Written By Kima
April 15, 2017, 5:37 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
Standing upon the Wall, as the Seawatch Gate has come to be known, I looked out upon the city as I could see it. Traders Home, of the Upper Boroughs, its roofs and buildings a far cry different from the ramshackle sprawl that is the Lower. The formidable iron gate that separates the two remains open, as, to my knowledge, it always has. Traffic, however, is not what it was once. One could say the same of traffic anywhere throughout the capital. Citizens travel with air of a people harried, and even the port, which remains open, has a carnival air of madness to it. There is a heavier presence of Iron Guardsmen at the gate between the Boroughs, but such is not surprising given recent events - riots over food and Bringers of Silence or their agents attempting to make use of the Gray River or other, forgotten means to gain access to the city.
Tunnels. The capital is, apparently, riddled with them. Some few are known, many and more are undoubtedly lost to us. If not physically through decay, then because knowledge of their existence was lost. Most recently there was a group of Crownsworn that journeyed within some - at the time of this writing, I know not where - to find the enemy. One was taken captive and turned over to the Hoods, but another purportedly dropped a map and instructions to take these tunnels below us and travel to the heart of the Archives of Vellichor.
As I look, the roar of industry envelopes me. It is almost a physical thing, a presence at my back. I walk the Wall daily, and so I have grown accustomed to it. Strange, the things during wartime that so quickly become mundane, that would have been unspeakable during times of peace.
Large swathes of the Gray Forest have been cut down to the north and east. The lumber of those once hoary old trees used to make ladders and other siege equipment. There are dozens of siege towers, now. The land is black and brown and grey. Shavs, in their tens of thousands, blanket the earth. There are no calls or shouts, there are no groans of the wounded. There is only the sound of their working, working, working. There are so many that, when seen from afar, they do not appear real. It is a force to boggle the mind.
The thirteen Knights of Solace still remain macabre banners. Their remains are little more than crow-picked carrion. Bones wrapped in sun-hardened ligaments carry the memory of the shape of men.
This is what you will see when you look beyond the Wall, to its north and east you will see it, sprawling on and on, like so much ink spilled and staining parchment. It is what I have seen this day, and so it is what I have written.
Tunnels. The capital is, apparently, riddled with them. Some few are known, many and more are undoubtedly lost to us. If not physically through decay, then because knowledge of their existence was lost. Most recently there was a group of Crownsworn that journeyed within some - at the time of this writing, I know not where - to find the enemy. One was taken captive and turned over to the Hoods, but another purportedly dropped a map and instructions to take these tunnels below us and travel to the heart of the Archives of Vellichor.
As I look, the roar of industry envelopes me. It is almost a physical thing, a presence at my back. I walk the Wall daily, and so I have grown accustomed to it. Strange, the things during wartime that so quickly become mundane, that would have been unspeakable during times of peace.
Large swathes of the Gray Forest have been cut down to the north and east. The lumber of those once hoary old trees used to make ladders and other siege equipment. There are dozens of siege towers, now. The land is black and brown and grey. Shavs, in their tens of thousands, blanket the earth. There are no calls or shouts, there are no groans of the wounded. There is only the sound of their working, working, working. There are so many that, when seen from afar, they do not appear real. It is a force to boggle the mind.
The thirteen Knights of Solace still remain macabre banners. Their remains are little more than crow-picked carrion. Bones wrapped in sun-hardened ligaments carry the memory of the shape of men.
This is what you will see when you look beyond the Wall, to its north and east you will see it, sprawling on and on, like so much ink spilled and staining parchment. It is what I have seen this day, and so it is what I have written.
Written By Kima
April 13, 2017, 12:59 a.m.(4/7/1006 AR)
There are those who view everything in the world as either all Good or all Bad. As such, everyone else must either fully embrace something or completely reject something. Indifference, ambivalence and moderation are not permissible in their world view. The only things that matter, the only things that can matter, are those that require a moral position. All else falls outside the set of things that exist, at least to such individuals.
Written By Kima
April 11, 2017, 7:08 p.m.(4/4/1006 AR)
How do you teach wisdom to Man? The wisdom of others is the wisdom we ignore, even should they know how to communicate it.
Written By Kima
April 7, 2017, 5:53 p.m.(3/24/1006 AR)
If you cannot find a way to make your enemies trust you, then you should certainly do your very best to make them mistrust one another.
Written By Kima
March 25, 2017, 6:28 p.m.(2/26/1006 AR)
Resentment is the bastard brother of gratitude.
Written By Kima
March 25, 2017, 2:28 p.m.(2/26/1006 AR)
I do not often speak of the man who instructed me in the ways of knighthood, but today as I was overseeing the swordsmanship of the youths under my tutelage, I was reminded of these words once given to me:
Young knight, learn to love the gods and revere the people that you would serve and protect so that your honor grows. Act always with virtue and learn the Art that dignifies you, and brings you honor in battle. Wrestle well and wield lance, spear, sword and dagger skilfully, whose use in the hands of another is wasted. And when you must strike, strike bravely.
I passed this onto my students, and I now commend them here, so that any who might read them now or in later years might grow and be heartened by them.
Young knight, learn to love the gods and revere the people that you would serve and protect so that your honor grows. Act always with virtue and learn the Art that dignifies you, and brings you honor in battle. Wrestle well and wield lance, spear, sword and dagger skilfully, whose use in the hands of another is wasted. And when you must strike, strike bravely.
I passed this onto my students, and I now commend them here, so that any who might read them now or in later years might grow and be heartened by them.
Written By Kima
March 22, 2017, 1:01 a.m.(2/19/1006 AR)
To my brother, who has departed from this world-
I miss you terribly. I miss you more than you can know.
I wish that you were here. I wish things were the way they used to be. Vomas already frowns so much like you that it hurts.
Do you remember mother's favorite poem?
Love does blossom like a flower
And petals fall like tears
I miss you terribly. I miss you more than you can know.
I wish that you were here. I wish things were the way they used to be. Vomas already frowns so much like you that it hurts.
Do you remember mother's favorite poem?
Love does blossom like a flower
And petals fall like tears
Written By Kima
March 15, 2017, 2:08 a.m.(2/5/1006 AR)
I was once told that people can only disappoint you.
Yet if they are important to you, you will love them all the same. Because we none of us are perfect.
Yet if they are important to you, you will love them all the same. Because we none of us are perfect.
Written By Kima
March 14, 2017, 1:47 a.m.(2/3/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Karadoc
Ahh...
What to say about Karadoc?
You know what, coz? I look forward to the games we shall play, too.
But we mustn't forget duty, either. I am certain the letter you received recently from Legate Orazio subtly reminded you of such.
What to say about Karadoc?
You know what, coz? I look forward to the games we shall play, too.
But we mustn't forget duty, either. I am certain the letter you received recently from Legate Orazio subtly reminded you of such.
Written By Kima
March 14, 2017, 1:38 a.m.(2/3/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Estaban
Estaban, Arcelia's brother, and the sort of man who fears nothing except for the fact his little sister is no longer so little. Turn your protective focus outward, rather than inward. There are so many who would benefit from your zeal and determination - now more so than ever.
Written By Kima
March 14, 2017, 1:28 a.m.(2/3/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Arcelia
Arcelia was the first of my cousins to travel to Arx at my behest. She is an articulate and intelligent woman, with a gentle temperament that I believe will compliment me nicely as we strive to represent our little family to the best of our ability here in the capital.
As a personal note for her, for all and sundry to read: I hope you never feel pressured to embark down a path you're not ready for. And remember that you're more capable than you think yourself to be.
As a personal note for her, for all and sundry to read: I hope you never feel pressured to embark down a path you're not ready for. And remember that you're more capable than you think yourself to be.
Written By Kima
March 9, 2017, 8:59 p.m.(1/22/1006 AR)
To the future generations of my House, most especially the one who wields this alaricite blade after me, know this:
Of all the acts committed by men, only death is absolute.
Of all the acts committed by men, only death is absolute.
Written By Kima
March 9, 2017, 12:45 a.m.(1/21/1006 AR)
The unspoken freedom enshrined in the worship of Vellichor is the right to think freely and openly debate issues without being muzzled or treated like a criminal.
Written By Kima
March 8, 2017, 8:52 p.m.(1/20/1006 AR)
I awoke this morning with no small amount of confusion. There were...questionable stains on the sheets, on the floor, on- well. It is not often that I experience panic, yet as it began to mount, and regret for hazily recalled decisions of the night before filtered into the muddied waters of my mind...in came Varic.
Sweet Varic. That beautiful, quiet, resourceful man. He looked at me, looked around the room, then pointed at the near-empty bowl that had been abandoned on the floor not far from where I lay.
Never has so much been explained without a word having been said.
Sweet Varic. That beautiful, quiet, resourceful man. He looked at me, looked around the room, then pointed at the near-empty bowl that had been abandoned on the floor not far from where I lay.
Never has so much been explained without a word having been said.
Written By Kima
March 4, 2017, 8:59 p.m.(1/12/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Freja
In another life, you were shorter, I was taller. You still had your axe, but for some preposterous reason I used a bow. And of course you were still a fabulous red head and I a gorgeous blonde.
Written By Kima
Feb. 28, 2017, 7:17 p.m.(1/4/1006 AR)
I was recently asked what I wanted.
But I've since determined that there is a more appropriate question that people should ask themselves.
Having found Elysia, would you slog through the Abyss to return there?
But I've since determined that there is a more appropriate question that people should ask themselves.
Having found Elysia, would you slog through the Abyss to return there?
Written By Kima
Feb. 27, 2017, 1:04 a.m.(1/1/1006 AR)
There has been something weighing on my mind quite heavily for the past few weeks. I have come to a decision. I can only pray that the parties involved will understand and support the choice I have made.
Written By Kima
Feb. 23, 2017, 9:52 p.m.(12/22/1005 AR)
Power concedes nothing without demand. It never has and it never will. Find out just what people will submit to, and you have found out the exact amount of injustice and wrong which will be imposed upon them; and these will continue until they are resisted with either words or blows or both. The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress
Written By Kima
Feb. 17, 2017, 11:16 p.m.(12/11/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Costas
Speak the truth, grow still, until the water is clear between us.
Written By Kima
Feb. 17, 2017, 7:54 p.m.(12/10/1005 AR)
If you had asked me about my thoughts on Prodigals, Abandoned, and Shavs even just a few short years ago, I would have offered a thoughtlessly scathing reply. I will be the first to admit that I was hardly the most tolerant.
It was only after I came to know recent Prodigals that I started changing my mind about the topic. These people, who had recently gone through the process of forsaking their previous lives for that of a citizen of the Compact, had very different ideas about it than natural born Arvani. More important, they had no illusions about the state of things outside the Compact's purview. Talk to newly arrived Prodigals and they will be happy to tell you that most of the people they left behind should stay out there. One might even say they left for a reason.
This came to mind the other day when I sat listening to two disparate Prodigals discuss the most recent Assembly. Both had come to Arx to bend the knee. The older man left his tribe some twenty years ago, feeling as though he had no worthwhile future amongst his more warlike compatriots. The other, a younger woman, was lured here by the kindness of a knight of Solace, and his recollections of the Scholars of Vellichor.
One of the things I have learned from them, when it comes to the Prodigal issue, is they place a high value on citizenship. That’s because they spent a lot to get it. Acquiring citizenship was a transaction for them, not an accident of birth. The older man in this left his home, and all that he knew, because he correctly saw where things were heading for his tribe. He was a guy that sold all his stuff, bought as many gambling chips as he could afford, and pushed them into the middle of the game table.
In Arvum, Prodigals are free to start their own story. Their past is no longer a set of boundaries on them. Just as important, they are free of the family and tribal restrictions. The young woman went into a career that does not exist amongst her people and even if it did, her family would not have approved. You can do those things where it is just you, striking out on your own. That’s the attraction of Arvum. It’s a blank canvass for those Prodigals that come here.
None of this means we should fling open our borders and let the world move to the Compact. In fact, it is quite the opposite. Borders and barriers are a filtering mechanism - though I won't go on about numbers and levels. It is outside of my area of expertise, and to pretend otherwise would be rank foolishness. Even so, I will conclude with this:
The people willing to go through all the steps it takes to become citizens of the Compact are going to be people who scrupulously observe the law. In fact, some of the Prodigals I've come to know since are almost hyper-patriotic for that reason. They take nothing for granted because they had to earn their citizenship. Their presence is a healthy reminder that citizenship has value.
Ultimately, my contention with those who argue the opposite is that there are those who place no value on citizenship. Those people tend not to put value on people. To them, people are just undifferentiated raw material, inputs they can manipulate. Whether the material comes from home or elsewhere is irrelevant because everything normal people associate with being human is of no concern to the managerial types. They see people the way normal people look at furniture.
It was only after I came to know recent Prodigals that I started changing my mind about the topic. These people, who had recently gone through the process of forsaking their previous lives for that of a citizen of the Compact, had very different ideas about it than natural born Arvani. More important, they had no illusions about the state of things outside the Compact's purview. Talk to newly arrived Prodigals and they will be happy to tell you that most of the people they left behind should stay out there. One might even say they left for a reason.
This came to mind the other day when I sat listening to two disparate Prodigals discuss the most recent Assembly. Both had come to Arx to bend the knee. The older man left his tribe some twenty years ago, feeling as though he had no worthwhile future amongst his more warlike compatriots. The other, a younger woman, was lured here by the kindness of a knight of Solace, and his recollections of the Scholars of Vellichor.
One of the things I have learned from them, when it comes to the Prodigal issue, is they place a high value on citizenship. That’s because they spent a lot to get it. Acquiring citizenship was a transaction for them, not an accident of birth. The older man in this left his home, and all that he knew, because he correctly saw where things were heading for his tribe. He was a guy that sold all his stuff, bought as many gambling chips as he could afford, and pushed them into the middle of the game table.
In Arvum, Prodigals are free to start their own story. Their past is no longer a set of boundaries on them. Just as important, they are free of the family and tribal restrictions. The young woman went into a career that does not exist amongst her people and even if it did, her family would not have approved. You can do those things where it is just you, striking out on your own. That’s the attraction of Arvum. It’s a blank canvass for those Prodigals that come here.
None of this means we should fling open our borders and let the world move to the Compact. In fact, it is quite the opposite. Borders and barriers are a filtering mechanism - though I won't go on about numbers and levels. It is outside of my area of expertise, and to pretend otherwise would be rank foolishness. Even so, I will conclude with this:
The people willing to go through all the steps it takes to become citizens of the Compact are going to be people who scrupulously observe the law. In fact, some of the Prodigals I've come to know since are almost hyper-patriotic for that reason. They take nothing for granted because they had to earn their citizenship. Their presence is a healthy reminder that citizenship has value.
Ultimately, my contention with those who argue the opposite is that there are those who place no value on citizenship. Those people tend not to put value on people. To them, people are just undifferentiated raw material, inputs they can manipulate. Whether the material comes from home or elsewhere is irrelevant because everything normal people associate with being human is of no concern to the managerial types. They see people the way normal people look at furniture.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.