Written By Shard
Jan. 17, 2020, 12:31 a.m.(7/28/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Josephine
She was my teacher, for a time. A time that was filled with busy-work and occasional conversation. It felt comfortable to sit with her in her workshop, doing small things I'd never tried before, despite the stifling heat. We were still near strangers when we last saw each other, but I won't forget those hours.
They're saying she died well. I suppose that's all anyone can ask from dying; to die well, and for the right reasons.
They're saying she died well. I suppose that's all anyone can ask from dying; to die well, and for the right reasons.
Written By Shard
Dec. 14, 2019, 3:37 p.m.(5/16/1012 AR)
There was once a great and powerful beast, so big and so strong that no one in his forest could ever truly challenge him. The beast never lacked for food, but still, it felt as though he could never quite get enough, and he was always, always looking for more, and whenever he found something, or someone, to eat, he would gobble them up without really thinking about it. And the more he ate, the larger he grew, and the less hope anyone ever had of stopping him from eating them up.
But one day, another beast turned up in the first beast's woods, and this beast was large...so large the first beast could not have imagined anything could ever be that big and powerful. The first beast puffed out his fur and bared his teeth so that the second, much larger beast would understand that these were his woods, full of his food, and the second beast would give the first beast all the respect he felt he was due.
But the second beast scoffed at what it saw as a small, tiny, insignificant thing, and went about its business without much heed for the first beast in any way whatsoever.
The first beast was furious at this disrespect, and decided that the only thing he could do to prove it was the better predator was to eat even more, even faster, and grow larger than this second beast that dared to intrude in its forest. So the first beast began to gobble up absolutely everything he could find or catch in the forest. he ate birds and rabbits and insects and deer. He ate wolves, and bears, he ate fish and berries. And he grew and grew, but no matter how much he grew the second beast was always so much larger, and it would always laugh at him. So he kept eating and eating and eating until there really wasn't much left in the forest to eat, and his stomach ached so much he could barely stand the pain, and hardly move. That's when the first beast decided that, as it was his forest, he would eat that too. And after the third tree or so, the first beast simply exploded into a messy pile of guts and gore that splattered all over his territory. When the second beast saw this he laughed himself sick.
-- A children's story.
But one day, another beast turned up in the first beast's woods, and this beast was large...so large the first beast could not have imagined anything could ever be that big and powerful. The first beast puffed out his fur and bared his teeth so that the second, much larger beast would understand that these were his woods, full of his food, and the second beast would give the first beast all the respect he felt he was due.
But the second beast scoffed at what it saw as a small, tiny, insignificant thing, and went about its business without much heed for the first beast in any way whatsoever.
The first beast was furious at this disrespect, and decided that the only thing he could do to prove it was the better predator was to eat even more, even faster, and grow larger than this second beast that dared to intrude in its forest. So the first beast began to gobble up absolutely everything he could find or catch in the forest. he ate birds and rabbits and insects and deer. He ate wolves, and bears, he ate fish and berries. And he grew and grew, but no matter how much he grew the second beast was always so much larger, and it would always laugh at him. So he kept eating and eating and eating until there really wasn't much left in the forest to eat, and his stomach ached so much he could barely stand the pain, and hardly move. That's when the first beast decided that, as it was his forest, he would eat that too. And after the third tree or so, the first beast simply exploded into a messy pile of guts and gore that splattered all over his territory. When the second beast saw this he laughed himself sick.
-- A children's story.
Written By Shard
Dec. 6, 2019, 7:41 p.m.(5/1/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Sydney
I've never been threatened with excommunication over anything I've written in my white journal, if it helps. Argued with. Yelled at. Told to leave the Compact and go back to the woods on more than one occasion. But not threatened with excommunication.
I never tried writing vaguely erotic Skald poetry though.
I never tried writing vaguely erotic Skald poetry though.
Written By Shard
Dec. 6, 2019, 4:45 a.m.(4/28/1012 AR)
This week has been shit. Last week was worse. That's about all I have to say about any of it.
No, wait. I'll say this. If people keep insisting on trying to fight me, sooner or later I'm going to take them up on it. Quit prodding at the limits of my patience, because it's not endless, especially not now. I'm not looking to put a boot up anyone's ass, but if someone else turns up itching to take a swing at me and trying their fucking hardest to piss me off so they can have an excuse, that's exactly where my boot is going to go.
You aren't the only people with problems in this damn city.
No, wait. I'll say this. If people keep insisting on trying to fight me, sooner or later I'm going to take them up on it. Quit prodding at the limits of my patience, because it's not endless, especially not now. I'm not looking to put a boot up anyone's ass, but if someone else turns up itching to take a swing at me and trying their fucking hardest to piss me off so they can have an excuse, that's exactly where my boot is going to go.
You aren't the only people with problems in this damn city.
Written By Shard
Dec. 4, 2019, 11:05 p.m.(4/25/1012 AR)
In some terrible way, I suppose it's at least a little refreshing to see the mask comes off.
Written By Shard
Nov. 24, 2019, 5:55 p.m.(4/5/1012 AR)
Spring is when armies march again. That never used to worry me much. Now it's all I can think about as I watch the snows slip away.
Written By Shard
Nov. 22, 2019, 2:05 a.m.(3/27/1012 AR)
Sometimes, when things are very quiet and dark, and I'm lying awake but not thinking about things that worry or frustrate or anger me, I think instead about how ridiculously naive I was that first day I came south. I had exactly one dream and a thousand fears, and not one of any of those prepared me in the slightest. Not a single one.
Written By Shard
Nov. 14, 2019, 9:34 p.m.(3/13/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Turo
Funny you should write that, considering what sparked the conversation. When someone from Thrax sells Abandoned prisoners to the Eurusi, it's slavery and punishable by (temporary in this case) condemnation by the Faith and being de-nobled. When someone from Thrax sells Abandoned prisoners to the Mourning Isles, it's called Thralldom, and we all dance around and pretend that's meaningfully different because we gave it a different word.
Written By Shard
Nov. 12, 2019, 9:50 p.m.(3/9/1012 AR)
My people had no shepherds, and we certainly never built fences, so I'm not as familiar with the intricacies of herding as some might be. The closest I've ever been was having to drive predators away from the camp and the horses, particularly in deep winter when all of us--people, horses, wolves--were hungry and looking for anything to eat.
But I don't like the analogy, all the same. People aren't sheep, and they shouldn't be sheep. You shouldn't herd them, you shouldn't fence them, you should teach them. You should guide them. You should show them the right paths to walk, and yeah, that means that sometimes they're going to choose not to be taught, not to be guided, and they're going to wander off no matter how carefully you try to watch out for them. Sometimes people are going to make bad decisions. Sometimes those bad decisions aren't forgivable, and shouldn't be. Sometimes those bad decisions are a fucking disaster.
The alternative is treating people like children, though. Like dumb animals that can't take care of themselves. And then they never do learn, they never do grow, they never understand why you've put up those fences and why you frighten them back to safe fields. Why's that matter? Because Zulana's right about something very important; we're all flawed. Every last one of us. We all make mistakes. We all, /all/ make bad decisions. And when you treat people like they're children, like they're sheep that can't learn and can't live, when you put up walls that they never really, truly understand the purpose of, well, they're only as safe as long as those walls exist, aren't they? One hole in the fence, and they're off. One hole in the fence and the pack's inside, and they won't have any idea what to do with that when it happens, because they've never seen a wolf before.
And the shepherd? Shepherds are people too. Shepherds can make bad decisions. Shepherds can get lost and lead their flocks in the wrong direction. Shepherds can trip up, they can lose track of sheep, they can be wrong. And if everyone, everyone is following one single shepherd, has only ever known to follow that shepherd their entire life, and that shepherd makes a mistake? That shepherd has no one, not one single person, who can pull them back from the edge of a cliff? Then it's the whole herd gone. Then it's everyone.
There's always a cost with freedom. You're always sacrificing some measure of safety for it. But there's a cost to being entirely 'safe' too, and it's not just freedom. It's wisdom. It's knowledge. It's growing and learning and, importantly, being prepared for when something goes wrong, because something always, eventually, will. And I don't think the point of living is to just follow some pathway someone else laid out for you and everyone else, from birth to death, entirely sheltered and entirely safe. Rejecting that /was/ the First Choice, after all.
But I don't like the analogy, all the same. People aren't sheep, and they shouldn't be sheep. You shouldn't herd them, you shouldn't fence them, you should teach them. You should guide them. You should show them the right paths to walk, and yeah, that means that sometimes they're going to choose not to be taught, not to be guided, and they're going to wander off no matter how carefully you try to watch out for them. Sometimes people are going to make bad decisions. Sometimes those bad decisions aren't forgivable, and shouldn't be. Sometimes those bad decisions are a fucking disaster.
The alternative is treating people like children, though. Like dumb animals that can't take care of themselves. And then they never do learn, they never do grow, they never understand why you've put up those fences and why you frighten them back to safe fields. Why's that matter? Because Zulana's right about something very important; we're all flawed. Every last one of us. We all make mistakes. We all, /all/ make bad decisions. And when you treat people like they're children, like they're sheep that can't learn and can't live, when you put up walls that they never really, truly understand the purpose of, well, they're only as safe as long as those walls exist, aren't they? One hole in the fence, and they're off. One hole in the fence and the pack's inside, and they won't have any idea what to do with that when it happens, because they've never seen a wolf before.
And the shepherd? Shepherds are people too. Shepherds can make bad decisions. Shepherds can get lost and lead their flocks in the wrong direction. Shepherds can trip up, they can lose track of sheep, they can be wrong. And if everyone, everyone is following one single shepherd, has only ever known to follow that shepherd their entire life, and that shepherd makes a mistake? That shepherd has no one, not one single person, who can pull them back from the edge of a cliff? Then it's the whole herd gone. Then it's everyone.
There's always a cost with freedom. You're always sacrificing some measure of safety for it. But there's a cost to being entirely 'safe' too, and it's not just freedom. It's wisdom. It's knowledge. It's growing and learning and, importantly, being prepared for when something goes wrong, because something always, eventually, will. And I don't think the point of living is to just follow some pathway someone else laid out for you and everyone else, from birth to death, entirely sheltered and entirely safe. Rejecting that /was/ the First Choice, after all.
Written By Shard
Nov. 11, 2019, 5:29 p.m.(3/7/1012 AR)
I get that intent doesn't matter, breaking sanctuary is breaking sanctuary. That's important to keep in mind for everyone.
But since I'm the one he jumped, I do want to put down that I'm pretty damned sure he didn't sneak into the shrine with the idea of spitting on the Faith, he just did it because I was in there and he's a fucking idiot who doesn't stop for one single second to consider the consequences, and apparently won't listen to anyone whatsoever when he's got it into his head to do something really, really stupid, even when it's obvious he's already in a lot of trouble and what he's trying to do isn't actually going to work out the way he wants.
It doesn't change what he did or how bad doing it was, but it wasn't a plot to undermine the Faith's authority or hospitality. It was just a really, really stupid man achieving unbelievable new heights of stupidity because he's determined to not use his brain for one single second. Doesn't make a difference. Doesn't change anything. But it's worth knowing, anyway.
Don't break sanctuary. There are very few things you can do in life that are more moronic than that, and that is saying something because the list of brainlessly stupid, self-destructive things that a person can get up to is more or less endless.
But since I'm the one he jumped, I do want to put down that I'm pretty damned sure he didn't sneak into the shrine with the idea of spitting on the Faith, he just did it because I was in there and he's a fucking idiot who doesn't stop for one single second to consider the consequences, and apparently won't listen to anyone whatsoever when he's got it into his head to do something really, really stupid, even when it's obvious he's already in a lot of trouble and what he's trying to do isn't actually going to work out the way he wants.
It doesn't change what he did or how bad doing it was, but it wasn't a plot to undermine the Faith's authority or hospitality. It was just a really, really stupid man achieving unbelievable new heights of stupidity because he's determined to not use his brain for one single second. Doesn't make a difference. Doesn't change anything. But it's worth knowing, anyway.
Don't break sanctuary. There are very few things you can do in life that are more moronic than that, and that is saying something because the list of brainlessly stupid, self-destructive things that a person can get up to is more or less endless.
Written By Shard
Nov. 9, 2019, 12:43 a.m.(3/1/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Vincenzo
I don't think slaves that complain openly and loudly live very long. Or, at least, I don't think they live very long without a severe beating. And those are the ones who can still think their own thoughts.
Unless you want to collapse the Mourning Isles, delays are necessary, even if they're fucking intolerable. Sure, you can cut off the hand now. And then you'll have no hand. Turns out that hand can be treated if you're willing to have some fucking patience and let the healers work.
I've already gone on long enough about how nothing you're doing here in the Compact is freeing any slaves outside of Arvum, so I won't do it again here.
Unless you want to collapse the Mourning Isles, delays are necessary, even if they're fucking intolerable. Sure, you can cut off the hand now. And then you'll have no hand. Turns out that hand can be treated if you're willing to have some fucking patience and let the healers work.
I've already gone on long enough about how nothing you're doing here in the Compact is freeing any slaves outside of Arvum, so I won't do it again here.
Written By Shard
Nov. 1, 2019, 5:13 a.m.(2/13/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Fortunato
If you've got a magical painting capable of freeing slaves in far off lands, I'm certainly interested in hearing about it.
We can talk regardless, obviously.
We can talk regardless, obviously.
Written By Shard
Nov. 1, 2019, 5:11 a.m.(2/13/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Vincenzo
I am absolutely not above cracking your bones if you accuse me of being in favor of slavery again. I am not, in fact, better than /that/.
The reason I'm giving you a warning first is I recognize you were running your damn mouth without the slightest fucking idea of who I am, what's important to me, or why saying what you did is enough to make me really, really want to grind your head into the cobblestone. I recognize you've got your head so far up your own ass that you're stargazing between your tonsils, and you're patting your own back so hard over symbolic gestures that your fingers are leaving bruises. I recognize that, so I'm letting it pass. I'm only going to do that once.
The reason I'm giving you a warning first is I recognize you were running your damn mouth without the slightest fucking idea of who I am, what's important to me, or why saying what you did is enough to make me really, really want to grind your head into the cobblestone. I recognize you've got your head so far up your own ass that you're stargazing between your tonsils, and you're patting your own back so hard over symbolic gestures that your fingers are leaving bruises. I recognize that, so I'm letting it pass. I'm only going to do that once.
Written By Shard
Oct. 31, 2019, 8:18 p.m.(2/13/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Vincenzo
I had a lot to write here, but I did just get done writing that empty words are just that. So forget the essay I could respond with, I'll instead make this short:
My actions speak for themselves, good and bad. My single, driving motivation my entire life will speak for itself. My family's efforts, for centuries, the things they have fought and died for, speak loud even when they've been forgotten.
Call me a slave supporter again, Vincenzo, and I'll break your face.
My actions speak for themselves, good and bad. My single, driving motivation my entire life will speak for itself. My family's efforts, for centuries, the things they have fought and died for, speak loud even when they've been forgotten.
Call me a slave supporter again, Vincenzo, and I'll break your face.
Written By Shard
Oct. 31, 2019, 6:53 p.m.(2/13/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Amari
Sailing to Cardia, or Eurus for that matter, with a vast army to free all the slaves is the only way you help those slaves. That's not comfortable, sure, but it's the truth. And yes, attempting to do that now would be ridiculous and doomed to failure, but that doesn't change that it is /the only way/ you help them. None of these other measures make their lives better. None of them. No amount of sarcasm or arguing about how people just want to criticize and look down on others changes that; those are, again, simply things that serve to make you feel better about something truly awful that you're helpless to change.
I didn't say these measures were bad, or wrong. Hell, they might be the most righteous thing to do, I don't know. That's not my decision to make. But they /will not help/ any slaves. They'll just help you feel better. Help you feel like you're taking a stand. Help you assure yourself that you're on the right side of a terrible line. That's all they'll do, and that's all they can ever do, at least as things are right now.
There's nothing wrong with any of that as long as you're being truthful to yourself about it.
Arvum rests on an ocean of blood, a thousand years of wars between the Compact and the Abandoned, the Abandoned and other Abandoned, and the Compact against itself. The entire Compact benefited from Thralldom, whether it condemned it or not, that's why just about every House is feeling losses now. The food you eat is grown and raised in fields that are often fields that someone else lost their lives over trying to keep. No one's hands are clean in this way. Don't pretend. Commit yourself to doing things that will actually help other people, or don't, it's your choice. But a lot of words and empty gestures are, in the end, exactly that. Especially where Thrax is concerned, if you're only getting around to punishing them for what they've been doing now that they've started the process of getting rid of it.
I didn't say these measures were bad, or wrong. Hell, they might be the most righteous thing to do, I don't know. That's not my decision to make. But they /will not help/ any slaves. They'll just help you feel better. Help you feel like you're taking a stand. Help you assure yourself that you're on the right side of a terrible line. That's all they'll do, and that's all they can ever do, at least as things are right now.
There's nothing wrong with any of that as long as you're being truthful to yourself about it.
Arvum rests on an ocean of blood, a thousand years of wars between the Compact and the Abandoned, the Abandoned and other Abandoned, and the Compact against itself. The entire Compact benefited from Thralldom, whether it condemned it or not, that's why just about every House is feeling losses now. The food you eat is grown and raised in fields that are often fields that someone else lost their lives over trying to keep. No one's hands are clean in this way. Don't pretend. Commit yourself to doing things that will actually help other people, or don't, it's your choice. But a lot of words and empty gestures are, in the end, exactly that. Especially where Thrax is concerned, if you're only getting around to punishing them for what they've been doing now that they've started the process of getting rid of it.
Written By Shard
Oct. 31, 2019, 1:56 a.m.(2/11/1012 AR)
I'm not even sure it's the wrong move, really, but all of these announcements about refusing to work steelsilk or pyreweave feel like...a painting on a wall. It's a nice painting, you put some work into it, and when you look at it you feel good, and some people might even look at it and feel inspired, but it's still, itself, just a painting. It's not doing anything. It's not saving anyone. It's not hurting the people you want it to hurt. It's just there. Something nice to look at. Something to reassure /you/.
Destroying materials that have already been bought doesn't do any damned thing to help any actual people. Refusing to make clothes out of material that's already here in Arvum doesn't free any slaves. It doesn't give them rest, or undo their forced labor, or put food in their mouths. And not wearing that armor if you can afford to have it doesn't help anyone whatsoever, here or across the sea, if you end up dying to a blow it could've saved you from.
I also doubt the Compact buys enough of the stuff for any of them to care if we all stopped on principle. They sure as shit won't be freeing any slaves or stopping the production of steelsilk just because we turned up our noses.
It's a painting. All you're doing is making yourself feel better. If that's enough for you, then it's enough, but don't pretend you're actually helping the people you claim to be upset about.
Destroying materials that have already been bought doesn't do any damned thing to help any actual people. Refusing to make clothes out of material that's already here in Arvum doesn't free any slaves. It doesn't give them rest, or undo their forced labor, or put food in their mouths. And not wearing that armor if you can afford to have it doesn't help anyone whatsoever, here or across the sea, if you end up dying to a blow it could've saved you from.
I also doubt the Compact buys enough of the stuff for any of them to care if we all stopped on principle. They sure as shit won't be freeing any slaves or stopping the production of steelsilk just because we turned up our noses.
It's a painting. All you're doing is making yourself feel better. If that's enough for you, then it's enough, but don't pretend you're actually helping the people you claim to be upset about.
Written By Shard
Oct. 30, 2019, 9:07 p.m.(2/11/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Sparte
I think I've made this comparison before, but what the hell.
When you're target shooting, on your own, you can take as long as you want to line up your shot, judge the wind, judge the distance, steady your hand. But once that arrow's left the string, you're not in control of it anymore. You've made your decision, you've set your course. You can't undo your shot. You can only wait until it lands, and see whether you hit what you were aiming at, and how well, or whether you missed, and how badly. Studying the results of what you've done, and whether you succeeded or fucked up, and especially /how/ you succeeded or fucked up, is how you learn to do things better. Being willing to change how you aim and fire is how you improve. If you've put in the work, and if you're at least a little bit lucky, you might manage to make the shot when it really counts, and not when you're just practicing. Maybe. There's no guarantee.
But if you never take that shot in the first place, if you stand there all your life just worrying whether or not you'll succeed or fail, and never actually loose the arrow, then you're never going to learn anything, and you're never going to get better, and you're never going to find out how to deal with what happens when you, inevitably, fail. And in that case it doesn't matter if you could've made the shot when it counted, because you were too afraid to even start the journey in the first place.
When you're target shooting, on your own, you can take as long as you want to line up your shot, judge the wind, judge the distance, steady your hand. But once that arrow's left the string, you're not in control of it anymore. You've made your decision, you've set your course. You can't undo your shot. You can only wait until it lands, and see whether you hit what you were aiming at, and how well, or whether you missed, and how badly. Studying the results of what you've done, and whether you succeeded or fucked up, and especially /how/ you succeeded or fucked up, is how you learn to do things better. Being willing to change how you aim and fire is how you improve. If you've put in the work, and if you're at least a little bit lucky, you might manage to make the shot when it really counts, and not when you're just practicing. Maybe. There's no guarantee.
But if you never take that shot in the first place, if you stand there all your life just worrying whether or not you'll succeed or fail, and never actually loose the arrow, then you're never going to learn anything, and you're never going to get better, and you're never going to find out how to deal with what happens when you, inevitably, fail. And in that case it doesn't matter if you could've made the shot when it counted, because you were too afraid to even start the journey in the first place.
Written By Shard
Oct. 24, 2019, 5:36 a.m.(1/26/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Aureth
You tell their story, good and bad and everything in-between. You can't sum up an entire life in that short time, but you can make a try at it. You can tell as much truth as circumstances allow. Stories about how they were heroes or monsters are things that come after they're ash, when people start trying to piece together the things they miss, or the things they're glad are gone, or the things they want to pass on to other people as examples. A dead person should have a shot at their life being told honestly, at least once.
But then, I'm not a priest. The only eulogy I've given was to a bunch of rowdy, drunken sellswords after an unwise amount of whiskey. I'm not sure how true it ended up being.
But then, I'm not a priest. The only eulogy I've given was to a bunch of rowdy, drunken sellswords after an unwise amount of whiskey. I'm not sure how true it ended up being.
Written By Shard
Oct. 22, 2019, 6:31 a.m.(1/22/1012 AR)
One time, when I was around fourteen, the master hunter of our tribe took me with him to track wolves. We spent two days following the trail of a moderately sized pack, sleeping in snow hollows and always staying downwind of where their tracks were leading us. When we finally caught up with them, they, in turn, had caught up with an enormous white bear (or perhaps the bear had found them instead). For anyone who has never actually seen one of these bears, you must understand that they are larger, and meaner, than any other bear on Arvum. They will eat anything if they are hungry enough; wolves, humans, caribou, seals, it doesn't matter.
We expected the wolves to run, but the wolves were hungry too. So instead they circled the bear, and at the master hunter's direction, we both climbed a tree downwind of them all to watch.
Every time the bear would turn to face a wolf, that wolf would turn and run, and every time the bear attempted to chase it, a wolf behind it would rush up and tear at its back and rear. When the bear turned to face that second wolf, it would run, and the wolf it had just been chasing would turn and attack. Sometimes a wolf would grow tired, and drop just a few feet out of the fight to watch and rest, while the rest of the pack continued to harry the bear.
This went on for an hour. Maybe two. Eventually the bear simply tried to run away, but by that time it had grown so damned tired and so damned bloody that the entire pack could attack it at once without much risk, and drag it down to the snow for good.
We climbed out of the tree then, and followed our own tracks away from the kill. After we'd spent some time confusing our trail, the master hunter told me that we were going home, because we'd seen what he'd brought me out on that trip to see. "When you hunt," he said, "when you fight, be the wolf, and not the bear. The bear is large, and powerful, and knows no one can challenge him, so he'll always be surprised when someone does, and always be certain he can win until he doesn't. The wolf knows his own weaknesses, and those of his father and mother, brothers and sisters. He knows when to stand, and when to run, and isn't afraid to do either, but most importantly, he knows just when to turn around and bite his enemy in the ass."
We expected the wolves to run, but the wolves were hungry too. So instead they circled the bear, and at the master hunter's direction, we both climbed a tree downwind of them all to watch.
Every time the bear would turn to face a wolf, that wolf would turn and run, and every time the bear attempted to chase it, a wolf behind it would rush up and tear at its back and rear. When the bear turned to face that second wolf, it would run, and the wolf it had just been chasing would turn and attack. Sometimes a wolf would grow tired, and drop just a few feet out of the fight to watch and rest, while the rest of the pack continued to harry the bear.
This went on for an hour. Maybe two. Eventually the bear simply tried to run away, but by that time it had grown so damned tired and so damned bloody that the entire pack could attack it at once without much risk, and drag it down to the snow for good.
We climbed out of the tree then, and followed our own tracks away from the kill. After we'd spent some time confusing our trail, the master hunter told me that we were going home, because we'd seen what he'd brought me out on that trip to see. "When you hunt," he said, "when you fight, be the wolf, and not the bear. The bear is large, and powerful, and knows no one can challenge him, so he'll always be surprised when someone does, and always be certain he can win until he doesn't. The wolf knows his own weaknesses, and those of his father and mother, brothers and sisters. He knows when to stand, and when to run, and isn't afraid to do either, but most importantly, he knows just when to turn around and bite his enemy in the ass."
Written By Shard
Oct. 20, 2019, 6:10 a.m.(1/18/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Elisha
There isn't a sullen thug or spoiled child in Arx that can't lie their asses off on a whim either, and yet you keep showing it off. If as many people have hit you for as long as you've said, it's amazing that you're still acting like a martyr over a single sock to the jaw.
I told you to keep my stories out of your fucking mouth. I told you my scars aren't yours to play with. You decided to do it and do it to my face, and now, because you're so terribly proud of it, to put it down on paper so the people who keep following you around and somehow believe the bullshit that comes out of your smarmy hole will think you have some deep insight they just can't understand. You decided you could lay a claim on what's personal, and what's mine.
No.
I don't bow to statues, or prophecies. Your single trick is old, and I've seen it from half a dozen others before.
I told you to keep my stories out of your fucking mouth. I told you my scars aren't yours to play with. You decided to do it and do it to my face, and now, because you're so terribly proud of it, to put it down on paper so the people who keep following you around and somehow believe the bullshit that comes out of your smarmy hole will think you have some deep insight they just can't understand. You decided you could lay a claim on what's personal, and what's mine.
No.
I don't bow to statues, or prophecies. Your single trick is old, and I've seen it from half a dozen others before.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.