Written By Delilah
Feb. 26, 2020, 9:21 a.m.(10/27/1012 AR)
It's good to get into the forest again. To breathe in the cooling air and walk under the trees, feeling the slow drop of the temperature as the altitude rises. The last few switchbacks on a path little taken brought me to the most exhilarating views, and the Aerie Wardens have set up their camp there to practice before the snows close in. I suspect winter will be harsher this year, but these are considerations for the Minister of Agriculture and everyone else far more familiar with the practical elements. I don't pretend to read the skies with knowledge of what comes in months ahead for the weather. I just chart and track the stars.
Still, it was so clear at those heights we could stay all night until dawn, freezing cold and admiring of the sky, marking out the charts as best we could. The records will end up at the observatory, well and good, and then we can compare them to similar efforts taken elsewhere. I ought to ask some of the noble houses to assist with the endeavours, if they have those inclined towards academic measures. Tracking out the stars is not a mere novelty but the very basis for so much important study and science, navigation foremost among them.
But my hands are freezing and my nose barely something I can feel. Returning to Arx is thrilling and nearly a let down, in some ways, after getting up to heights that would let me touch the sky.
Still, it was so clear at those heights we could stay all night until dawn, freezing cold and admiring of the sky, marking out the charts as best we could. The records will end up at the observatory, well and good, and then we can compare them to similar efforts taken elsewhere. I ought to ask some of the noble houses to assist with the endeavours, if they have those inclined towards academic measures. Tracking out the stars is not a mere novelty but the very basis for so much important study and science, navigation foremost among them.
But my hands are freezing and my nose barely something I can feel. Returning to Arx is thrilling and nearly a let down, in some ways, after getting up to heights that would let me touch the sky.
Written By Delilah
Feb. 17, 2020, 1:25 p.m.(10.323613177910053/12.122337962962963/1012.7769677648258 AR)
What a week it has been. No doubt the historians and scholars in the future will look upon the abundant commentary regarding a momentous Assembly of Peers, curious and wondering at our place in it. What gave us teh courage or energy to transform the Compact in the shape of such apparent threats or dangers, and was it a response or the culminating event?
Another great house answers to the Crown, through the tireless efforts of its members. The thundering of Skald's banners through the Saffron Isles in turn wrests focus from our eastern neighbours, and the developments of a raft of refugees swells, preparing to come to our shores. Let us not forget how many of them shall not make it, sacrificing themselves to the waves and the sands in hopes o fattaining a different life for themselves. Their blood seeps into the soil, carried under the waves, but the yearning in their spirits remains a common thread bound into a greater rope. It stretches over the ocean, linking those who come to the Compact to change their fortunes with those who did not make it.
Provocative actions bring provocative responses, of course. None of these actions happen in their own isolated cellar, cut off from the testimony of the rains and gossip of the winds. Change is not a gentle matter of transition in all spaces, but can be the violent cracking of a shell and the back-breaking labour to push away the detritus of past years in search of the sun. Growth spurs pain in the bones as a child reaches their full height. Nothing comes without some measure of labour, risk, and hardship. Else what value would it have?
Nonetheless, here we are, united beneath the Crown, facing forward into the headwinds. Where this adventure takes us, can any be sure?
Another great house answers to the Crown, through the tireless efforts of its members. The thundering of Skald's banners through the Saffron Isles in turn wrests focus from our eastern neighbours, and the developments of a raft of refugees swells, preparing to come to our shores. Let us not forget how many of them shall not make it, sacrificing themselves to the waves and the sands in hopes o fattaining a different life for themselves. Their blood seeps into the soil, carried under the waves, but the yearning in their spirits remains a common thread bound into a greater rope. It stretches over the ocean, linking those who come to the Compact to change their fortunes with those who did not make it.
Provocative actions bring provocative responses, of course. None of these actions happen in their own isolated cellar, cut off from the testimony of the rains and gossip of the winds. Change is not a gentle matter of transition in all spaces, but can be the violent cracking of a shell and the back-breaking labour to push away the detritus of past years in search of the sun. Growth spurs pain in the bones as a child reaches their full height. Nothing comes without some measure of labour, risk, and hardship. Else what value would it have?
Nonetheless, here we are, united beneath the Crown, facing forward into the headwinds. Where this adventure takes us, can any be sure?
Written By Delilah
Feb. 9, 2020, 8:44 p.m.(9.670753968253969/24.562222222222225/1012.7225628306878 AR)
I still wonder how people stay atop their messengers without a full staff for it. Some days I can scarce move without tripping over a courier.
Written By Delilah
Jan. 21, 2020, 4:50 p.m.(8.302898892195767/10.962337962962962/1012.608574907683 AR)
All my better demons
Went the way they came.
-- Falling Leaves on a Summer Night
Went the way they came.
-- Falling Leaves on a Summer Night
Written By Delilah
Jan. 15, 2020, 8:53 a.m.(7/24/1012 AR)
The mind, and our thoughts, determine our journey. What you think, you shall become.
Written By Delilah
Dec. 29, 2019, 5:02 p.m.(6/19/1012 AR)
In triumph, I can finally share these tarts with other than the back garden.
Written By Delilah
Dec. 19, 2019, 11:24 a.m.(5/26/1012 AR)
These are the times that measure the depth and intensity of our souls.
Written By Delilah
Dec. 17, 2019, 9:25 a.m.(5/22/1012 AR)
Well, this has been an unmitigated disaster of the highest water. I may never be able to show my face in here for... at least three weeks.
Camilla and Sage were both kind enough to show me how to create pastry dough. At least it should have been easy. A 'foolproof recipe,' they said, certain to be easy even for the likes of an inexperienced baker like me. At least collecting the honey from a jar was the easy part. But the pastries went in strange and came out more than uneven, rather flat and apparently savaged by a bird in the oven whilst we were trying to salvage the crumb expected to go atop it. I am not certain what they expected of me. It probably wasn't this wreckage of baked, burnt grass and lumpen rock, still soft as clay in the middle. We all agreed to bury it in the garden and feed the irises, so none would be the wiser until I set pen to paper and prove that even the vaunted heights of status don't save us from ignorance at times.
We're apparently to make a very simple biscuit with powder next week. I shall leave the domain to my inestimable bakers, patient and kind as they are. But at least the lumpy pastry disaster beats the hardtack I've had to at times endure.
Camilla and Sage were both kind enough to show me how to create pastry dough. At least it should have been easy. A 'foolproof recipe,' they said, certain to be easy even for the likes of an inexperienced baker like me. At least collecting the honey from a jar was the easy part. But the pastries went in strange and came out more than uneven, rather flat and apparently savaged by a bird in the oven whilst we were trying to salvage the crumb expected to go atop it. I am not certain what they expected of me. It probably wasn't this wreckage of baked, burnt grass and lumpen rock, still soft as clay in the middle. We all agreed to bury it in the garden and feed the irises, so none would be the wiser until I set pen to paper and prove that even the vaunted heights of status don't save us from ignorance at times.
We're apparently to make a very simple biscuit with powder next week. I shall leave the domain to my inestimable bakers, patient and kind as they are. But at least the lumpy pastry disaster beats the hardtack I've had to at times endure.
Written By Delilah
Dec. 1, 2019, 7:07 p.m.(4/19/1012 AR)
It's a good week in which I do not end up dead. It may be a better week when a wicked thing no longer achieves or accomplishes its aims thanks to the coordinated efforts of many people.
On the other hand, I plan to stay in the bath for the next ten hours thanks to an overly amorous table.
On the other hand, I plan to stay in the bath for the next ten hours thanks to an overly amorous table.
Written By Delilah
Nov. 28, 2019, 10:17 p.m.(4/13/1012 AR)
When an act of kindness comes your way, pay it forward.
I expect this is going to take me a long time to repay.
I expect this is going to take me a long time to repay.
Written By Delilah
Nov. 22, 2019, 9:16 a.m.(3/28/1012 AR)
I miss you, though we never met.
I wonder how many were touched by your hand, an act of kindness or protection, and never knew.
I remember, and doubt that one flame held up against the stifling weight of history will be enough. Hardly worthy, at any rate.
A sorrow of paper-thin years fanned across the weight of ages.
I wonder how many were touched by your hand, an act of kindness or protection, and never knew.
I remember, and doubt that one flame held up against the stifling weight of history will be enough. Hardly worthy, at any rate.
A sorrow of paper-thin years fanned across the weight of ages.
Written By Delilah
Nov. 17, 2019, 6:52 p.m.(3/19/1012 AR)
Every now and then, walking around the city reveals the most interesting tales. Did you know the death of the first Lord Commander of the Queen's Guard died of a wyvern attack on Baron Street?
Connecting those historical details with mythological stories is a lifeline to the past through the future.
Connecting those historical details with mythological stories is a lifeline to the past through the future.
Written By Delilah
Nov. 12, 2019, 11:35 a.m.(3/8/1012 AR)
This one's for the birds.
I do not envy Lord Erik Grimhall in the taming of his squeaking gyrfalcon. He no doubt will be required to perform his exhilarating one-man revue, Grimhall Bird Dance.
I do not envy Lord Erik Grimhall in the taming of his squeaking gyrfalcon. He no doubt will be required to perform his exhilarating one-man revue, Grimhall Bird Dance.
Written By Delilah
Nov. 11, 2019, 3:33 p.m.(3/6/1012 AR)
Is the new trend to present rather derivative works plagiarizing other authors and research, and present them as the truth? Or, at best, as ingenious fiction that might be mistaken for truth by a readership unaware they're being had?
Alas, it seems this is becoming a rather concerning trend in a certain literary corner. For a fine example of what good literature looks like, especially on the basis of myth and folktales, there are ample volumes for review in the Golden Page. Princess Reese and Princess Alarissa boast exceptional collections that demonstrate heroism and tragedy with exemplary written talent. Of course, the Black Rose Theatre and the many venues in the Redrain Ward offer two very different but enthralling storytelling traditions on display.
Better than grasping shreds of a story and a few sprinkling of fact, and presenting it as a shattering discovery.
Alas, it seems this is becoming a rather concerning trend in a certain literary corner. For a fine example of what good literature looks like, especially on the basis of myth and folktales, there are ample volumes for review in the Golden Page. Princess Reese and Princess Alarissa boast exceptional collections that demonstrate heroism and tragedy with exemplary written talent. Of course, the Black Rose Theatre and the many venues in the Redrain Ward offer two very different but enthralling storytelling traditions on display.
Better than grasping shreds of a story and a few sprinkling of fact, and presenting it as a shattering discovery.
Written By Delilah
Nov. 4, 2019, 8:51 a.m.(2/20/1012 AR)
How do you make today an improvement from yesterday?
What is the best way to carry on, when the weight upon your shoulders seems too great to bear?
Many answers arise from the past. Some may be familiar, and other methods await discovery. Have the tenacity to find them, even when bowed low.
What is the best way to carry on, when the weight upon your shoulders seems too great to bear?
Many answers arise from the past. Some may be familiar, and other methods await discovery. Have the tenacity to find them, even when bowed low.
Written By Delilah
Oct. 31, 2019, 2:42 p.m.(2/12/1012 AR)
A friend spoke of an important and valuable lesson: life is meant to be lived. Not only lived, but savoured.
Such wisdom belongs in the greater venue of the Compact. May we all learn to stand by that.
Such wisdom belongs in the greater venue of the Compact. May we all learn to stand by that.
Written By Delilah
Oct. 21, 2019, 12:25 p.m.(1/20/1012 AR)
If you might learn of history,
What passions it could teach you.
What passions it could teach you.
Written By Delilah
Sept. 16, 2019, 1:34 p.m.(11/6/1011 AR)
With friends like these, the world feels crisp and cozy, wreathed in woodsmoke and breathing with the effervescent depths of nutmeg, scorched cardamom, brassy cinnamon, and soul-warming brown sugars.
Written By Delilah
Sept. 10, 2019, 5:57 p.m.(10/22/1011 AR)
Times change and we may fear what alters the way things went before. That is scarce reason to stop. Reflection may be required, a difference of strategy to meet new needs, but then is not the time to cease. Fear would curb our development and growth.
Written By Delilah
Sept. 9, 2019, 1:28 p.m.(10/20/1011 AR)
The path to rapture is likewise the path to ruin.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.