Written By Mabelle
July 30, 2019, 12:05 a.m.(7/21/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Flavien
Congratulations my darling. The sense of duty is ever firmer when given a title you must uphold an live up to expectations of it.
Who would have thought us two, once running away from tutors and hiding, would achieve such?
Written By Harlex
July 29, 2019, 10:57 p.m.(7/21/1011 AR)
It was a county issue until, during a theft, he kicked a farmer in the head while fleeing on horseback and the man died from the fall.
They brought us freelance hunters in to settle it up quick and we did. Cornered him where a creak hit up against a cliff too flat to climb. He gave up easy, he knew the score.
We all did.
That night we sat by the fire with Murgen in his irons. He told us three jokes. One about a man and his goat, another about a silk who didn't know a cow from a bull, and a third about a Godsworn Priest and a demon who kept knocking over his soup. Last one went on for a bit too long. I always think jokes should be short, to the point.
Let him drink his fill on some gin we brought to celebrate. He could really sing. At least, when we were drunk enough, he sounded like he could sing. One of the other hunters had a lute and gave him a tune or two.
Talked about our homes. He said he grew up in a tannery not far from the old farmstead. I didn't interrogate it, maybe it was a lie.
In the morning he woke us up with his prayers and we took him back to the barracks where they hanged him for the murder. It was over quickly. But before he died he turned to the three of us and he said, "Thanks."
And I still think about that now and then.
Written By Victus
July 29, 2019, 9:55 p.m.(7/21/1011 AR)
It was a shame I couldn't meet Duke Ivan in person. I had hoped giving the good Duke a few weeks notice would have allowed plenty of time to prepare. Alas, the work of nobility is never done. I was pleased to hear that his time is being spent on a worthy cause, massively increasing his naval power and heavily militarizing Helianthus' capital. Certainly all that time and resources will be spent defending the Mourning Isles against any incursions from the east. I commend him on focusing on such a worthy cause.
I had the great pleasure of speaking with Duke Ivan's newly appointed Voice, Melar. A man that was freed via some of my earlier reforms. It was very flattering to see the fruits of labor in person. To think, this man was the son of someone who slaughtered a Maelstrom village remorselessly. Now he serves as the right hand of a ducal house. Truly inspiring to see such commitment to progress.
Great toasts were had, many celebrations of House Thrax and Helianthus' future relations. I am appreciative for the company of all forty representatives that arrived to meet us. I'm anticipating the opportunity to speak to Duke Ivan face to face all the more after such a gracious hosting.
Written By Bhandn
July 29, 2019, 9:47 p.m.(7/21/1011 AR)
I hope I can do it well enough to show something for it. I'm not sure what I even mean by this. It's a good thing, what I'm about to undertake, but it feels so awkward to be the one managing it, the one who has to make the decisions of what to do, where to do it, how, all of it.
May Gild and Lagoma find favor in my undertaking.
Written By Willow
July 29, 2019, 7:44 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Eiran
I am so pleased to have been able to share a few of these with this young man. He speaks to the heart of who I was before I had to don the veil I have worn for well over a year now. I hope to enjoy his company again sometime soon. Hopefully in private again, so I am not torn between being a hundred percent recklessly myself and acting as the Voice I have been named.
Written By Elisha
July 29, 2019, 7:13 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Brianna
The prison does not consist of this, but of relationships between the measurements of its space and the events of its past: the height of a watchtower and the distance from the ground of a hanged heretic's swaying feet; the depth of the well and the volume of water necessary to cover the loyal cultist, the height of a railing and the leap of Archscholar Py, who climbed over it at dawn.
Sitting beneath well-seasoned sausages dangling in the kitchen, the architect designs cells for three Fractals who forever pursued death and who were forever disappointed, falling instead into the embrace of mere oblivion. Sapphire, the shapeshifter, is trapped in a cell open to the sky, her power to remake herself torn away. Ruby, the courtier, is secreted in a silent hall with no company save herself. And the scholar is condemned to unchanging, unrelenting darkness in the mausoleum in the graveyard of Arx that bears his name: Onyx.
On the dock
jutting from the breakwater
beyond caer'bijou's walls,
three old women tell each other the story
of the heretic,
who loved the cultist
whom the archscholar still visits
in the warm shade
of the highest battlement.
Written By Samantha
July 29, 2019, 5:53 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
Tradition is something that should be respected, but one must always look at it with an understanding that any tradition that keeps one from moving forward will result in stagnation, not growth. As times change, as the understanding of who we are as people grows and we further enlighten ourselves in understanding of this world, we must consider new choices, make changes, and be willing to embrace adaptation as a means to survive and thrive.
If the choices I make result in a thriving, healthy populace that is economically strong while being mindful of the resources of the land, allowing all who seek opportunity to have the chance to prosper, then in my heart I believe I am doing as Duke Gabriel and Duchess Iona have taught me.
I know that an open hand has yielded far better results than a mailed fist where the safety and security of the Crownlands and Arx are concerned. When violence has been called for, it is decisive, swift, and necessary.
I am so greatful to have Rymarr Deepwood as my husband. I am grateful to my Bisland family, to my friends, my vassals, and to Whisper House for coming to our aid as we sought to resolve what would have been a brutal military action if it had come to it.
And now...the next challenge.
Written By Ras
July 29, 2019, 5:22 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
But we shouldn't take them for granted. Everybody can bleed.
...
Next time I mess up, I'll deal with stuff myself. Nobody I care about should bleed because of me.
Written By Cassima
July 29, 2019, 5:15 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
Written By Cabrera
July 29, 2019, 4:09 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Astrid
Written By Monique
July 29, 2019, 4:01 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
Written By Miranda
July 29, 2019, 1:36 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Dariel
I think that he may not enjoy my sense of humor. Something about my pranks getting old.
Whatever.
You will have to teach me the art of relaxation.
For Pookie!
Written By Thea
July 29, 2019, 1:25 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Arcadia
Written By Miranda
July 29, 2019, 1:08 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Dariel
I think that he may not enjoy my sense of humor. Something about my pranks getting old.
Whatever.
You will have to teach me the art of relaxation.
For Pookie!
- by The Pookiebane
Written By Miranda
July 29, 2019, 1:02 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Eddard
A shrub, you say? It will be the most beautiful shrub I have.
Just don't ask me to wear it.
Think of the chafing...
Written By Catalana
July 29, 2019, 12:19 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Wash
Lord Wash. You are no diplomat. You are passion and fire and have a love of the sea that rivals any born to it. But that is why we work so well.
I am so very glad you chose for me to be your wife.
Written By Selene
July 29, 2019, 12:08 p.m.(7/20/1011 AR)
We all speak a common tongue, and yet we all express the matters differently. I find it rewarding to admire the creative spark in others, and finding those hidden treasures.
Written By Shard
July 29, 2019, 6:06 a.m.(7/19/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Sparte
Written By Behtuk
July 29, 2019, 1:57 a.m.(7/19/1011 AR)
My father used to tell me of the Lady of the Ice. The Lady of the Ice was once a woman with no children. She prayed to the winds that they would bring her children. The East wind answered and brought her a child, with hair as dark as a bear's nose, and eyes as bright as a summer star. The woman rejoiced for she had a child at last. Then the West wind came. It found the woman had a child and whispered to her. The West wind told the woman: "You have asked me for a child, and I scoured the earth looking for the best child ever born to give to you." The woman was sad, because she already had a child, and it was not allowed for her to have two. There would not be enough for both children. She told the West wind to give the child to someone else. And the West Wind answered: "I will give the child to someone else. Her hair is as golden as sunrise. Her eyes as green as still water." The woman sorrowed, for it sounded like a beautiful baby. She asked where the child would go. "Somewhere south." Answered the West Wind. "When she is grown, men will fight over her. A war. Many men, killing because such a perfect child comes among them." The woman sorrowed a third time and asked the West Wind to give her the baby. "But you cannot have two children." Said the West Wind. So the woman took her first child, with the black hair and the bright eyes, and she hid him under the ice. She told the West Wind that her baby had drowned. She asked the West Wind to give her the baby it had found. The West wind laughed and flew away leaving her with nothing. The woman cried out and dove into the water. She searched under the ice for her baby with the black hair and the bright eyes. She searched so long that the sun set behind her, and the ice sealed over her. She is still searching.
If you hear knocking under the ice while you walk, that is the Lady of the Ice searching for her baby. Stop and lay down, crawl, do not walk, or the Lady of the Ice will take you away.
Written By Calandra
July 29, 2019, 1:35 a.m.(7/19/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Bree
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.