by my hand. However for what I was aiming for and how the javelin soared to get there? That was a marvelous shot. Surprised me even.
Lady Medeia and Lady Titania did an amazing job in the competition as well, and no Lady Medeia, we're not offering lip service. I really do believe that competition is against ourselves and our best to this point.
When we are in spar with another we're seeking how to better our defenses and attacks. When we are aiming for targets at top of yard arms, we are against ourselves.
Lady Medeia and Lady Titania did an amazing job in the competition as well, and no Lady Medeia, we're not offering lip service. I really do believe that competition is against ourselves and our best to this point.
When we are in spar with another we're seeking how to better our defenses and attacks. When we are aiming for targets at top of yard arms, we are against ourselves.
Written By Cillian
June 6, 2023, 10:08 p.m.(12/12/1019 AR)
Relationship Note on Ian
In a realm of mystic wonders, where legends come alive,
There lived a noble knight, with a spirit so bright,
Sir Ian, the Mushroom Knight, true and wise.
From humble beginnings, his tale did unfold,
A simple spore, in a world so vast and bold,
Beneath the forest canopy, he began to grow,
With roots deep in the earth, his courage would show.
His armor, a shade of mossy green,
Adorned with mushrooms, a magnificent scene,
Each toadstool a symbol of nature's might,
Guiding Sir Ian through darkness and light.
With a shield made of bark, strong and true,
He defended the innocent, both old and new,
His sword, a blade of ethereal gleam,
Slicing through shadows, a radiant beam.
Through enchanted woods and misty glades,
Sir Ian ventured, on daring escapades,
Protecting the woodland creatures, big and small,
Answering nature's call, he would never fall.
His heart, pure as crystal, shone through the trees,
In tune with the whispers of the forest breeze,
He fought with honor, for justice and right,
A beacon of hope, in the darkest of night.
With wisdom and grace, he led the way,
In harmony with nature, he'd always stay,
For the Mushroom Knight understood the worth,
Of preserving the balance of our precious Earth.
And so, the legend of Sir Ian did grow,
A hero of nature, for all to know,
In tales and songs, his name forever sung,
The Mushroom Knight, his journey never done.
For in the heart of every mushroom spore,
Lies the potential for something more,
A reminder to us all, big or small,
That greatness can sprout, wherever we may fall.
So let us remember Sir Ian's brave plight,
And strive to be guardians of nature's light,
For in unity and love, we shall find,
A world where mushroom knights forever shine.
There lived a noble knight, with a spirit so bright,
Sir Ian, the Mushroom Knight, true and wise.
From humble beginnings, his tale did unfold,
A simple spore, in a world so vast and bold,
Beneath the forest canopy, he began to grow,
With roots deep in the earth, his courage would show.
His armor, a shade of mossy green,
Adorned with mushrooms, a magnificent scene,
Each toadstool a symbol of nature's might,
Guiding Sir Ian through darkness and light.
With a shield made of bark, strong and true,
He defended the innocent, both old and new,
His sword, a blade of ethereal gleam,
Slicing through shadows, a radiant beam.
Through enchanted woods and misty glades,
Sir Ian ventured, on daring escapades,
Protecting the woodland creatures, big and small,
Answering nature's call, he would never fall.
His heart, pure as crystal, shone through the trees,
In tune with the whispers of the forest breeze,
He fought with honor, for justice and right,
A beacon of hope, in the darkest of night.
With wisdom and grace, he led the way,
In harmony with nature, he'd always stay,
For the Mushroom Knight understood the worth,
Of preserving the balance of our precious Earth.
And so, the legend of Sir Ian did grow,
A hero of nature, for all to know,
In tales and songs, his name forever sung,
The Mushroom Knight, his journey never done.
For in the heart of every mushroom spore,
Lies the potential for something more,
A reminder to us all, big or small,
That greatness can sprout, wherever we may fall.
So let us remember Sir Ian's brave plight,
And strive to be guardians of nature's light,
For in unity and love, we shall find,
A world where mushroom knights forever shine.
Written By Cillian
June 6, 2023, 8:10 p.m.(12/12/1019 AR)
Relationship Note on Pasquale
In a realm of whimsy and mystical might,
Where the forest whispers secrets at night,
There lived a lord, Pasquale by name,
A noble Mushroom, of glory and fame.
Lord Pasquale, the Mushroom Lord so fair,
With a cap like velvet, of vibrant flare,
His spores like stardust, shimmering bright,
He ruled over fungi, a regal sight.
In moonlit glades, where enchantment grew,
Lord Pasquale's kingdom, a magical hue,
His subjects, the mushrooms, loyal and true,
Beneath his reign, in harmony they'd strew.
With each gentle step, he'd grace the ground,
Mystical powers in his presence found,
Whispering secrets to the ancient trees,
Unlocking nature's wonders with gentle ease.
Oh, Lord Pasquale, revered and adored,
Protector of nature, beloved and restored,
His wisdom bloomed like petals in spring,
Guiding his kingdom with a gentle wing.
His courtiers danced with grace and delight,
As moonbeams bathed them in soft moonlight,
They swayed and twirled to nature's sweet song,
In Lord Pasquale's realm, where they belong.
The seasons shifted, as they often do,
Yet Pasquale's realm remained steadfast and true,
Through summer's warmth and winter's chill,
His kingdom thrived, untouched and still.
But time, relentless, does not cease to flow,
And even for lords, its currents will sow,
The day arrived, when Lord Pasquale knew,
His reign must end, bidding a fond adieu.
With grace and poise, he took his last stand,
Passing his crown with an outstretched hand,
To a young sprout, a worthy heir,
Ensuring his legacy, forever to share.
Now, his legend lives on in whispered tales,
Of Lord Pasquale's kingdom, where beauty prevails,
A Mushroom Lord, with a heart so kind,
Forever engraved in the tapestry of time.
Where the forest whispers secrets at night,
There lived a lord, Pasquale by name,
A noble Mushroom, of glory and fame.
Lord Pasquale, the Mushroom Lord so fair,
With a cap like velvet, of vibrant flare,
His spores like stardust, shimmering bright,
He ruled over fungi, a regal sight.
In moonlit glades, where enchantment grew,
Lord Pasquale's kingdom, a magical hue,
His subjects, the mushrooms, loyal and true,
Beneath his reign, in harmony they'd strew.
With each gentle step, he'd grace the ground,
Mystical powers in his presence found,
Whispering secrets to the ancient trees,
Unlocking nature's wonders with gentle ease.
Oh, Lord Pasquale, revered and adored,
Protector of nature, beloved and restored,
His wisdom bloomed like petals in spring,
Guiding his kingdom with a gentle wing.
His courtiers danced with grace and delight,
As moonbeams bathed them in soft moonlight,
They swayed and twirled to nature's sweet song,
In Lord Pasquale's realm, where they belong.
The seasons shifted, as they often do,
Yet Pasquale's realm remained steadfast and true,
Through summer's warmth and winter's chill,
His kingdom thrived, untouched and still.
But time, relentless, does not cease to flow,
And even for lords, its currents will sow,
The day arrived, when Lord Pasquale knew,
His reign must end, bidding a fond adieu.
With grace and poise, he took his last stand,
Passing his crown with an outstretched hand,
To a young sprout, a worthy heir,
Ensuring his legacy, forever to share.
Now, his legend lives on in whispered tales,
Of Lord Pasquale's kingdom, where beauty prevails,
A Mushroom Lord, with a heart so kind,
Forever engraved in the tapestry of time.
Written By Ida
June 6, 2023, 6:23 a.m.(12/11/1019 AR)
The shop is mostly empty once again, which I should do something about. It's been a sort of rough month and I guess my inspiration is a bit lacking. While my personal respect and fondness will never change, a social relationship I greatly valued had to be severed. I have been incredibly lucky to have had such amazing patrons - Prince Edain Valardin when I first came to the city and then Princess Tikva Grayson.
Part of me wonders if I might be bad luck for those who sign on, but that's probably silly. Regardless, both will always have my loyalty and respect despite how the world has changed our paths.
Part of me wonders if I might be bad luck for those who sign on, but that's probably silly. Regardless, both will always have my loyalty and respect despite how the world has changed our paths.
Written By Jan
June 4, 2023, 7:02 p.m.(12/8/1019 AR)
I agreed to co-host a Masquerade. At least Titania is excited about taking me shopping, may the gods be merciful, maybe it won't be so bad.
Written By Jan
June 4, 2023, 7:01 p.m.(12/8/1019 AR)
I am learning what I can of battles of old but there is a reference to an ancient sword from before the reckoning and I imagine it's destroyed along with most everything else from that era but I can't resist being curious. It isn't the sort of thing I ought to post in a classified so time to ask around and spend more time in the library.
Written By Vandorean
June 4, 2023, 6:10 p.m.(12/8/1019 AR)
Maybe I should become a bard as well as a knight?
Written By Vandorean
June 4, 2023, 6:09 p.m.(12/8/1019 AR)
The Honey Festival was amazing and though I did not win, my bee stinging skills are much improved.
Written By Mattheu
June 4, 2023, 1:50 p.m.(12/7/1019 AR)
It's a strange world in which I have been on the outside of even the lowers. My siblings have worked with and employed those families before we took knee. It is a worthy ability to be able to see what those that would thumb their noses at us from being greater than us to now thumbing to us for the ennoblement which comes with taking knee.
It's a never winning direction between families and class of the city.
The amusement of how choice spins us as one and individuals
It's a never winning direction between families and class of the city.
The amusement of how choice spins us as one and individuals
Written By Raymesin
June 4, 2023, 5:49 a.m.(12/7/1019 AR)
And while I'm at it, why were there so many silks at a commoner feast? Some of them are often seen about the Lowers, drinking and talking with us like we're real people - I've no problem with them showing up for the good days as well as the bad - but some of those others I've never seen outside the Wards before. Don't they have enough parties to go to already? Are their larders so bare that they need to come to us for food? Isn't it embarrassing for them to be seen in the company of the ne'er-do-wells and street scum of the Lowers, to endure the scraping and whistling and thumping of our music when they have perfectly good troubadors at home, to eat stew and bread when their chefs make delicacy after delicacy to delight the palate?
Don't they remember that the Lowers aren't safe for the likes of them?
Don't they remember that the Lowers aren't safe for the likes of them?
Written By Raymesin
June 4, 2023, 5:38 a.m.(12/7/1019 AR)
Who brings the Inquisition to a Crownsworn commoner celebration in the Lowers? You might as well scream at the top of your voice that we have no meaning or worth in your eyes, that our feelings are immaterial and our pain does not exist. For generations we've known that success without title brings the Hoods to your door, to confiscate all you have up to and including your life. For generations we've lived in fear of the knock on the door, knowing that innocence is no defence against the torturers and thieves to whom the King has lent his authority.
They've tried to tell me that the Inquisition is different now, that since the end of Shreve it's been cleaned up and is no longer corrupt. And yet since then I myself have been threatened by an Inquisitor with exactly the same things that so many others have faced. I was informed that if I didn't answer a question I did not know the answer to it would go hard with me, and I would never again see the light of day. That my wife would be left a widow, and that I would end my few remaining days in agony - and all I'd done to earn this treatment was fight at the side of the Carnifex to save a Princess.
The Inquisition have caused generations of pain and fear and hatred. Why, then, would the Inquisition expect that we would be pleased to see them at one of our celebrations? Are our lives not hard enough, without that spectre at our feasts? We do not need to be reminded that in a world where title is everything, we are nothing. And if I vanish into the Hall of Questions after writing this journal, then may the Sentinel curse them all with seeing the truth of what they do.
They've tried to tell me that the Inquisition is different now, that since the end of Shreve it's been cleaned up and is no longer corrupt. And yet since then I myself have been threatened by an Inquisitor with exactly the same things that so many others have faced. I was informed that if I didn't answer a question I did not know the answer to it would go hard with me, and I would never again see the light of day. That my wife would be left a widow, and that I would end my few remaining days in agony - and all I'd done to earn this treatment was fight at the side of the Carnifex to save a Princess.
The Inquisition have caused generations of pain and fear and hatred. Why, then, would the Inquisition expect that we would be pleased to see them at one of our celebrations? Are our lives not hard enough, without that spectre at our feasts? We do not need to be reminded that in a world where title is everything, we are nothing. And if I vanish into the Hall of Questions after writing this journal, then may the Sentinel curse them all with seeing the truth of what they do.
Written By Ann
June 3, 2023, 3:33 p.m.(12/5/1019 AR)
The scholar event was enjoyable. Lord Agric is a good host. It was nice to be able to mingle with like minded people and see who the other scholars are of the compact. I look forward to another scholarly event. I do not think I'll be disappointed.
Written By Mabelle
June 3, 2023, 9:57 a.m.(12/5/1019 AR)
With recent talks of marriage in my surroundings, ,it has not escpaed my attention. If anything, all I could think of was having someone carry on my work and legacy. Maybe its not a bad idea.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.