Written By Branan
Jan. 1, 2017, 10:55 p.m.(7/18/1005 AR)
Sometimes, you can only stand before the world and shout your joy for its glory.
Written By Branan
Jan. 1, 2017, 9:58 p.m.(7/18/1005 AR)
When before I met thee,
I not in truth, what I missed,
But with smile and repartee,
She takes me by agile wrist,
Muse, Lady, Lover, yet all three.
Not some casual spring tryst,
Shows me what might be,
When my lips she softly kissed.
I not in truth, what I missed,
But with smile and repartee,
She takes me by agile wrist,
Muse, Lady, Lover, yet all three.
Not some casual spring tryst,
Shows me what might be,
When my lips she softly kissed.
Written By Branan
Dec. 24, 2016, 10:28 a.m.(6/20/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Bethany
Likeminded Royal Servant
Written By Branan
Dec. 24, 2016, 10:23 a.m.(6/20/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Esera
Grand Patroness
Written By Branan
Dec. 19, 2016, 9:57 p.m.(6/7/1005 AR)
Sunrise, so crimson and copper,
Streaks its warming way across the indigo sky,
Turning nights wealth to pauper,
The city longs for the suns first kiss to draw nigh.
Streaks its warming way across the indigo sky,
Turning nights wealth to pauper,
The city longs for the suns first kiss to draw nigh.
Written By Branan
Dec. 19, 2016, 9:57 p.m.(6/7/1005 AR)
Sunrise, so crimson and copper,
Streaks its warming way across the indigo sky,
Turning nights wealth to pauper,
The city longs for the suns first kiss to draw nigh.
Streaks its warming way across the indigo sky,
Turning nights wealth to pauper,
The city longs for the suns first kiss to draw nigh.
Written By Branan
Dec. 18, 2016, 11:08 p.m.(6/4/1005 AR)
I ought to know better than to involve my emotions in any transaction.
I ought.
I ought.
Written By Branan
Dec. 18, 2016, 8:24 p.m.(6/4/1005 AR)
I must remember who I am in my core. Only this knowledge will see me to clarity.
I must never stop being who I am for the approval of others. Even if I dance and sing and juggle for the amusement of others, it is for my own comfort I work.
Coin does not grow if planted in the ground. And I do not like being hungry.
I must never stop being who I am for the approval of others. Even if I dance and sing and juggle for the amusement of others, it is for my own comfort I work.
Coin does not grow if planted in the ground. And I do not like being hungry.
Written By Branan
Dec. 18, 2016, 8:21 p.m.(6/4/1005 AR)
A week of drama and a week of toil,
A week of exhaustion and a week of sweat,
A week of planting, of tilling the soil,
A week of investments some would call bet.
A week of realizations and a week of research,
a week of storms and a week for hearts,
A week of combing over archives of the church,
And a week of making new, fresh starts.
A week of exhaustion and a week of sweat,
A week of planting, of tilling the soil,
A week of investments some would call bet.
A week of realizations and a week of research,
a week of storms and a week for hearts,
A week of combing over archives of the church,
And a week of making new, fresh starts.
Written By Branan
Dec. 7, 2016, 10:30 a.m.(4/26/1005 AR)
[This journal entry is in the form of a charcoal drawn image. Though done only in a single color spectrum of grays and blacks, the image shows a clear attention to detail and gradation of tone. The content of the image is of a fantastical nature.
In the center is clearly Prince Anze, stripped to pants and boots only, grappling with a bear. A big bear. A very very big bear. The bear has scars and patches of missing fur, giving it a grizzled veterans look and his size implies a great deal of strength and skill.
The obvious strength of the bear is used as a juxtaposition for the skill of the Prince of Redrain, as Anze, muscles bulging and features stern, is shown as having the bear in something of a headlock.
To the side, Prince Darren smiling broadly and talking to two other bears. The bears, bi-pedal in stance, are gesturing confusedly at Anze and the wrestling bear. A speech-bubble leads from Darren and he says ‘Never bet against Redrain. Ever.’]
In the center is clearly Prince Anze, stripped to pants and boots only, grappling with a bear. A big bear. A very very big bear. The bear has scars and patches of missing fur, giving it a grizzled veterans look and his size implies a great deal of strength and skill.
The obvious strength of the bear is used as a juxtaposition for the skill of the Prince of Redrain, as Anze, muscles bulging and features stern, is shown as having the bear in something of a headlock.
To the side, Prince Darren smiling broadly and talking to two other bears. The bears, bi-pedal in stance, are gesturing confusedly at Anze and the wrestling bear. A speech-bubble leads from Darren and he says ‘Never bet against Redrain. Ever.’]
Written By Branan
Dec. 7, 2016, 9:56 a.m.(4/26/1005 AR)
In Redrain district, in the new springs first days,
Gather the champions of the North, terribly vast,
A people of iron muscle and hard rubicund gaze,
Round the fireside, tale telling, they so massed.
Prince Azne, The very blade of winters tooth,
Boisterous laugh, belly filled and forest-trail deep,
His sister so dear, Freja, the snows own sleuth
Sat at his side, fair Valencia, the Northstar to keep.
All round in this place, a trace of north come to south,
The warmth and reverie of the moment a family scene,
Stories and mirth, joy passed from soul to ear to mouth,
But ready and able to show foe and enemy their spleen.
(The following verse added by request of Prince Darren)
The Prince called Anze was said to be able to wrestle a bear,
Such strength of arm and strength of soul, none could defend,
He could do it in armor, in the buff, in the nude without a care,
And it was barely without laughing that this verse was penned.
Gather the champions of the North, terribly vast,
A people of iron muscle and hard rubicund gaze,
Round the fireside, tale telling, they so massed.
Prince Azne, The very blade of winters tooth,
Boisterous laugh, belly filled and forest-trail deep,
His sister so dear, Freja, the snows own sleuth
Sat at his side, fair Valencia, the Northstar to keep.
All round in this place, a trace of north come to south,
The warmth and reverie of the moment a family scene,
Stories and mirth, joy passed from soul to ear to mouth,
But ready and able to show foe and enemy their spleen.
(The following verse added by request of Prince Darren)
The Prince called Anze was said to be able to wrestle a bear,
Such strength of arm and strength of soul, none could defend,
He could do it in armor, in the buff, in the nude without a care,
And it was barely without laughing that this verse was penned.
Written By Branan
Dec. 6, 2016, 1:14 p.m.(4/23/1005 AR)
From the Saffron of the South,
to the Mourning of the North,
From the Brandy of Setsarcos drouth,
To Grimm honey mead ever flowing forth,
The islands of tradewinds are manifold,
South seas tropics with plantations wide,
To north shores terrible ice and cold,
And in between every thing bestride.
to the Mourning of the North,
From the Brandy of Setsarcos drouth,
To Grimm honey mead ever flowing forth,
The islands of tradewinds are manifold,
South seas tropics with plantations wide,
To north shores terrible ice and cold,
And in between every thing bestride.
Written By Branan
Dec. 6, 2016, 10:35 a.m.(4/23/1005 AR)
Dear Signore Dominici.
It is I, your second son. The one you chose to disown for his passions and desire to be something other than a simple grain merchant.
I hope this post finds you well. I have made it to Arx. I have secured a prestigious position and a patron for my art. Do you recall when you told me I would die a silverless beggar, before you ever sent me a single coin to help pay my way?
You have been true to your word, on your spendthrift nature.
But you will find enclosed in this missive, a cheq drawn on the bank of Lenosia.
You may cash it at your lesiure, and do what you will with the money.
I'm so pleased that in the space of 3 weeks in this city, I have made more money than the whole family did last year.
As a note.
My employer is Grand Duchess Esera Velenosa.
Some people around here have an appreciation for the arts.
I will send more money when I am able for Sophia's fosterage. I will find someone suitable of station for her to foster with, and then I, not you, not your grain, not your discontent and inconsolable nature, will raise our family out of the apathy you let infect it.
Your son.
Branan.
It is I, your second son. The one you chose to disown for his passions and desire to be something other than a simple grain merchant.
I hope this post finds you well. I have made it to Arx. I have secured a prestigious position and a patron for my art. Do you recall when you told me I would die a silverless beggar, before you ever sent me a single coin to help pay my way?
You have been true to your word, on your spendthrift nature.
But you will find enclosed in this missive, a cheq drawn on the bank of Lenosia.
You may cash it at your lesiure, and do what you will with the money.
I'm so pleased that in the space of 3 weeks in this city, I have made more money than the whole family did last year.
As a note.
My employer is Grand Duchess Esera Velenosa.
Some people around here have an appreciation for the arts.
I will send more money when I am able for Sophia's fosterage. I will find someone suitable of station for her to foster with, and then I, not you, not your grain, not your discontent and inconsolable nature, will raise our family out of the apathy you let infect it.
Your son.
Branan.
Written By Branan
Dec. 4, 2016, 11:34 p.m.(4/18/1005 AR)
In traders tavern, raucous and loud,
The nobles did enjoy and consume,
The freemen were not quite bowed,
Yet t’was still not a royals tea room.
The cold spring evening was daft and draft,
The conversation spinning, quite cheerfully so,
Princesses and Lords and makers of craft,
All locked in the verbal riverine rapidical flow.
Discussion of dogs and houses and daring do,
Topics ranging from family to politics sprightly,
Carpenters, sailors skulking, sipping their brew,
While young nobles pranced about so knightly.
The nobles did enjoy and consume,
The freemen were not quite bowed,
Yet t’was still not a royals tea room.
The cold spring evening was daft and draft,
The conversation spinning, quite cheerfully so,
Princesses and Lords and makers of craft,
All locked in the verbal riverine rapidical flow.
Discussion of dogs and houses and daring do,
Topics ranging from family to politics sprightly,
Carpenters, sailors skulking, sipping their brew,
While young nobles pranced about so knightly.
Written By Branan
Dec. 3, 2016, 12:09 p.m.(4/14/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Larissa
Her eyes. Her eyes haunt me. They held such mirth. Such truth. Such a passion for life and a joy that I cannot say I have seen anywhere else.
My father said before I left, I would spend my time in Arx spending all my coin at the House of Whispers.
Of course, he also said I would be penniless in a gutter trying to sell sailors limericks for a meal.
He's absolutely wrong on one point.
I may try to make him correct on the other, for kindnesses sake.
My father said before I left, I would spend my time in Arx spending all my coin at the House of Whispers.
Of course, he also said I would be penniless in a gutter trying to sell sailors limericks for a meal.
He's absolutely wrong on one point.
I may try to make him correct on the other, for kindnesses sake.
Written By Branan
Dec. 1, 2016, 11:56 a.m.(4/8/1005 AR)
I came upon a man, yet I did not speak,
But I had voice, ‘You have but one boot’,
Such a barren foot, such a lonely sole,
His claim; a maiden yonder found it cute,
His boot she claimed, his boot she stole.
I came upon a woman, yet I did not speak,
But had I voice, ‘You have drawn a sword’.
Such an angry woman, such a sharp blade,
Her claim; that she was startled by the lord,
Fashion and steel, the conversation of trade.
I came upon a scene, I was compelled to speak,
The lack-booted lord required of me advice,
Of which color would look best on his frame,
To true, I gave him good deed at good price,
Neither black nor blue, but a crimson flame.
I came upon a scene, I was compelled to speak,
The soft-soled Lord of the Lighthouse made ribald jest,
Of sailors and love and the stark loneliness of barren sea,
Forced to speak of myself, I did so only when pressed,
As I can speak at length and write for hours, just not of me.
I was part of a scene, and I was compelled to write,
An offer of island stewardship, I had to sadly reject,
Though it was made in good honor, truly I am blessed,
As no other employment I can take, unless checked,
No insult he took, and instead on his coin, I am dressed.
Praise be to Lord Salazar Argento for his generosity.
Poet for hire – no subject too mundane.
But I had voice, ‘You have but one boot’,
Such a barren foot, such a lonely sole,
His claim; a maiden yonder found it cute,
His boot she claimed, his boot she stole.
I came upon a woman, yet I did not speak,
But had I voice, ‘You have drawn a sword’.
Such an angry woman, such a sharp blade,
Her claim; that she was startled by the lord,
Fashion and steel, the conversation of trade.
I came upon a scene, I was compelled to speak,
The lack-booted lord required of me advice,
Of which color would look best on his frame,
To true, I gave him good deed at good price,
Neither black nor blue, but a crimson flame.
I came upon a scene, I was compelled to speak,
The soft-soled Lord of the Lighthouse made ribald jest,
Of sailors and love and the stark loneliness of barren sea,
Forced to speak of myself, I did so only when pressed,
As I can speak at length and write for hours, just not of me.
I was part of a scene, and I was compelled to write,
An offer of island stewardship, I had to sadly reject,
Though it was made in good honor, truly I am blessed,
As no other employment I can take, unless checked,
No insult he took, and instead on his coin, I am dressed.
Praise be to Lord Salazar Argento for his generosity.
Poet for hire – no subject too mundane.
Written By Branan
Dec. 1, 2016, 7:24 a.m.(4/7/1005 AR)
The Inn has closed and the sun has set,
Star-bringing darkness consumes the sky,
Time come for reflection as to not forget,
Time for quill to ink as sleep draws nigh.
From the docks unto the city, winters chill,
Wandering the shops, warm and sunny Aurora,
Finding hospitality and employments thrill,
A fine cloak to warm me made by graceful signora,
A note, a message comes, from Lady Greenmarch,
A conversation to be had, an honorarium paid,
A gift from the generous lady, for dry throat parched,
By such helpful glory, any poet may be swayed.
And yet, from homeward throne thought so distant,
The Grand Duchess Esera Velenosa heard my plea,
Penned so quick was my resume’ titled ‘assistant’,
And her response, inked so quick was ‘Come to me’.
Star-bringing darkness consumes the sky,
Time come for reflection as to not forget,
Time for quill to ink as sleep draws nigh.
From the docks unto the city, winters chill,
Wandering the shops, warm and sunny Aurora,
Finding hospitality and employments thrill,
A fine cloak to warm me made by graceful signora,
A note, a message comes, from Lady Greenmarch,
A conversation to be had, an honorarium paid,
A gift from the generous lady, for dry throat parched,
By such helpful glory, any poet may be swayed.
And yet, from homeward throne thought so distant,
The Grand Duchess Esera Velenosa heard my plea,
Penned so quick was my resume’ titled ‘assistant’,
And her response, inked so quick was ‘Come to me’.
Written By Branan
Nov. 30, 2016, 2:25 p.m.(4/5/1005 AR)
Well.
I had intended to get the city to open the gates of opportunity for me.
I had no idea they would open, hands would reach out and grab me, then pull me inside.
My Grand Duchess Esera is a gracious and generous lady.
I am humbled by her gift.
I had intended to get the city to open the gates of opportunity for me.
I had no idea they would open, hands would reach out and grab me, then pull me inside.
My Grand Duchess Esera is a gracious and generous lady.
I am humbled by her gift.
Written By Branan
Nov. 30, 2016, 12:11 p.m.(4/5/1005 AR)
Oh, Arx, splendid city of Kings and Queens,
The very heart and core of scholarly learning,
It is here that the play-writes lay their scenes,
And for which all learned men are yearning,
I brace you now, you, most great city of all,
I step from cruel ships deck upon your shore,
I am here, my city, to answer your sirens call,
Long was the journey from rose hipped Tor.
Long was my way, and dark was my path,
To come to this glimmering city on the hill,
Braving dangers deep and families wrath,
I have come to you, penniless, with but a quill.
Receive me now, throw wide your gates for me,
A city where artisans can make their marks,
Where scribe can pen passion play and poetry,
I come to serve you, my great city of Arx.
The very heart and core of scholarly learning,
It is here that the play-writes lay their scenes,
And for which all learned men are yearning,
I brace you now, you, most great city of all,
I step from cruel ships deck upon your shore,
I am here, my city, to answer your sirens call,
Long was the journey from rose hipped Tor.
Long was my way, and dark was my path,
To come to this glimmering city on the hill,
Braving dangers deep and families wrath,
I have come to you, penniless, with but a quill.
Receive me now, throw wide your gates for me,
A city where artisans can make their marks,
Where scribe can pen passion play and poetry,
I come to serve you, my great city of Arx.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.