Written By Ida
Jan. 12, 2019, 10:31 a.m.(5/6/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Austen
It was such an honor to be allowed to watch the ceremony in which my brother gave his oath and joined the Silver Swords. Proud does not really cover it and for as much grief as I tend to give him, I admit that I feel somewhat humbled that I get to share a name with him. Somewhat, probably not for long, but still.
Written By Beatrice
Jan. 12, 2019, 10:08 a.m.(5/6/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Cassia
Cities are dreams, and no two are the same. Would you bottle them? What discriminating clientele you must have. Of course, you could steal only the best sides. Nilanza is cumin and honey and oranges tossed by sea air, salt and warmth. Stolid Arx, roses and slate, coffee and a thousand shades of ale, somehow sweet and not at all at once. But we know that cities and dreams are more than beauty. They blossom from simple things, important things, that may never appear at the salon, may never grace the pages of a Grayson's book of poetry. Would you bottle those too?
Written By Ysbail
Jan. 12, 2019, 6:58 a.m.(5/6/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Eilonwy
You've done so much for our house, I only hope I'm able to live up to the faith you've put in me.
Written By Ysbail
Jan. 12, 2019, 6:56 a.m.(5/6/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Sorrel
Princess you are one of my favorite historians to talk to, your keen mind and willingness to share your knowledge and gifts with the compact is truly inspiring.
Written By Ysbail
Jan. 12, 2019, 6:54 a.m.(5/6/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Jasher
You are a kind and engaging soul when you want to be. I've come to value your keen mind.
Written By Ysbail
Jan. 12, 2019, 6:50 a.m.(5/6/1010 AR)
It is a scary thing to carry the weight of a house on your shoulders, I can only strive to live up to the faith my adoptive sister has put in me. Especially in these struggling times.
Written By Athaur
Jan. 12, 2019, 6:47 a.m.(5/6/1010 AR)
It is good to know that in these troubling times you can still enjoy a quiet drink and make some new connections. I look forward to sharing more drinks with the people I met this evening.
Written By Cassia
Jan. 12, 2019, 2:35 a.m.(5/6/1010 AR)
What does a dream smell like? What does a city smell like?
Written By Orrin
Jan. 12, 2019, 1:34 a.m.(5/6/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Kaldur
Kaldur has taken ill - or has succumbed to a fatigue I can only imagine - and rests with his intended looking on. I worry for him, which is no new thing, but more deeply of late.
Written By Silas
Jan. 12, 2019, 1:12 a.m.(5/5/1010 AR)
Awhile ago, I assisted Marquessa Deepwood in one of her many shav'arvani outreach endeavors. As a result, a smattering of abandoned arrived in Hawkhold with the intention of bending the knee. I suspect they were our unknown neighbors for quite some time.
They did not receive a warm welcome. The villagers have been subjected to abandoned raids in the past, those wounds do not easily heal, and these were people did not look like them. There was no shortage of complaints and threats, but they were ordered to leave them be. Thankfully, they chose not to disobey that command.
The complaints slowly dwindled and the threats stopped. Merely living in the proximity of strangers has a way of making people realize we're not terrifically different and we're all waging the same struggle. The unknown became knowable. They are part of the community now.
And that is why I opted to contribute to the Great Road when Lord Seliki sent his proposal. Communication - trade - is key in making strangers acquaintances, acquaintances friends, and so forth. I sent our military forces to guard our contribution to the project, aware there could be brigands or worse in the woods, but thankfully it was a bloodless adventure. We certainly had no intention, or certainly would not, build through already settled villages. It doesn't even make sense to do so from a coldly rational standpoint: uprooting and displacing entire communities rightly infuriates them, and the very road being built would grant this justifably angry mob easier accessibility to your own holdings and interfere with any trade you hope to direct your way. It literally defeats it's purpose.
Unless, of course, the true purpose behind building the road is to provoke war - under the thin veneer of respectability and progress.
Unfortunately, not every stranger is trustworthy.
They did not receive a warm welcome. The villagers have been subjected to abandoned raids in the past, those wounds do not easily heal, and these were people did not look like them. There was no shortage of complaints and threats, but they were ordered to leave them be. Thankfully, they chose not to disobey that command.
The complaints slowly dwindled and the threats stopped. Merely living in the proximity of strangers has a way of making people realize we're not terrifically different and we're all waging the same struggle. The unknown became knowable. They are part of the community now.
And that is why I opted to contribute to the Great Road when Lord Seliki sent his proposal. Communication - trade - is key in making strangers acquaintances, acquaintances friends, and so forth. I sent our military forces to guard our contribution to the project, aware there could be brigands or worse in the woods, but thankfully it was a bloodless adventure. We certainly had no intention, or certainly would not, build through already settled villages. It doesn't even make sense to do so from a coldly rational standpoint: uprooting and displacing entire communities rightly infuriates them, and the very road being built would grant this justifably angry mob easier accessibility to your own holdings and interfere with any trade you hope to direct your way. It literally defeats it's purpose.
Unless, of course, the true purpose behind building the road is to provoke war - under the thin veneer of respectability and progress.
Unfortunately, not every stranger is trustworthy.
Written By Shard
Jan. 12, 2019, 1:02 a.m.(5/5/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Reigna
When I first heard that story told, I heard it differently. I heard it differently from a number of different storytellers, from different tribes. The Compact stories say that those who didn't go to Arx, who didn't agree to the Compact, were cowards, or on the side of the demons. The Compact stories say, in essence, that the Abandoned /abandoned/ the people of the Compact in their time of greatest need. Abandoned stories say the Compact left them to die. If they have a personal, tribal history that reaches that far back, they'll tell you how they stayed to protect their lands and people. How they were cut off by demon armies and couldn't get to where humanity was gathering. Or how they were forced to fight alone against impossible numbers. Some, I assume, have stories about how they came to worship their new gods or masters, but those weren't tribes mine ever traded or camped with. Demon cults don't usually care very much who they're preying on.
But there are other stories too. Other histories. Some people fought to protect the new Compact from the Reckoning, but fought so long that when the fighting finally stopped, they and the Compact were strangers. Some went behind enemy lines to harry the enemy while others marched for Arx. Some were your people, or your allies, a long, long time ago. I'll share some of these stories with you, someday, if you want.
But the Compact makes no allowances for history. All the land belongs to them, even though a thousand years have passed. All tribes must bend the knee, nevermind old feuds, old alliances, nevermind the changes that they've had to make for survival, nevermind how much blood has now been spilled between them. Nevermind how much peoples have changed, what they've sacrificed to survive, or how they now live. You're right; a long, long time ago most of the Abandoned were a part of these kingdoms. A long, long time ago, we were all mostly one people.
But if you break a pot, and you leave pieces of it in your house, and pieces of it in a river, and pieces of it outside in the snow and the rain and the sun, eventually when you go to gather them all up again, even if you find each and every piece of that pot, they won't be the same exact shape that they were before. You can make something new with them, if you're creative and careful. But they will never be the pot they once were. And pot shards don't have the problem that they've all been killing each other for centuries.
I don't know where my tribe originally came from. If there's a story they've held onto that long, I never learned it. As far back as the stories I did hear went, we had always roamed the North, following the herds and forging our own hunting trails. My people were not farmers, or blacksmiths, or builders. My people didn't herd animals or live in houses. We were hunters and the whole wild was open to us. I don't deny that bending the knee, for them, would come with benefits. They wouldn't have to worry about soldiers. They might have protection against hostile tribes. There wouldn't be as much a risk of starving. But what would be the cost? I ask that honestly. We didn't live in any way like you. No kings or nobles or enormous stone cities. My people would cease to be who they are, and have been, and love being. And they wanted that enough, and feared you enough, that I'm not sure they'd ever be willing to give it all up, for the sake of how someone else thinks they should exist.
But I think we both agree that more violence only makes the possibility that much harder.
But there are other stories too. Other histories. Some people fought to protect the new Compact from the Reckoning, but fought so long that when the fighting finally stopped, they and the Compact were strangers. Some went behind enemy lines to harry the enemy while others marched for Arx. Some were your people, or your allies, a long, long time ago. I'll share some of these stories with you, someday, if you want.
But the Compact makes no allowances for history. All the land belongs to them, even though a thousand years have passed. All tribes must bend the knee, nevermind old feuds, old alliances, nevermind the changes that they've had to make for survival, nevermind how much blood has now been spilled between them. Nevermind how much peoples have changed, what they've sacrificed to survive, or how they now live. You're right; a long, long time ago most of the Abandoned were a part of these kingdoms. A long, long time ago, we were all mostly one people.
But if you break a pot, and you leave pieces of it in your house, and pieces of it in a river, and pieces of it outside in the snow and the rain and the sun, eventually when you go to gather them all up again, even if you find each and every piece of that pot, they won't be the same exact shape that they were before. You can make something new with them, if you're creative and careful. But they will never be the pot they once were. And pot shards don't have the problem that they've all been killing each other for centuries.
I don't know where my tribe originally came from. If there's a story they've held onto that long, I never learned it. As far back as the stories I did hear went, we had always roamed the North, following the herds and forging our own hunting trails. My people were not farmers, or blacksmiths, or builders. My people didn't herd animals or live in houses. We were hunters and the whole wild was open to us. I don't deny that bending the knee, for them, would come with benefits. They wouldn't have to worry about soldiers. They might have protection against hostile tribes. There wouldn't be as much a risk of starving. But what would be the cost? I ask that honestly. We didn't live in any way like you. No kings or nobles or enormous stone cities. My people would cease to be who they are, and have been, and love being. And they wanted that enough, and feared you enough, that I'm not sure they'd ever be willing to give it all up, for the sake of how someone else thinks they should exist.
But I think we both agree that more violence only makes the possibility that much harder.
Written By Vercyn
Jan. 12, 2019, 12:25 a.m.(5/5/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Mirk
Well said and plainly stated Nephew. Though you do not speak for our house, you echo our sentiments. The Road has been a Boon for Whitehold, even if others have used it to push their own grudges and desires for glory.
Written By Alrec
Jan. 12, 2019, 12:01 a.m.(5/5/1010 AR)
Captain's Log: We got way too fucked up to face that storm. For a moment I thought I was going to wipe most of the Pravus line. Good luck explaining that but no, we made it safe and sound. Ready to visit my house and be with my woman, see my business and drink some of Venturo's wine.
Written By Monique
Jan. 11, 2019, 9:50 p.m.(5/5/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Etienne
Happy birthday to the most wonderful man I have ever met. I promise, your present is not just me (though of course that would be gift enough).
Written By Gilroy
Jan. 11, 2019, 9:36 p.m.(5/5/1010 AR)
I did such a good job of talking up Sir Corban you'd almost think I'd met the man.
Written By Carmen
Jan. 11, 2019, 8:01 p.m.(5/5/1010 AR)
I've known too many good people who never learn how to fight off someone who means to do them harm. They think they can't or they're too busy or they think fighting is bad.
I'm not saying training would have helped in all of this. I wasn't there (and that's a whole other problem). But I hope people know they can learn, if they want to - and they should. It's a dangerous world.
I'm not saying training would have helped in all of this. I wasn't there (and that's a whole other problem). But I hope people know they can learn, if they want to - and they should. It's a dangerous world.
Written By Kedehern
Jan. 11, 2019, 7:33 p.m.(5/5/1010 AR)
There are some people, it seems, for whom the whites are only used to attack their fellows, and pretend that it makes them their fellow's superiors.
Written By Macda
Jan. 11, 2019, 6:58 p.m.(5/5/1010 AR)
-
All that rises under the Moon will rot.
Time and each other have men fought,
Yet stars remind of the cycle taught.
Cold lonely night burns in fatal day,
Upon his chest, her head did lay.
Swimming in smoke until she forgot,
Whispered words of secrets sought.
Cast out echoes filled with praise,
A perfection of pleasure is the way.
Her persuasive song secures an accord,
Blood and word, he does easily afford.
A climbing rose seeking a sun's power,
Yields strangling coils in night's hour.
Neglect not Dawn's required forethought.
All that rises under the Moon will rot.
Time and each other have men fought,
Yet stars remind of the cycle taught.
Cold lonely night burns in fatal day,
Upon his chest, her head did lay.
Swimming in smoke until she forgot,
Whispered words of secrets sought.
Cast out echoes filled with praise,
A perfection of pleasure is the way.
Her persuasive song secures an accord,
Blood and word, he does easily afford.
A climbing rose seeking a sun's power,
Yields strangling coils in night's hour.
Neglect not Dawn's required forethought.
Written By Perronne
Jan. 11, 2019, 6:51 p.m.(5/5/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Laric
No one ever really understands. I did not expect him to understand, but he does! It is a tremendous discovery, like if you spent your life chasing a pink duck - not because it was a magic duck, or proof of your rightful rule of the Kingdom of Duck, or anything like that, but like if it was just a duck that was pink and that was /fascinating/, but whenever you tried to explain to people why the duck was fascinating, you'd just get a lot of weird looks, and a suggestion that you'd be better off looking for fire-breathing horses instead, because at least fire-breathing horses are useful.
But Prince Laric understands the inherent fascinating qualities of pink ducks!
It's really pretty amazing.
But Prince Laric understands the inherent fascinating qualities of pink ducks!
It's really pretty amazing.
Written By Aureth
Jan. 11, 2019, 6:51 p.m.(5/5/1010 AR)
A prayer to Thirteen:
We remember that the light of the pilgrims is compassion for others. Commerce is growth in your own pockets commensurate with growth in another's, and both of you profit thereby. A thoughtless reach for wealth is not an embrace of prosperity, but its empty, hollow echoes. Wealth in and of itself is no wickedness, but wealth pursued by means that forget the needs of others reflects no virtue. Do not forget what your wealth means, nor what it is for, nor why we perform gifts and charity.
We do not forget that blood spilled for its own sake is no glory. We embrace an honor that remembers the humanity of our opponents, and reject accolades earned spent in the deaths of children. We reject utterly those who would kill an unarmed opponent, an innocent, a child. We reject and condemn those who murder recklessly, with abandon, without thought to the honor of the act, or to the identity of their victims. I condemn you for this if you treat acts of slaughter as acts of honorable warfare.
We remember that an act of creation, an act of creativity, is an essential act of hope, a celebration of our better natures. We reject the feeling of helplessness, of misery and unhappiness, that would stifle joy and prevent us from reaching out and embracing the arts. Allow solace to come to your heart if you have need of it and reject the lure of apathy and regret, for you are alive, and with life, there is hope.
We recall in our hearts the importance of our given word, and its representative value as betokens the love and duty we owe one another. We hold our vows in our hearts and souls as the greatest pinnacle of our achievement, not because to hold them is _required_ of us, but because it is _difficult_, and there is value in that very weight. These are burdens we choose, and we choose them because we love them, and we love them because we love each other. We do not forget what it means to be forsworn, and we do not forsake each other.
We do not forget the value of our freedom, for without choice, all else falls away into slavery. We own the responsibility for our choices, because we are creatures of our own agency and will. We will not shunt responsibility for choices we make onto others, for we know that to do so is to accept that we have been enslaved.
We remember that no mistake is permanent, that no step onto the dark path is permanent, that no error can be so unforgivable that it cannot be learned from, embraced, developed and changed. We recognize that there are times when we are wrong, and we remember that to remain the same is to be stagnant, to be static, to be frozen in place, unchanging, unliving. To grow is to live, and to change is to grow, and we do not forget the healing grace of becoming anew.
We know the value of remembering our history, for we see what there is to fear in repeating it. We condemn ignorance as a greater risk than foolishness, for wisdom must be grounded in knowledge, or there is none at all.
We do not forget the grace in the light of the sun, the sweetness of the waters, the dance of life upon the wind. We embrace the light without fear of the dark, but we remember that the darkness lurks, and without it there would be no light, and without light no darkness to grant each other meaning. We embrace the freedom of the wind and waves, and we are grateful for the opportunity to quench our thirst, because we remember what it is to make do with drought.
We remember the grant of plenty that is the world around us, the green things and the golden, the life that swells and grows from each hillock, field, and dell. We embrace the gift of sanctuary and of hospitality and remember that without these things there is nothing but bleakness and waste. We condemn waste and are grateful for plenty, for we know what it is to be without and plagued with famine.
We recall the need for truth and sincerity in our dealings, with each other and before the gods. We know that no matter how much we insist upon the truth of a lie, the deceiving veil pulled over our fellow humanity's eyes will not deceive the gaze of the Watcher who sees all. We remember that falsehood is a flimsy precipice on which to build a reputation, a policy, a life. And we know that liars, ultimately, will find their falsehoods known, and the achievements they earned with their false tongues will be scattered like ashes before the searing fire of the truth that will scour them from this world.
We know that this life too shall pass, and that when it is over, we shall return to the loving arms of the Mother of Beginnings who wove us from herself. We remember her gladly, for without her we know that there would only be the curse of nothingness.
We remember that the dark mirror held up to the light is necessary, for without the dark, the light would have no meaning.
We remember that the Dream is what we make of it. We will stand, and we will make it together.
We remember that the light of the pilgrims is compassion for others. Commerce is growth in your own pockets commensurate with growth in another's, and both of you profit thereby. A thoughtless reach for wealth is not an embrace of prosperity, but its empty, hollow echoes. Wealth in and of itself is no wickedness, but wealth pursued by means that forget the needs of others reflects no virtue. Do not forget what your wealth means, nor what it is for, nor why we perform gifts and charity.
We do not forget that blood spilled for its own sake is no glory. We embrace an honor that remembers the humanity of our opponents, and reject accolades earned spent in the deaths of children. We reject utterly those who would kill an unarmed opponent, an innocent, a child. We reject and condemn those who murder recklessly, with abandon, without thought to the honor of the act, or to the identity of their victims. I condemn you for this if you treat acts of slaughter as acts of honorable warfare.
We remember that an act of creation, an act of creativity, is an essential act of hope, a celebration of our better natures. We reject the feeling of helplessness, of misery and unhappiness, that would stifle joy and prevent us from reaching out and embracing the arts. Allow solace to come to your heart if you have need of it and reject the lure of apathy and regret, for you are alive, and with life, there is hope.
We recall in our hearts the importance of our given word, and its representative value as betokens the love and duty we owe one another. We hold our vows in our hearts and souls as the greatest pinnacle of our achievement, not because to hold them is _required_ of us, but because it is _difficult_, and there is value in that very weight. These are burdens we choose, and we choose them because we love them, and we love them because we love each other. We do not forget what it means to be forsworn, and we do not forsake each other.
We do not forget the value of our freedom, for without choice, all else falls away into slavery. We own the responsibility for our choices, because we are creatures of our own agency and will. We will not shunt responsibility for choices we make onto others, for we know that to do so is to accept that we have been enslaved.
We remember that no mistake is permanent, that no step onto the dark path is permanent, that no error can be so unforgivable that it cannot be learned from, embraced, developed and changed. We recognize that there are times when we are wrong, and we remember that to remain the same is to be stagnant, to be static, to be frozen in place, unchanging, unliving. To grow is to live, and to change is to grow, and we do not forget the healing grace of becoming anew.
We know the value of remembering our history, for we see what there is to fear in repeating it. We condemn ignorance as a greater risk than foolishness, for wisdom must be grounded in knowledge, or there is none at all.
We do not forget the grace in the light of the sun, the sweetness of the waters, the dance of life upon the wind. We embrace the light without fear of the dark, but we remember that the darkness lurks, and without it there would be no light, and without light no darkness to grant each other meaning. We embrace the freedom of the wind and waves, and we are grateful for the opportunity to quench our thirst, because we remember what it is to make do with drought.
We remember the grant of plenty that is the world around us, the green things and the golden, the life that swells and grows from each hillock, field, and dell. We embrace the gift of sanctuary and of hospitality and remember that without these things there is nothing but bleakness and waste. We condemn waste and are grateful for plenty, for we know what it is to be without and plagued with famine.
We recall the need for truth and sincerity in our dealings, with each other and before the gods. We know that no matter how much we insist upon the truth of a lie, the deceiving veil pulled over our fellow humanity's eyes will not deceive the gaze of the Watcher who sees all. We remember that falsehood is a flimsy precipice on which to build a reputation, a policy, a life. And we know that liars, ultimately, will find their falsehoods known, and the achievements they earned with their false tongues will be scattered like ashes before the searing fire of the truth that will scour them from this world.
We know that this life too shall pass, and that when it is over, we shall return to the loving arms of the Mother of Beginnings who wove us from herself. We remember her gladly, for without her we know that there would only be the curse of nothingness.
We remember that the dark mirror held up to the light is necessary, for without the dark, the light would have no meaning.
We remember that the Dream is what we make of it. We will stand, and we will make it together.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.