Written By Abbas
April 2, 2017, 1:17 p.m.(3/14/1006 AR)
War comes to Arx. And I look from the balcony window with an eye to the port. I must confess I care little about this war besides the glory of my brethren who must unfortunately miss the death and rather Thraxian war that will take place in the Salt.
So long as the port remains open my time shall be spent killing Gyre. With luck they won't let Arx get sacked while I spread fear in the deep.
So long as the port remains open my time shall be spent killing Gyre. With luck they won't let Arx get sacked while I spread fear in the deep.
Written By Abbas
March 10, 2017, 1:35 p.m.(1/24/1006 AR)
Soon I will be waging war in the Saffron chain. Mainlanders know that when Thrax changes it changes for Thrax and not at the whim and the will of others. Our ways will hold that make sense to hold. We shall bend but we shall never break. Concessions now are not permanent changes in who we are, what we do, and what we will become.
We have already become. We are Thraxians.
The Salt trembles in our wake.
We have already become. We are Thraxians.
The Salt trembles in our wake.
Written By Abbas
March 10, 2017, 1:34 p.m.(1/24/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Katarina
Katarina has been an interesting discovery. She is one of the few in Arx I can converse in the language of my father. I look forward to understanding more of her and determining if she can be trusted.
Written By Abbas
March 10, 2017, 1:33 p.m.(1/24/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Zaina
Zaina Pyrani has proven herself trustworthy for a considerable time. Her loyalty to my family is without question. And I shall stand in front of her in all things. Naturally the child we are having shall receive the same consideration.
Written By Abbas
March 5, 2017, 9:58 a.m.(1/13/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Katarina
A Eurusi princess -- one with an attractive hue about her. Only with my family and the lingering one or two servants that served my father and mother do I get to converse in the native tongue. There are days I hunger for blood and war in the Dune Kingdoms.
I shall have to seek her out and get to know this one's tale.
I shall have to seek her out and get to know this one's tale.
Written By Abbas
March 5, 2017, 9:56 a.m.(1/13/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Julea
As the days of past I have grow fond and accustomed to the presence of the Marin. I knew her mother -- in a manner and briefly. And at first confused her for the same woman.
The daughter is much preferred.
The daughter is much preferred.
Written By Abbas
March 5, 2017, 9:54 a.m.(1/13/1006 AR)
Sometimes I feel there is a darkness lingering under the surface. Steering you. Making you act.
This day each week I feel compelled to write. I have no desires, except this day -- to ever write. But when I wake there is a dull urge in the back of my head that transitions into some drivel or another.
I loathe paperwork. I don't mind maps. Strategy. Battle. And steering headfirst into a foul wind with axe in hand. But I loathe expressing myself in this manner. Except this day.
A strange thing.
A world of demons and elves. Of blood magic. Strange tides ahead.
This day each week I feel compelled to write. I have no desires, except this day -- to ever write. But when I wake there is a dull urge in the back of my head that transitions into some drivel or another.
I loathe paperwork. I don't mind maps. Strategy. Battle. And steering headfirst into a foul wind with axe in hand. But I loathe expressing myself in this manner. Except this day.
A strange thing.
A world of demons and elves. Of blood magic. Strange tides ahead.
Written By Abbas
Feb. 26, 2017, 11:53 a.m.(12/28/1005 AR)
Change is not easy. Nor is it wise to ignore the value and fury of something when it takes form.
Over the years of Reaving I have ignored something that I have seen. That women are capable and in many cases more dangers a foe and more ferocious as butchers than men. These women of Thrax and those that have bent the knee that have salt in their veins are often forced to the margins of the merchant fleets. They must seek their own path and are denied the fury and Salt that boils their hearts and makes them thirst for death and glory under the Serpent Banner.
I have held traditions close. My time in Arx has seen to it that my eyes have been opened. I have seen the model broken and the ferocity of those who were born absent masculine tradition. I do not deny a woman's place in the home and in our culture is set and shall not change. I simply allow her now a place in the Salt where she may seek to temper her fire among the supple necks of our coin laden enemies.
Three retired Thraxian longships have been commissioned under my authority as Warlord. They are small investments and to be self-funded.
The Termagent
The Harridan
The Doyenne
They shall operate and be crewed by women. The Thraxian and knee bent women whom seek to express their fury. To crew one of these ships one cannot simply be alive. They must pass trials and have the sponsorship of someone of respect and repute. Or they must be so vicious and capable that denial of their prowess would be simply an act of stupidity.
These ships will operate together. They will be a test of the waters and they shall only operate as long as the Gods bless them to do so. This is a test and nothing more. Should this fail and the folly of this decision be made evident I shall take full responsibility. This is something I do as Warlord of Thrax and upon my full authority to commission and execute.
Any whom shall challenge my decision. I shall wait for you in the Salt. You know my banners. And we shall see if I do not possess the ferocity of heart and mind to make a determination of the skill of those who would sail in my fleet.
Warlord Abbas Thrax
Over the years of Reaving I have ignored something that I have seen. That women are capable and in many cases more dangers a foe and more ferocious as butchers than men. These women of Thrax and those that have bent the knee that have salt in their veins are often forced to the margins of the merchant fleets. They must seek their own path and are denied the fury and Salt that boils their hearts and makes them thirst for death and glory under the Serpent Banner.
I have held traditions close. My time in Arx has seen to it that my eyes have been opened. I have seen the model broken and the ferocity of those who were born absent masculine tradition. I do not deny a woman's place in the home and in our culture is set and shall not change. I simply allow her now a place in the Salt where she may seek to temper her fire among the supple necks of our coin laden enemies.
Three retired Thraxian longships have been commissioned under my authority as Warlord. They are small investments and to be self-funded.
The Termagent
The Harridan
The Doyenne
They shall operate and be crewed by women. The Thraxian and knee bent women whom seek to express their fury. To crew one of these ships one cannot simply be alive. They must pass trials and have the sponsorship of someone of respect and repute. Or they must be so vicious and capable that denial of their prowess would be simply an act of stupidity.
These ships will operate together. They will be a test of the waters and they shall only operate as long as the Gods bless them to do so. This is a test and nothing more. Should this fail and the folly of this decision be made evident I shall take full responsibility. This is something I do as Warlord of Thrax and upon my full authority to commission and execute.
Any whom shall challenge my decision. I shall wait for you in the Salt. You know my banners. And we shall see if I do not possess the ferocity of heart and mind to make a determination of the skill of those who would sail in my fleet.
Warlord Abbas Thrax
Written By Abbas
Feb. 26, 2017, 11:36 a.m.(12/28/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Victus
When it comes to my growth upon the Salt I had Donrai Thrax to guide my heart to make decisions callous of all but those born of Thrax. And to do whatever was needed, no matter how brutal -- to see to the most desirable end for the majority of those I command and protect.
When it comes to war and what it means to be a true Thraxian I always had Victus to model after. His conduct in the field was fierce and the fear before his prowess has led him to defy tradition and ascend to what he has earned in blood and glory. I took the fleet and used my influence to help secure his rule in the Maelstrom. And I shall readily follow him into ruin and damnation to forge ourselves in the fire through these dark days ahead; for we shall emerge stronger and more powerful than those lesser people who would crumble under the strain of it all.
It is in his honor that I am now at the head of the Leviathan and the Warlord of Thrax.
It is in his honor that I shall not fail. And while he tends to running the realm I shall see to it that the Serpent Banners reign upon the Salt with the fury and that it will be the gutted bellies of our enemies who drench the tides and feed the blood tithe.
I have worked all my life for this and I shall not squander it.
When it comes to war and what it means to be a true Thraxian I always had Victus to model after. His conduct in the field was fierce and the fear before his prowess has led him to defy tradition and ascend to what he has earned in blood and glory. I took the fleet and used my influence to help secure his rule in the Maelstrom. And I shall readily follow him into ruin and damnation to forge ourselves in the fire through these dark days ahead; for we shall emerge stronger and more powerful than those lesser people who would crumble under the strain of it all.
It is in his honor that I am now at the head of the Leviathan and the Warlord of Thrax.
It is in his honor that I shall not fail. And while he tends to running the realm I shall see to it that the Serpent Banners reign upon the Salt with the fury and that it will be the gutted bellies of our enemies who drench the tides and feed the blood tithe.
I have worked all my life for this and I shall not squander it.
Written By Abbas
Jan. 29, 2017, 10:04 p.m.(10/18/1005 AR)
Mad times call for sharp axes. We are not bending the knee to our enemies. We are only getting stronger to slay them.
Written By Abbas
Jan. 22, 2017, 9:17 a.m.(9/23/1005 AR)
War comes to Arvum and the Salt seems still. While everyone looks to the obvious I shall tend to what I know to be true. Under the calm surface the currents always rage and flow. There never is stillness only the lull of the illusion that is the folly of men and fleets alike. I have always had a natural sense of the current and her pull right now is more treacherous than ever.
It reminds me of a poem I once read. Or perhaps a woman reminds me thus. I'm unsure.
Ocean, if you were to give, a measure, a ferment, a fruit
of your gifts and destructions, into my hand,
I would choose your far-off repose, your contour of steel,
your vigilant spaces of air and darkness,
and the power of your white tongue,
that shatters and overthrows columns,
breaking them down to your proper purity.
Not the final breaker, heavy with brine,
that thunders onshore, and creates
the silence of sand, that encircles the world,
but the inner spaces of force,
the naked power of the waters,
the immoveable solitude, brimming with lives.
It is Time perhaps, or the vessel filled
with all motion, pure Oneness,
that death cannot touch, the visceral green
of consuming totality.
Only a salt kiss remains of the drowned arm,
that lifts a spray: a humid scent,
of the damp flower, is left,
from the bodies of men. Your energies
form, in a trickle that is not spent,
form, in retreat into silence.
The falling wave,
arch of identity, shattering feathers,
is only spume when it clears,
and returns to its source, unconsumed.
Your whole force heads for its origin.
The husks that your load threshes,
are only the crushed, plundered, deliveries,
that your act of abundance expelled,
all those that take life from your branches.
Your form extends beyond breakers,
vibrant, and rhythmic, like the chest, cloaking
a single being, and its breathings,
that lift into the content of light,
plains raised above waves,
forming the naked surface of earth.
You fill your true self with your substance.
You overflow curve with silence.
The vessel trembles with your salt and sweetness,
the universal cavern of waters,
and nothing is lost from you, as it is
from the desolate crater, or the bay of a hill,
those empty heights, signs, scars,
guarding the wounded air.
Your petals throbbing against the Earth,
trembling your submarine harvests,
your menace thickening the smooth swell,
with pulsations and swarming of schools,
and only the thread of the net raises
the dead lightning of fish-scale,
one wounded millimetre, in the space
of your crystal completeness.
(Pablo Neruda: The Wide Ocean)
It reminds me of a poem I once read. Or perhaps a woman reminds me thus. I'm unsure.
Ocean, if you were to give, a measure, a ferment, a fruit
of your gifts and destructions, into my hand,
I would choose your far-off repose, your contour of steel,
your vigilant spaces of air and darkness,
and the power of your white tongue,
that shatters and overthrows columns,
breaking them down to your proper purity.
Not the final breaker, heavy with brine,
that thunders onshore, and creates
the silence of sand, that encircles the world,
but the inner spaces of force,
the naked power of the waters,
the immoveable solitude, brimming with lives.
It is Time perhaps, or the vessel filled
with all motion, pure Oneness,
that death cannot touch, the visceral green
of consuming totality.
Only a salt kiss remains of the drowned arm,
that lifts a spray: a humid scent,
of the damp flower, is left,
from the bodies of men. Your energies
form, in a trickle that is not spent,
form, in retreat into silence.
The falling wave,
arch of identity, shattering feathers,
is only spume when it clears,
and returns to its source, unconsumed.
Your whole force heads for its origin.
The husks that your load threshes,
are only the crushed, plundered, deliveries,
that your act of abundance expelled,
all those that take life from your branches.
Your form extends beyond breakers,
vibrant, and rhythmic, like the chest, cloaking
a single being, and its breathings,
that lift into the content of light,
plains raised above waves,
forming the naked surface of earth.
You fill your true self with your substance.
You overflow curve with silence.
The vessel trembles with your salt and sweetness,
the universal cavern of waters,
and nothing is lost from you, as it is
from the desolate crater, or the bay of a hill,
those empty heights, signs, scars,
guarding the wounded air.
Your petals throbbing against the Earth,
trembling your submarine harvests,
your menace thickening the smooth swell,
with pulsations and swarming of schools,
and only the thread of the net raises
the dead lightning of fish-scale,
one wounded millimetre, in the space
of your crystal completeness.
(Pablo Neruda: The Wide Ocean)
Written By Abbas
Jan. 15, 2017, 5:15 p.m.(9/3/1005 AR)
Recent news back from the Salt has me troubled. Good men and wasted lives. I pray the Gods deliver us to the day we may blood those who seek to devour our existence.
Written By Abbas
Jan. 15, 2017, 5:12 p.m.(9/3/1005 AR)
You will not find me groveling before a Throne of Bones begging for help or information.
Not because I don't believe it should not be done. More because I'm inept at such things.
The fact that they did not show up in a ship rather than by land does bode well though. I've heard if you throw them in water they float.
Not because I don't believe it should not be done. More because I'm inept at such things.
The fact that they did not show up in a ship rather than by land does bode well though. I've heard if you throw them in water they float.
Written By Abbas
Jan. 7, 2017, 8:49 p.m.(8/8/1005 AR)
Thirteen. Reflections. It is my duty to my family to destroy the horrors. I am no pious Reaver. I do believe the evil needs to be driven back for its boldness into the depths. The blood tithe has come due.
Written By Abbas
Jan. 6, 2017, 3:02 p.m.(8/4/1005 AR)
Mainlanders. They deserve special hats.
Written By Abbas
Jan. 3, 2017, 3:34 p.m.(7/23/1005 AR)
A vision came to me last night. I feel like it is time.
http://laughingsquid.com/wp-content/uploads/kraken-viking-ship.jpg
http://laughingsquid.com/wp-content/uploads/kraken-viking-ship.jpg
Written By Abbas
Jan. 2, 2017, 9 p.m.(7/21/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Zaina
She has been with my sister since as long as I can remember. Never was there a more loyal servant.
I have not seen much of my sister in many years. Nor her handmaiden.
Seeing her stirs memories of my parents. There have been times when I have had to prove my loyalty with great ferocity. And I've ever been Thraxian before all. Loyal to Hisself.
I feel myself being drawn to Eurus. My last journey was cut short. But it seems there is more -- as always.
I have always been one to be drawn to the tides of emotions. They are best bottled and reserved to be let out with rage upon the vulnerable nape of one's enemies; usually with an axe.
It is good to have Zaina back.
I have not seen much of my sister in many years. Nor her handmaiden.
Seeing her stirs memories of my parents. There have been times when I have had to prove my loyalty with great ferocity. And I've ever been Thraxian before all. Loyal to Hisself.
I feel myself being drawn to Eurus. My last journey was cut short. But it seems there is more -- as always.
I have always been one to be drawn to the tides of emotions. They are best bottled and reserved to be let out with rage upon the vulnerable nape of one's enemies; usually with an axe.
It is good to have Zaina back.
Written By Abbas
Jan. 1, 2017, 8:41 p.m.(7/18/1005 AR)
Sometimes you have to be patient and let the foul wind run its course.
Sometimes you should steer into the wind and reinforce your bow.
Other times you should just sit at home and not bother with any wind at all.
Foul winds always come and go. In the Salt they usually don't last long when it comes time for war. These things sort themselves out.
Sometimes you should steer into the wind and reinforce your bow.
Other times you should just sit at home and not bother with any wind at all.
Foul winds always come and go. In the Salt they usually don't last long when it comes time for war. These things sort themselves out.
Written By Abbas
Jan. 1, 2017, 8:37 p.m.(7/18/1005 AR)
The body count has increased to hundreds in the last month. I feel like I may be slaughtering more people by sitting in Arx and going out to reave than by spending the seasons out in the Salt.
I suppose this speaks more to current circumstances than anything else.
At least it pays well, still...
I suppose this speaks more to current circumstances than anything else.
At least it pays well, still...
Written By Abbas
Dec. 28, 2016, 10:01 a.m.(7/4/1005 AR)
Gyre. Gyre. Gyre. Gyre. Gyre. Mind-controlling demon bastards.
This is only a test.
This is only a test.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.