Written By Perronne
March 10, 2019, 6:06 p.m.(9/18/1010 AR)
I don't think you can actually fill a journal entry with nothing but joyous laughter. I've been trying! But the words never look quite as joyous when written down. Just looks kind of silly, really.
But! For the benefit of anyone who is reading this in the future, and who doesn't for some reason have access to better journals than mine, let it be known that on this day After Reckoning, Prince Victus Thrax, Highlord of the Mourning Isles, declared that the practice known as thralldom would be abolished seven years hence, for good. Also let it be known that all the Great Houses stood in support of the notion.
Exciting!
But! For the benefit of anyone who is reading this in the future, and who doesn't for some reason have access to better journals than mine, let it be known that on this day After Reckoning, Prince Victus Thrax, Highlord of the Mourning Isles, declared that the practice known as thralldom would be abolished seven years hence, for good. Also let it be known that all the Great Houses stood in support of the notion.
Exciting!
Written By Perronne
March 8, 2019, 3:09 p.m.(9/14/1010 AR)
I am buried in scrolls and letters! Turns out setting up a trade fair in a place where you aren't is a bit more complex than I perhaps realized, but it's been a lot of fun figuring things out! Who knew so much could go sideways, and require creative solutions and the occasional bit of blatant bribery to fix? My favorite crisis so far has definitely been a little issue I like to call the Affair of the Brindle Goat. And if you didn't hear someone saw dissonantly on a violin after I said that, I encourage you to picture that sound effect in your mind! Somehow a single brindle goat (who I am assured is a CHAMPION, so let that be said) has managed to cause three different merchant guilds to nearly come to blows, walk out of participating in the fair, or beat each other up and THEN walk out of the fair. Apparently there is a very important dispute on the champion's lineage and the sire of the little baby goats she has recently given birth to, and somehow SOMEHOW, this has become a very big deal. Stud fees, fees for 'besmirching the honor of the goat', and fines for not keeping goats properly enclosed...I think I've gotten a hundred letters about that alone.
But. I think we have finally come to a satisfactory conclusion in the matter of the Brindle Goat, and my only lingering regret is a strong yearning for goat stew.
But that's just one thing. There are many things! My fellow merchants have many, many opinions about all sorts of things, and it turns out that once you put any sort of 'organizer' or 'facilitator' tag with your name, you are contractually obligated to listen to all of them. And fix them.
I am very much considering just getting very drunk.
But. I think we have finally come to a satisfactory conclusion in the matter of the Brindle Goat, and my only lingering regret is a strong yearning for goat stew.
But that's just one thing. There are many things! My fellow merchants have many, many opinions about all sorts of things, and it turns out that once you put any sort of 'organizer' or 'facilitator' tag with your name, you are contractually obligated to listen to all of them. And fix them.
I am very much considering just getting very drunk.
Written By Perronne
March 4, 2019, 7:45 a.m.(9/5/1010 AR)
Stability!
It's not a dirty word, although if you'd asked me right around ten years ago, I'd have disagreed. Then, I had a stable path in front of me, and I didn't like the look of it, not at all. So I made everything unstable, gambled on the idea that I could walk away from the supports I'd had up to then and make it on my own. And I did! I mean, aside from a couple of bankruptcies and robberies and bouts of starvation, here and there. But even then, I mostly didn't seek out stability. I learned how to make better wagers, learned how to turn a profit in most markets, and what markets I really liked. I learned how to make sure I wouldn't starve, even if I'm stranded out in the woods with no supplies and no place in two weeks walk to buy them. Side note: turns out that once you learn how not to ruin them, furs and leathers are always good for a bit of funds, and some people will pay quite a bit for certain herbs and mushrooms that grow in the deep woods.
But what I mean to say is that until I came to Arx to try the markets, I didn't really have a conception of stability as a thing I wanted. In a way, I was fleeing from it again - my usual rounds, despite going all over the Compact, had become too well known, and I knew too well what to expect along the way. Arx was the new thing, the greater test. And now, with sales from the Almanac reaching a steady level, and the expansion of my trading houses, suddenly I have stability again - steady income, at least, that doesn't rely on me having to make a deal right now. I set things in motion, I write letters, I hire factors, I do research...and the money just flows in.
It's so weird! Do I like it? Maybe. Once you've starved, the thought of having a steady income is nice. And once you've had to live by your wits to eat or not, the idea of some sort of stability is double nice. But is it too much? I don't know. I don't know. We'll see how the trading houses go, and then see what I can turn my thoughts to, next.
It's not a dirty word, although if you'd asked me right around ten years ago, I'd have disagreed. Then, I had a stable path in front of me, and I didn't like the look of it, not at all. So I made everything unstable, gambled on the idea that I could walk away from the supports I'd had up to then and make it on my own. And I did! I mean, aside from a couple of bankruptcies and robberies and bouts of starvation, here and there. But even then, I mostly didn't seek out stability. I learned how to make better wagers, learned how to turn a profit in most markets, and what markets I really liked. I learned how to make sure I wouldn't starve, even if I'm stranded out in the woods with no supplies and no place in two weeks walk to buy them. Side note: turns out that once you learn how not to ruin them, furs and leathers are always good for a bit of funds, and some people will pay quite a bit for certain herbs and mushrooms that grow in the deep woods.
But what I mean to say is that until I came to Arx to try the markets, I didn't really have a conception of stability as a thing I wanted. In a way, I was fleeing from it again - my usual rounds, despite going all over the Compact, had become too well known, and I knew too well what to expect along the way. Arx was the new thing, the greater test. And now, with sales from the Almanac reaching a steady level, and the expansion of my trading houses, suddenly I have stability again - steady income, at least, that doesn't rely on me having to make a deal right now. I set things in motion, I write letters, I hire factors, I do research...and the money just flows in.
It's so weird! Do I like it? Maybe. Once you've starved, the thought of having a steady income is nice. And once you've had to live by your wits to eat or not, the idea of some sort of stability is double nice. But is it too much? I don't know. I don't know. We'll see how the trading houses go, and then see what I can turn my thoughts to, next.
Written By Perronne
March 2, 2019, 10:05 a.m.(9/2/1010 AR)
There was a cat in bed with me when I woke up this morning.
No, I don't own a cat! Not that I would mind, necessarily, but I just don't have the time to really take care of an animal, and sometimes I go out on expeditions and it would be cruel to expect the creature to fend for itself - although, if any animal can, a cat would be it. Not that dogs aren't quite good at it - terrifyingly good at it, actually. On some roads, the most fearsome threat you'd face wasn't shavs, but rather feral dogs who'd banded together in packs to hunt whatever suited them. No fear of people, you see, and no love for them, either. They'd mostly go after pack animals, but I've got a bite scar on my arm from an attack when I was on the road. Scary mutts! But, also not the point.
The POINT is that I woke up with a cat that wasn't mine curled up in the small of my back. The perils of summer and having to keep the windows open all the time. He was a bit manky and skittish, but I cut up some dried sausage I had intended for my breakfast, and let him munch on that while I ate the cheese. He didn't want to be touched, and after he was finished, he hopped out of the window and strolled away across the roofs, as proud as you please. Not so much as a 'thank you', of course!
And now there are fleas. Ugh.
No, I don't own a cat! Not that I would mind, necessarily, but I just don't have the time to really take care of an animal, and sometimes I go out on expeditions and it would be cruel to expect the creature to fend for itself - although, if any animal can, a cat would be it. Not that dogs aren't quite good at it - terrifyingly good at it, actually. On some roads, the most fearsome threat you'd face wasn't shavs, but rather feral dogs who'd banded together in packs to hunt whatever suited them. No fear of people, you see, and no love for them, either. They'd mostly go after pack animals, but I've got a bite scar on my arm from an attack when I was on the road. Scary mutts! But, also not the point.
The POINT is that I woke up with a cat that wasn't mine curled up in the small of my back. The perils of summer and having to keep the windows open all the time. He was a bit manky and skittish, but I cut up some dried sausage I had intended for my breakfast, and let him munch on that while I ate the cheese. He didn't want to be touched, and after he was finished, he hopped out of the window and strolled away across the roofs, as proud as you please. Not so much as a 'thank you', of course!
And now there are fleas. Ugh.
Written By Perronne
Feb. 25, 2019, 2:07 p.m.(8/20/1010 AR)
I should probably talk a bit about the Kismet Carnival, since I attended the Arx version and had great fun there. It was housed in a great hall, which while odd at first, was truly an inspired choice - no need to try and set up pavilions to be safe from the weather, and it allowed the performances to really fill the hall. There were games, songs, acrobatics, knife throwing, and a selection of the best beers that I've tasted in a while. If the Kismet Carnivals traveling the land have even a fraction of this sort of excitement, then it's no wonder they are fantastic successes.
The only thing that was missing was dancing. But that's just because I do love a good dance or five, and it would have been fun. I think I'll return to the Hall at some point and try my luck against some of the games again.
The only thing that was missing was dancing. But that's just because I do love a good dance or five, and it would have been fun. I think I'll return to the Hall at some point and try my luck against some of the games again.
Written By Perronne
Feb. 21, 2019, 2:49 p.m.(8/12/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Brass
It's hard to trust someone who appears out of nowhere with an offer with a high price, especially a risky one where success can't be guaranteed. And I've never been unclear on the costs of the offers before us - all of them. Anyone reading this can check previous journals for my initial thoughts if they're that interested and haven't read them already. The Cardian and Imperial offers are very concrete, and the representatives of both nations have crossed the t's and dotted the I's as much as we have asked them to do about what the offer would entail, and what the cost would be, and what we might expect. Whether you like the offers or not, it's certainly comforting to have that certainty.
Brass and Ashe are more...nebulous. I never met Copper, so I don't have any affection for her apprentice just because she IS her apprentice, and I honestly don't have enough knowledge of who the Metallics were, or are, to trust them or anyone associated with them just because they're named after a metal. My initial reaction was to support the Imperial offer, not because anyone named Platinum was involved, but because the one thing that everyone - even the Cardian representative - seemed to agree on is that they'd deliver what they said they would. You might not LIKE it, but you'd get what was written. And most even seem to agree that the Empire's aims are understandable, even if their methods are things some find reprehensible. I still have a lot of affection for the idea, if I'm honest. It would protect the most about the Compact with the least amount of risk and damage to the innocent, and that's a pretty good bargain. So that's my bias.
That said, the only 'ultimatum' Brass has offered is to point out that he doesn't want to work with us unless we treat our people better. To stop thralldom - a practice which four fifths of the Compact already condemns and has wanted to eliminate for hundreds of years. To address ongoing exploitation of serfs and "smallfolk" across the Compact, something that goes on every day, in every fealty, and that very few of us would justify if we were forced to defend it directly. But we don't defend it. We mostly just don't talk about it. Try to ignore it. If there is any ultimatum that Brass has offered, it is a challenge for us to be the people that we always wanted to be, to live up to the ideals that we like to talk about as long as they don't cost us. We shouldn't have to be incentivized to do the right thing, but we're human, and we like things, so I guess we do.
Because that's really what it is, the help Brass offers. An incentive. One that wasn't expected, and that we're not entitled to. A reward, in some ways, for doing the hard work that we should be willing to do without anyone offering us a single thing...but that we're weren't. That we haven't been. And, I mean, that's humbling. And not in the good way. It stings. It's very tempting to push that sting onto the person who forced us to face what we haven't been doing. Say it's their fault we 'have' to deal with it. Call them a hypocrite for expecting something in return for aid that literally no one else can give us, and aid that we haven't in any way earned. It feels good, and a lot more righteous than facing the fact that we've been supporting the unsupportable for centuries, and maybe it's time we stop.
Even if there was no Brass.
Even if no one offered us even a bit of help, even if we had to do it all on our own.
Maybe it's time we were better.
Brass and Ashe are more...nebulous. I never met Copper, so I don't have any affection for her apprentice just because she IS her apprentice, and I honestly don't have enough knowledge of who the Metallics were, or are, to trust them or anyone associated with them just because they're named after a metal. My initial reaction was to support the Imperial offer, not because anyone named Platinum was involved, but because the one thing that everyone - even the Cardian representative - seemed to agree on is that they'd deliver what they said they would. You might not LIKE it, but you'd get what was written. And most even seem to agree that the Empire's aims are understandable, even if their methods are things some find reprehensible. I still have a lot of affection for the idea, if I'm honest. It would protect the most about the Compact with the least amount of risk and damage to the innocent, and that's a pretty good bargain. So that's my bias.
That said, the only 'ultimatum' Brass has offered is to point out that he doesn't want to work with us unless we treat our people better. To stop thralldom - a practice which four fifths of the Compact already condemns and has wanted to eliminate for hundreds of years. To address ongoing exploitation of serfs and "smallfolk" across the Compact, something that goes on every day, in every fealty, and that very few of us would justify if we were forced to defend it directly. But we don't defend it. We mostly just don't talk about it. Try to ignore it. If there is any ultimatum that Brass has offered, it is a challenge for us to be the people that we always wanted to be, to live up to the ideals that we like to talk about as long as they don't cost us. We shouldn't have to be incentivized to do the right thing, but we're human, and we like things, so I guess we do.
Because that's really what it is, the help Brass offers. An incentive. One that wasn't expected, and that we're not entitled to. A reward, in some ways, for doing the hard work that we should be willing to do without anyone offering us a single thing...but that we're weren't. That we haven't been. And, I mean, that's humbling. And not in the good way. It stings. It's very tempting to push that sting onto the person who forced us to face what we haven't been doing. Say it's their fault we 'have' to deal with it. Call them a hypocrite for expecting something in return for aid that literally no one else can give us, and aid that we haven't in any way earned. It feels good, and a lot more righteous than facing the fact that we've been supporting the unsupportable for centuries, and maybe it's time we stop.
Even if there was no Brass.
Even if no one offered us even a bit of help, even if we had to do it all on our own.
Maybe it's time we were better.
Written By Perronne
Feb. 19, 2019, 9:57 p.m.(8/9/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Vincenzo
After a conversation in the tavern, and now reading a particular journal, I absolutely challenge Vincenzo Villente to make cabbages the new fashion in Arx. Whether that is pink cabbage hats, or cabbage dresses, or whatever!
This is a thing that should happen, and I will happily promise him a reasonable boon of his choice if he chooses to take up the challenge and succeeds. If he's interested, he can contact me so that we might determine the terms of success!
This is a thing that should happen, and I will happily promise him a reasonable boon of his choice if he chooses to take up the challenge and succeeds. If he's interested, he can contact me so that we might determine the terms of success!
Written By Perronne
Feb. 17, 2019, 9:21 a.m.(8/3/1010 AR)
Ah, gods.
Waking up in a hay wagon with a head pounding so hard it sounds like a stampede is no longer as fun as it was ten years ago. Wait, no, the head portion was never fun. Drinking is not a good way to handle sadness. Mistakes were made, judging by the emptiness of my purse, but I don't remember any of them.
I think, after finishing this, I'm going to drag myself to a bathhouse, then go home and try to forget THIS side of the day, too.
Waking up in a hay wagon with a head pounding so hard it sounds like a stampede is no longer as fun as it was ten years ago. Wait, no, the head portion was never fun. Drinking is not a good way to handle sadness. Mistakes were made, judging by the emptiness of my purse, but I don't remember any of them.
I think, after finishing this, I'm going to drag myself to a bathhouse, then go home and try to forget THIS side of the day, too.
Written By Perronne
Feb. 16, 2019, 11:36 a.m.(8/2/1010 AR)
Oh, no.
I sit here with the journal in front of me, and to one side, a sealed vellum letter. I haven't opened it, yet. I don't want to open it. See, it's the GOOD vellum, and it's my grandfather's seal. Good news usually comes from my father, in the sturdy parchment he uses for writing his reports, and a plain wax seal. If it's exceptionally good news, it might come from my mother's desk, with her seal (although never her handwriting - she prefers dictation). But grandfather and the good vellum means the news is bad. Or rather, that /I/ am bad, and the news is to inform me of that fact, and remind me that my family and my parents are counting on me to know my place and not to bring embarrassment to the family by drawing too much attention, and the wrong kind of attention, to myself. I'm pretty sure I've failed in all categories, with that.
I wasn't thinking. Arx is so...different. Intoxicating. So easy to forget the boundaries, to start to think, "Why not me?" When there are a thousand reasons why not me.
I need to open it. I might be wrong; maybe it's not about me at all. Maybe Papa or Mama are sick, or injured, or worse, and I need to know that. I just need to sit here a while, first, and work up the courage.
I sit here with the journal in front of me, and to one side, a sealed vellum letter. I haven't opened it, yet. I don't want to open it. See, it's the GOOD vellum, and it's my grandfather's seal. Good news usually comes from my father, in the sturdy parchment he uses for writing his reports, and a plain wax seal. If it's exceptionally good news, it might come from my mother's desk, with her seal (although never her handwriting - she prefers dictation). But grandfather and the good vellum means the news is bad. Or rather, that /I/ am bad, and the news is to inform me of that fact, and remind me that my family and my parents are counting on me to know my place and not to bring embarrassment to the family by drawing too much attention, and the wrong kind of attention, to myself. I'm pretty sure I've failed in all categories, with that.
I wasn't thinking. Arx is so...different. Intoxicating. So easy to forget the boundaries, to start to think, "Why not me?" When there are a thousand reasons why not me.
I need to open it. I might be wrong; maybe it's not about me at all. Maybe Papa or Mama are sick, or injured, or worse, and I need to know that. I just need to sit here a while, first, and work up the courage.
Written By Perronne
Feb. 13, 2019, 4:30 p.m.(7/24/1010 AR)
I've had some opportunities to handle the new luxury brocade coming into the market, now. I must say, it is a remarkable and remarkably beautiful fabric. I'm not a tailor, but if I was, I would be spinning on my toes with glee at all the things I might be able to do with it. I'm going to be following the price and futures of this particular good very closely! Also, probably wearing some, eventually. Maybe. Maybe a hat? I'm not usually a hat person, not since the incident with the trees, but there are fewer trees in the city, and I feel like I could branch out a little before I'm leafed behind, fashion-wise.
Side note - there is no really good way to write a giggle in a journal. It just never sounds right. Maybe "insert giggle here" is about the best I can do. So, insert giggle here!
I also rode out with a friend to see the Amazing Appearing Castle. I hadn't had the chance to actually get out there and stare at it from a closer distance, so it was great fun to do so in good company. It is very castle-like! Does not yet seem to be exploding with monsters. Or unicorns. Or /doors/, more's the pity. I bet it's really interesting inside. There aren't even any windows to peek into! This is just unfair. The ride both eased and intensified my restlessness at the same time. Being able to put eyes on one of the interesting things in the world feels good - but it also makes you think about all the other interesting things out there that I've never had a chance to see, to touch. To price for reasonable sale!
Dilemma: Being a good merchant at the level I am working at, especially with projects like the Almanac, pretty much requires that I have a stable home base and that I keep an eye on the many, many moving parts that I am putting together. I can't afford to just go wandering out in the wilderness for months at a time like I once did. And yet, as I succeed in the merchanting, and the Almanacing (for certain definitions of success), I sort of crave...more. A new test. A new journey. A new challenge. It makes me restless!
On the other hand, hot baths, beds piled with pillows, and fresh bread at my beck and call. Civilization is addictive!
Side note - there is no really good way to write a giggle in a journal. It just never sounds right. Maybe "insert giggle here" is about the best I can do. So, insert giggle here!
I also rode out with a friend to see the Amazing Appearing Castle. I hadn't had the chance to actually get out there and stare at it from a closer distance, so it was great fun to do so in good company. It is very castle-like! Does not yet seem to be exploding with monsters. Or unicorns. Or /doors/, more's the pity. I bet it's really interesting inside. There aren't even any windows to peek into! This is just unfair. The ride both eased and intensified my restlessness at the same time. Being able to put eyes on one of the interesting things in the world feels good - but it also makes you think about all the other interesting things out there that I've never had a chance to see, to touch. To price for reasonable sale!
Dilemma: Being a good merchant at the level I am working at, especially with projects like the Almanac, pretty much requires that I have a stable home base and that I keep an eye on the many, many moving parts that I am putting together. I can't afford to just go wandering out in the wilderness for months at a time like I once did. And yet, as I succeed in the merchanting, and the Almanacing (for certain definitions of success), I sort of crave...more. A new test. A new journey. A new challenge. It makes me restless!
On the other hand, hot baths, beds piled with pillows, and fresh bread at my beck and call. Civilization is addictive!
Written By Perronne
Feb. 11, 2019, 8:53 a.m.(7/19/1010 AR)
Well, damn.
I had written a long, interesting journal entry. Well, interesting to me. And then I went to stand up, and I spilled my coffee all over and the ink wasn't dry, so it just became this flood of ink and coffee. Which was kind of pretty in a darkly marbled sort of way, but entirely unreadable. So, uh - the short version. Yay, new dresses! Yay, balls and spending time with good friends at balls! Yay, talking to a High Lord and not keeling over or exploding into a cloud of anxiety in any visible fashion. Yay, Second Edition of Merchant's Almanac (qualified yay, since now some people are kinda angry).
I guess if anyone wants the long version, they can send a letter and ask!
I had written a long, interesting journal entry. Well, interesting to me. And then I went to stand up, and I spilled my coffee all over and the ink wasn't dry, so it just became this flood of ink and coffee. Which was kind of pretty in a darkly marbled sort of way, but entirely unreadable. So, uh - the short version. Yay, new dresses! Yay, balls and spending time with good friends at balls! Yay, talking to a High Lord and not keeling over or exploding into a cloud of anxiety in any visible fashion. Yay, Second Edition of Merchant's Almanac (qualified yay, since now some people are kinda angry).
I guess if anyone wants the long version, they can send a letter and ask!
Written By Perronne
Feb. 7, 2019, 4:37 p.m.(7/12/1010 AR)
Since I haven't been able to go on my usual expeditions due to other commitments, I've been looking for my antiques in other places. It's not quite the same thrill as spending weeks in a remote Archive, tracking down all the documentation to a ruin, then gathering up a small crew and going out to see what's really there...but it still has its own form of satisfaction.
And success! I've put some of the first decent finds up in the shop. I believe my favorite is probably the snuff box - it's by no means the most expensive piece, but there's something about any animal that's sleepy that's unbearably (see what I did there) cute. Even if it's just made out of wood! I've no idea how that works, but it does.
Others might find the formal dinner service to be of greater interest, though - it carries a heraldic dragon and was originally gifted to a distant branch of House Valardin for their victory in war. That branch has long since passed, unfortunately, but for those with a strong interest in Oathlands history, it's still an excellent piece. And you can eat off of them! If you don't mind risking chipping the paint, you MONSTER. (You're not really a monster, whoever is reading this! Especially if you bought the dishes - they really are quite lovely, and I appreciate your contribution!)
For art lovers, I was actually quite pleased to acquire an original Verucci. She was a fascinating woman, a warrior and a gifted painter - I'd love to have a line on more of her work, but those that don't exist in private collections in the South have largely been destroyed over the centuries, as these things tend to be. Still, 'Landscape of Coral Keep over the Sea' is from the height of her career, and a stellar exemplar of her work. I was tempted to keep it for myself, buuuuuut it wouldn't exactly go in my rooms! It'd be like putting a golden wedding goblet in a kitchen sink.
And success! I've put some of the first decent finds up in the shop. I believe my favorite is probably the snuff box - it's by no means the most expensive piece, but there's something about any animal that's sleepy that's unbearably (see what I did there) cute. Even if it's just made out of wood! I've no idea how that works, but it does.
Others might find the formal dinner service to be of greater interest, though - it carries a heraldic dragon and was originally gifted to a distant branch of House Valardin for their victory in war. That branch has long since passed, unfortunately, but for those with a strong interest in Oathlands history, it's still an excellent piece. And you can eat off of them! If you don't mind risking chipping the paint, you MONSTER. (You're not really a monster, whoever is reading this! Especially if you bought the dishes - they really are quite lovely, and I appreciate your contribution!)
For art lovers, I was actually quite pleased to acquire an original Verucci. She was a fascinating woman, a warrior and a gifted painter - I'd love to have a line on more of her work, but those that don't exist in private collections in the South have largely been destroyed over the centuries, as these things tend to be. Still, 'Landscape of Coral Keep over the Sea' is from the height of her career, and a stellar exemplar of her work. I was tempted to keep it for myself, buuuuuut it wouldn't exactly go in my rooms! It'd be like putting a golden wedding goblet in a kitchen sink.
Written By Perronne
Feb. 4, 2019, 11:57 a.m.(7/6/1010 AR)
For those reading the various debates regarding thralldom who want to see an excellent illustrations of the horrors of the practice straight from the pen of a practitioner, look no further than Lord Archeron Tyde's recent entries. Not only the horrors of the practice on thralls, I mean, as much as people try really, really hard to talk about how not owning yourself and being forced to labor without compensation or any hope of release isn't REALLY as bad as every single one of them knows that it is, I realize that it can be hard to really care about what happens to people you don't have to see, or talk to, and who you don't have to care about. And the Isles are generally pretty good about trying to keep their thralls out of sight of the rest of the Compact, so that no one has to think about it too much, and so the only voices talking about what it's like to be a thrall are, well, those who work the thralls for their own profit.
But consider for a moment the economic and societal repercussions of the phrase regarding thrall debt: "Some represent actual debt - failed merchants, traders gone wrong, swindlers, hustlers." Aside from the casual inclusion of legitimate traders and merchants in with swindlers and hustlers in order to vilify them, I urge anyone reading this journal (who is, let's face it, likely to be of the merchant classes, and understand what it means to BE a merchant, and know that your entire livelihood can be gone in one bad deal - or one unjust action from someone who has the power to take from you without compensation, and also hi! Hope you're doing well out there, and I'm sorry, I'm sure I'll get back to cheerful stuff eventually!) to consider what it means to be a merchant in the Isles. To be one of the thousand marginal traders, knowing that your fortunes, your life, are already at the whims of so much. But in the Isles, not only are they at the mercy of time, tides, and bandits, but also knowing that a single bandit attack on your caravan might not just cost you everything you own, your pride and honor, your ability to feed your family - but it also means that you can be thrown into chains for the entirety of your life, not to work as an honest woman, but to BE WORKED like a beast of the field, beaten, sold, and broken at the whim of your owner. And no one will care, because now you're a criminal. At least the Inquisition would go after the richest of the merchant classes, and not the poorest. Their accusations were also more interesting - I mean, if I am going to be abducted and tortured and murdered, I'd definitely want it to be for something exciting like treason, rather than just having a bad run in the markets.
Moving on from the more self-interested commentary, consider this phrase from Lord Archeron's recent journal: "The other is that the Isles is a place where a life has a value. I don't mean to say that other fealties are different. But I mean in this case a quite literal value. People are weighed in silver, and dispensed with in the same fashion. It is hard and cruel. " First, let us be clear that the lord admits that this is cruelty, entrenched and enshrined and supported. But also think about the poison of culture that this entire idea represents! As a merchant, I can tell you that how people look at INVENTORY and how people look at PEOPLE has to be different. You can't treat your inventory as a person - in order to make a profit, you have to be willing to buy and sell inventory, to dump it when it won't make a profit, and to control where it goes and how it is used - and it is always USED, never consulted on its opinion on the matter. And when you start having people AS inventory, then you can't keep that apart for long, and this is what happens. Lord Archeron is entirely right: in the Isles, you are weighed in silver, and it is cruel. And it has repercussions for everything else about the Isles that is hard, and cruel. Those things aren't inevitable. It's not something in the water, or the air, or a weird sort of brain fever that invades your mind as soon as you set foot on the Isles and turns you into a large, grumpy monster. It's an addiction, a poison. It's the collected result of misery perpetrated on other human beings over centuries, of the lies and dishonor one must embrace in order to weigh people's worth in silver, to treat people as inventory, to teach your children how to capture, break and work other human beings until they drop and are thrown away.
But consider for a moment the economic and societal repercussions of the phrase regarding thrall debt: "Some represent actual debt - failed merchants, traders gone wrong, swindlers, hustlers." Aside from the casual inclusion of legitimate traders and merchants in with swindlers and hustlers in order to vilify them, I urge anyone reading this journal (who is, let's face it, likely to be of the merchant classes, and understand what it means to BE a merchant, and know that your entire livelihood can be gone in one bad deal - or one unjust action from someone who has the power to take from you without compensation, and also hi! Hope you're doing well out there, and I'm sorry, I'm sure I'll get back to cheerful stuff eventually!) to consider what it means to be a merchant in the Isles. To be one of the thousand marginal traders, knowing that your fortunes, your life, are already at the whims of so much. But in the Isles, not only are they at the mercy of time, tides, and bandits, but also knowing that a single bandit attack on your caravan might not just cost you everything you own, your pride and honor, your ability to feed your family - but it also means that you can be thrown into chains for the entirety of your life, not to work as an honest woman, but to BE WORKED like a beast of the field, beaten, sold, and broken at the whim of your owner. And no one will care, because now you're a criminal. At least the Inquisition would go after the richest of the merchant classes, and not the poorest. Their accusations were also more interesting - I mean, if I am going to be abducted and tortured and murdered, I'd definitely want it to be for something exciting like treason, rather than just having a bad run in the markets.
Moving on from the more self-interested commentary, consider this phrase from Lord Archeron's recent journal: "The other is that the Isles is a place where a life has a value. I don't mean to say that other fealties are different. But I mean in this case a quite literal value. People are weighed in silver, and dispensed with in the same fashion. It is hard and cruel. " First, let us be clear that the lord admits that this is cruelty, entrenched and enshrined and supported. But also think about the poison of culture that this entire idea represents! As a merchant, I can tell you that how people look at INVENTORY and how people look at PEOPLE has to be different. You can't treat your inventory as a person - in order to make a profit, you have to be willing to buy and sell inventory, to dump it when it won't make a profit, and to control where it goes and how it is used - and it is always USED, never consulted on its opinion on the matter. And when you start having people AS inventory, then you can't keep that apart for long, and this is what happens. Lord Archeron is entirely right: in the Isles, you are weighed in silver, and it is cruel. And it has repercussions for everything else about the Isles that is hard, and cruel. Those things aren't inevitable. It's not something in the water, or the air, or a weird sort of brain fever that invades your mind as soon as you set foot on the Isles and turns you into a large, grumpy monster. It's an addiction, a poison. It's the collected result of misery perpetrated on other human beings over centuries, of the lies and dishonor one must embrace in order to weigh people's worth in silver, to treat people as inventory, to teach your children how to capture, break and work other human beings until they drop and are thrown away.
Written By Perronne
Feb. 3, 2019, 10:17 a.m.(7/4/1010 AR)
I don't usually commit political stuff to the whites; many people do a better job of that than I, and honestly, I'd prefer people to ask me in a non-static format because it's a lot easier to have a discussion through letters or over drinks than it is to make the Scholars' pull their hair out trying to trade journals back and forth. So this won't be a discussion on whether thralldom is right: pretty much everyone knows the answer to that, and outside the Isles, the Compact's been pretty clear about it for centuries now, and so has our Church.
I could speak a lot about how the economics of slavery hurt everyone (even those of us not in the Isles!) except a small, privileged group of slave holders who benefit from the free labor and the ability to work labor to death and not have to provide healers, adequate food, shelter, clothing. I could point out how it's common knowledge that the Isles bring only their most broken thralls to Arx, or those who have families remaining in the Isles to be punished in their place (and let us be clear that 'punish' means starvation, beatings, torture, or execution, not being sent to their room without supper), because otherwise, thralls will do everything and anything to escape, and most of the rest of the Compact will shelter them when they do. Or explain the perverse incentives for enslaving "criminals" when there is a financial incentive to do so - and those who decide who is a criminal without recourse or appeal also benefit the most from their enslavement.
But, really, those things are common knowledge to most people, no matter how we avoid talking about it so that we can continue to trade with and court the favor of the Isles. So that we can tell ourselves that, hey, there's nothing we can do about it anyway. And I do say 'we', because I'm a merchant, and I've definitely bought and traded thrall-made goods. I've done business in the Isles. Not all the time, but sometimes. And I've told myself that, well, I don't have any power to change it. I would only be making enemies I can't afford to make by refusing to trade it. Maybe that's even true, as far as it goes, but it's also...sort of inadequate.
So, I'm not gonna tell any lord or lady of the Isles what they should do. They already know. I'm not going to say that it'll be easy or that there's a way to abolish thralldom in any land where someone new doesn't get hurt, including merchants like myself. People ARE going to get hurt. But - I can say that I am a very good economist, and a very good merchant, and a reasonably clever person, and if anyone wants to talk about how to do it where the hurt is mitigated to the best extent possible without just pretending that ten years from now or fifty years from now or a hundred years from now we won't be having the exact same conversation and it will NEVER be a good time to do the right thing - well, not only will I help, but I'll do it for free, provided that my expertise is actually listened to and not just used as a wall to throw excuses at.
And I'll do that whether the Compact chooses Brass or not, because it's still RIGHT to do it whether we're getting shiny things from it or not.
I could speak a lot about how the economics of slavery hurt everyone (even those of us not in the Isles!) except a small, privileged group of slave holders who benefit from the free labor and the ability to work labor to death and not have to provide healers, adequate food, shelter, clothing. I could point out how it's common knowledge that the Isles bring only their most broken thralls to Arx, or those who have families remaining in the Isles to be punished in their place (and let us be clear that 'punish' means starvation, beatings, torture, or execution, not being sent to their room without supper), because otherwise, thralls will do everything and anything to escape, and most of the rest of the Compact will shelter them when they do. Or explain the perverse incentives for enslaving "criminals" when there is a financial incentive to do so - and those who decide who is a criminal without recourse or appeal also benefit the most from their enslavement.
But, really, those things are common knowledge to most people, no matter how we avoid talking about it so that we can continue to trade with and court the favor of the Isles. So that we can tell ourselves that, hey, there's nothing we can do about it anyway. And I do say 'we', because I'm a merchant, and I've definitely bought and traded thrall-made goods. I've done business in the Isles. Not all the time, but sometimes. And I've told myself that, well, I don't have any power to change it. I would only be making enemies I can't afford to make by refusing to trade it. Maybe that's even true, as far as it goes, but it's also...sort of inadequate.
So, I'm not gonna tell any lord or lady of the Isles what they should do. They already know. I'm not going to say that it'll be easy or that there's a way to abolish thralldom in any land where someone new doesn't get hurt, including merchants like myself. People ARE going to get hurt. But - I can say that I am a very good economist, and a very good merchant, and a reasonably clever person, and if anyone wants to talk about how to do it where the hurt is mitigated to the best extent possible without just pretending that ten years from now or fifty years from now or a hundred years from now we won't be having the exact same conversation and it will NEVER be a good time to do the right thing - well, not only will I help, but I'll do it for free, provided that my expertise is actually listened to and not just used as a wall to throw excuses at.
And I'll do that whether the Compact chooses Brass or not, because it's still RIGHT to do it whether we're getting shiny things from it or not.
Written By Perronne
Feb. 2, 2019, 11:58 p.m.(7/3/1010 AR)
I got to dance tonight!
I danced with Shard, who is a mercenary and also sort of a Queen, which is a pretty interesting blend of things, if you think about it. And she's a very interesting person, and not nearly so scary as I thought she was at the very first - but I think maybe she was just very surprised (see above for 'sort of a Queen' for context of surprise), because she's actually very nice. I hope that we can speak again!
The dresses and outfits at the Grayson Ball were beautiful. A ball really is a special sort of place, with dozens or even hundreds of moving artworks mingling in a weird sort of harmony. I could watch people moving about like that for hours, just studying what they're wearing, how they're moving - and what both say about other things in their lives about the relative wealth of their estates, about who is contemplating alliance (or war!) with who, the political factions. It's always so grand and interesting!
And I got to dance, which I adore.
I danced with Shard, who is a mercenary and also sort of a Queen, which is a pretty interesting blend of things, if you think about it. And she's a very interesting person, and not nearly so scary as I thought she was at the very first - but I think maybe she was just very surprised (see above for 'sort of a Queen' for context of surprise), because she's actually very nice. I hope that we can speak again!
The dresses and outfits at the Grayson Ball were beautiful. A ball really is a special sort of place, with dozens or even hundreds of moving artworks mingling in a weird sort of harmony. I could watch people moving about like that for hours, just studying what they're wearing, how they're moving - and what both say about other things in their lives about the relative wealth of their estates, about who is contemplating alliance (or war!) with who, the political factions. It's always so grand and interesting!
And I got to dance, which I adore.
Written By Perronne
Feb. 1, 2019, 7:54 a.m.(6/27/1010 AR)
I have a few friends who like to think of journals as writing letters to Vellichor. Not in the sense of 'the god swoops down, picks up a journal, and reads it', but more like in the sense of 'would you want your mother to read that journal' - like, thinking of a journal being addressed TO a god helps them keep themselves from saying things that are gonna come back to haunt them down the line. If you wouldn't say it to Vellichor's face (does he have a face? If he does, I bet he has a beard) then keep it to the blacks.
I can't do that. It's paralyzing! I would not know what to say to a god at all, much less assume one was interested in what I write. I also can't go with 'what if your mother was reading this journal' because oh wow, I would not want my mother to read any of my journals. Pretty much ever. And if I could write to a god, then it probably wouldn't be the god of Wisdom for reasons shared with why I rarely write to my mother: it opens one to critique that I'm sure (if my mother is any judge) would be polite, well-meaning, and utterly cutting. Because I'm not exactly a wise person.
Which is what all the above was trying to get to: I'm not a particularly wise person. I know a fair number of things, which are mostly useless outside my very specific niche, although WITHIN that niche, they are immensely profitable and very entertaining! But I can admit that a wise person wouldn't really do the things I do, which mostly involve impulse and luck and having failed miserably enough times to be able to avoid most common points of failure on repeat. Although I always find new ways to fail! I am very good at that.
All of which is to say that sometimes I question my life choices, really.
I can't do that. It's paralyzing! I would not know what to say to a god at all, much less assume one was interested in what I write. I also can't go with 'what if your mother was reading this journal' because oh wow, I would not want my mother to read any of my journals. Pretty much ever. And if I could write to a god, then it probably wouldn't be the god of Wisdom for reasons shared with why I rarely write to my mother: it opens one to critique that I'm sure (if my mother is any judge) would be polite, well-meaning, and utterly cutting. Because I'm not exactly a wise person.
Which is what all the above was trying to get to: I'm not a particularly wise person. I know a fair number of things, which are mostly useless outside my very specific niche, although WITHIN that niche, they are immensely profitable and very entertaining! But I can admit that a wise person wouldn't really do the things I do, which mostly involve impulse and luck and having failed miserably enough times to be able to avoid most common points of failure on repeat. Although I always find new ways to fail! I am very good at that.
All of which is to say that sometimes I question my life choices, really.
Written By Perronne
Jan. 29, 2019, 6:54 p.m.(6/22/1010 AR)
Wonderful things about summer:
Fireflies, watermelons, thunderstorms where the sky cracks and booms while the rain drums so hard on the ground that it bounces, fishing in the early morning, bathing in the evening in cool water, noon sun reflecting off the water of a hidden pond fed by a forest spring, summer markets heavy with the scent of freshly harvested herbs.
Terrible things about summer:
Sticky and sweaty days, my hair going POOF in a very undignified way, thunderstorms with wind that sends the rain straight through your windows to make a big puddle on your floor and soak your favorite shirt that you were TRYING to DRY, and insects.
Especially the blasted insects.
Fireflies, watermelons, thunderstorms where the sky cracks and booms while the rain drums so hard on the ground that it bounces, fishing in the early morning, bathing in the evening in cool water, noon sun reflecting off the water of a hidden pond fed by a forest spring, summer markets heavy with the scent of freshly harvested herbs.
Terrible things about summer:
Sticky and sweaty days, my hair going POOF in a very undignified way, thunderstorms with wind that sends the rain straight through your windows to make a big puddle on your floor and soak your favorite shirt that you were TRYING to DRY, and insects.
Especially the blasted insects.
Written By Perronne
Jan. 26, 2019, 8:44 p.m.(6/16/1010 AR)
THE KING CAME TO MY BIRTHDAY PARTY.
That is all. I'm just going to be over here, making excited noises, forever.
That is all. I'm just going to be over here, making excited noises, forever.
Written By Perronne
Jan. 24, 2019, 2:20 p.m.(6/12/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Selene
Goodness. Today I met the former Radiant, and she is...pretty much everything I always thought a Whisper would be. Dignified, graceful, beautiful, a wonderful conversationalist, and someone who makes you feel as if what you say is really heard, and really matters, even when it's just silliness that falls out of your mouth. I understand that she's been out of the city for some time, doing Interesting Whisper Things, but now that she's back, I think she's going to have a lot to do, and be very in demand!
Written By Perronne
Jan. 22, 2019, 11:53 p.m.(6/9/1010 AR)
The King said something nice about me! THE KING! The actual, real, honest King! Probably. I mean, maybe he had a scribe write - he probably did, really, because he's far too busy writing to every Crown functionary (which now includes me!) who happens to manage to fulfill a task for him. But the words "quite impressed" were used, and I am going to CHOOSE to BELIEVE that at some point he dictated those words to someone who then wrote them down and put his seal of approval on them. About me!
Maybe I will frame it! QUITE IMPRESSED.
Maybe I will frame it! QUITE IMPRESSED.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.