Written By Bliss
April 6, 2019, 2:09 a.m.(11/15/1010 AR)
Potential - that's what I see so much of in this city. Unrefined like a gem that has yet to be cut or polished, wealthy in ways both obvious and hidden, both perceptive in ways that only a half million pairs of eyes can be and yet...
There are many times I find myself wondering how things came to be this way. The answers are there, of course, but it still feels like there is some part missing. Some key element.
Maybe it's part of the nature of humanity. A particular thing which I am blind to. I suppose everyone has their flaws.
There are many times I find myself wondering how things came to be this way. The answers are there, of course, but it still feels like there is some part missing. Some key element.
Maybe it's part of the nature of humanity. A particular thing which I am blind to. I suppose everyone has their flaws.
Written By Bliss
March 31, 2019, 9:03 p.m.(11/4/1010 AR)
There have been very few things that have reminded me of the Folly I fought with the Nox'alfar. The thrill of it, the chaos, the laughter and strategy and clever nature that the whole thing required. Being pushed to the absolute edge of your limits. Your whole body on fire as the adrenaline rushes through you, and the world starts to come alive.
The Grand Melee today was one of those moments, and in particular, I want to thank Lady Brianna Halfshav. She gave me a much harder fight than I expected from her, and I found myself on the back foot and barely holding on for most of the competition. When I went down, there was no bitterness - that is what a fight is supposed to be.
It's a good day to be alive.
The Grand Melee today was one of those moments, and in particular, I want to thank Lady Brianna Halfshav. She gave me a much harder fight than I expected from her, and I found myself on the back foot and barely holding on for most of the competition. When I went down, there was no bitterness - that is what a fight is supposed to be.
It's a good day to be alive.
Written By Bliss
March 30, 2019, 7:05 p.m.(11/2/1010 AR)
Eight silver knights and sixty-two copper bits.
It's a number that has always stuck out for me, and it's what I have laying across my desk as I write this. It seemed like enough back then, but it looks so small now. Money leftover after a night drinking, not much for Tor prices - enough to get me two or three meals at a decent tavern - but out in the country, it lasted me a while longer. It wasn't until we were gone for two weeks or so that we started realizing we were out of money, and that we needed to fight. We changed one of the knights for bits at the merchants before hitting the tavern, to make the bag louder. Stefano went and fought - he held the bag and shook it, claiming it was all silver, to make the bet. He won that fight, of course. Back then, he was better than I was, and I was still pretty good.
A hundred and seven silver. The largest fortune I had ever owned. We splurged on it for a month afterwards, drinking everything we could and eating until we were sick.
Living in Arx, it can be hard to remember just how expensive it is to be here, particularly for those of us who have found ourselves in a point where it's not much of an issue anymore. But I remember what it's like to be out, to be making bets of a few silver here and there on a fight, to be happy when I managed to get ten in a night of singing when I was near the cities. Here, you can spend thousands of silver on a cake and no one will bat an eye. You can spend hundreds of thousands on a dress and it might not seem to make a difference. And that spending is good - that money goes out to the merchants who keep our economy running, and I have no idea how they do what they do with it but our life is definitely the better for it. I never did ask Rook how he pulled the tricks he did when he lived in Whisper House - I probably should have.
There are plenty of places in the world where, when the markets clear at the end of harvest season, a farmer will have made three hundred, four hundred silver out of everything they've done over the course of that year. Maintaining their home, replacing their equipment and mending their clothing accounts for a good portion of that money. Feeding their family is usually the rest. Maybe, if they're lucky, they manage to put some away to help their children get a start in life if they aren't just going to be continuing the farm.
It's a little better if you learn a trade - if you manage to get lucky and get someone to teach you how to fight, are able to put on a good show, you can do well for yourself.
It wasn't until Arx that I started to have to start counting my money in gold, and then even the rare platinum piece now and then.
And yet, even in this city of fabulous wealth, people starve. It's all too common in the Lowers, though the efforts of the soup kitchens have put a big dent in the number of people who actually die. What would last you ages out in the country is gone in days here, and the sense of scope begins to fade. We forget how different our life is. We forget how it might look to those on the outside.
It's always good to keep this in mind when writing our White journals. For each of us who have done well, there are thousands who struggle.
It's a number that has always stuck out for me, and it's what I have laying across my desk as I write this. It seemed like enough back then, but it looks so small now. Money leftover after a night drinking, not much for Tor prices - enough to get me two or three meals at a decent tavern - but out in the country, it lasted me a while longer. It wasn't until we were gone for two weeks or so that we started realizing we were out of money, and that we needed to fight. We changed one of the knights for bits at the merchants before hitting the tavern, to make the bag louder. Stefano went and fought - he held the bag and shook it, claiming it was all silver, to make the bet. He won that fight, of course. Back then, he was better than I was, and I was still pretty good.
A hundred and seven silver. The largest fortune I had ever owned. We splurged on it for a month afterwards, drinking everything we could and eating until we were sick.
Living in Arx, it can be hard to remember just how expensive it is to be here, particularly for those of us who have found ourselves in a point where it's not much of an issue anymore. But I remember what it's like to be out, to be making bets of a few silver here and there on a fight, to be happy when I managed to get ten in a night of singing when I was near the cities. Here, you can spend thousands of silver on a cake and no one will bat an eye. You can spend hundreds of thousands on a dress and it might not seem to make a difference. And that spending is good - that money goes out to the merchants who keep our economy running, and I have no idea how they do what they do with it but our life is definitely the better for it. I never did ask Rook how he pulled the tricks he did when he lived in Whisper House - I probably should have.
There are plenty of places in the world where, when the markets clear at the end of harvest season, a farmer will have made three hundred, four hundred silver out of everything they've done over the course of that year. Maintaining their home, replacing their equipment and mending their clothing accounts for a good portion of that money. Feeding their family is usually the rest. Maybe, if they're lucky, they manage to put some away to help their children get a start in life if they aren't just going to be continuing the farm.
It's a little better if you learn a trade - if you manage to get lucky and get someone to teach you how to fight, are able to put on a good show, you can do well for yourself.
It wasn't until Arx that I started to have to start counting my money in gold, and then even the rare platinum piece now and then.
And yet, even in this city of fabulous wealth, people starve. It's all too common in the Lowers, though the efforts of the soup kitchens have put a big dent in the number of people who actually die. What would last you ages out in the country is gone in days here, and the sense of scope begins to fade. We forget how different our life is. We forget how it might look to those on the outside.
It's always good to keep this in mind when writing our White journals. For each of us who have done well, there are thousands who struggle.
Written By Bliss
March 24, 2019, 8:44 p.m.(10/18/1010 AR)
Plans are laid out now - a first step to be taking forward, and it is good to see that there is not only commonality of purpose, but diversity in skill. I am looking forward to seeing what we can do, and to begin to push forward rather than simply sitting idle. I don't think there is anything I can tolerate less than feeling like I am held in place, by whatever force it may be.
Written By Bliss
March 22, 2019, 3:15 a.m.(10/13/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Calista
Do remind them all that I have stories.
Written By Bliss
March 20, 2019, 7:55 p.m.(10/10/1010 AR)
What a charming date. I only wish I had been paying attention to it about eight hours ago!
Written By Bliss
March 17, 2019, 10:21 p.m.(10/4/1010 AR)
Caithness Anthy was no stranger to controversy. Although only a low ranking noble, she had access to Queen Alarice that was the envy of many, and a bond to her majesty which few could deny. Such things are the seeds of jealousy and envy, and there is no doubt that she had her enemies in the Crown Ministry and in the Compact as a whole. She asked impossible things of the world, and in return, did impossible things herself.
She dragged a fractured Compact back together. Not losing our uniqueness, not operating as a single whole, but functioning together in a way that was to each of our benefits. For this, the Queen immortalized her vision in Whisper House, naming her Radiant - born from the seeds of chaos, we have always struggled to embody the best in life. What we all could be.
There is a very special kind of person who becomes a Whisper. To chase nearly superhuman excellence requires a dedication and a sense of purpose that many cannot reach. We must remain neutral in action, though we are human and have our ties.
The people I have worked with and lived with are among the best in the Compact. I am incredibly honored. I will try to live up to the trust they have placed in me, and make us brighter, illuminate the Compact in another chaotic time.
To make us all radiant.
She dragged a fractured Compact back together. Not losing our uniqueness, not operating as a single whole, but functioning together in a way that was to each of our benefits. For this, the Queen immortalized her vision in Whisper House, naming her Radiant - born from the seeds of chaos, we have always struggled to embody the best in life. What we all could be.
There is a very special kind of person who becomes a Whisper. To chase nearly superhuman excellence requires a dedication and a sense of purpose that many cannot reach. We must remain neutral in action, though we are human and have our ties.
The people I have worked with and lived with are among the best in the Compact. I am incredibly honored. I will try to live up to the trust they have placed in me, and make us brighter, illuminate the Compact in another chaotic time.
To make us all radiant.
Written By Bliss
March 10, 2019, 9:41 a.m.(9/17/1010 AR)
I'm back in Arx. I think I beat the last few of my journals back here, which is a bit confusing to say the least, but I imagine they will be in here soon. I don't really mind.
An enlightening time, and a chance to stretch my legs that was desperately needed. And now, back to work.
I didn't miss anything, did I?
An enlightening time, and a chance to stretch my legs that was desperately needed. And now, back to work.
I didn't miss anything, did I?
Written By Bliss
March 7, 2019, 12:33 p.m.(9/12/1010 AR)
I'm on my way back to Arx now. I might write about what happened, but probably not. For now, it's time to get home, and leave all of this behind me. The past can stay where it needs to be.
Written By Bliss
March 3, 2019, 5:17 p.m.(9/4/1010 AR)
<A more recently post-dated journal>
Iriscal.
I remember when he first brought me in here. Oh, the promises he made, promises to capture a girl's heart. We had been together maybe a week at that point, and all I could see was how handsome he was, how that smile pulled on my heart, and how skilled he was with his sword.
I knew this was a trading hub now, and I knew about the silkworks here, and yet, I wasn't really prepared to see bolts of aeterna and umbra for sale in the stalls in the market square. I think he saw how I boggled, and he laughed and told me that by the time we were done, I would have so many dresses of white and black I would be almost sick of them, that he would take me to the fanciest balls and that I would never want for anything again.
That was almost exactly ten years ago. It still feels like yesterday.
I opened a chest on the way in, making sure no one saw. I ran my fingers along the umbra. Formal gowns for the formal meetings I've been having when I need to. The aeterna, for looking brilliant in the rays of the sun. The other one, in case there's another ball, so I don't have to pretend to be someone else this time.
You were just off by a few years, Stefano. You always did have a problem with overestimating your longevity.
The second time I was here, I was done with you. You knew as well as I did that you had nothing more to offer me, and you made me no more promises. We rarely slept in the same bed anymore. I would find someone, and so would you, and off we went. No more promises of silks that you would never give me, your smile just turned my stomach, and your fancy swordplay just bored me to tears. I have no idea how you managed to kill that man in Granato. He must have wanted to die.
Excitement had become boredom. We only made it a few days across the Split before I was done with you. Saying goodbye to you was just as easy as saying goodbye to Tor. I know your heart still broke, but mine didn't, Stefano. It was never yours to tie your anchor to.
* * * * *
I thought I was done writing about Iriscal, but I'm not. I went to the walls of the fortress today, and climbed to the top. It's a clear day, and the winds are calm, and in the distance I can barely - just barely - make out the walls of Tor. I think maybe I can even smell the roses, but that's probably a conjuration of my mind.
It's not time yet. Not quite. But I can feel it inside me, and sometimes, I just know what needs to be done. This is one of those moments.
Iriscal.
I remember when he first brought me in here. Oh, the promises he made, promises to capture a girl's heart. We had been together maybe a week at that point, and all I could see was how handsome he was, how that smile pulled on my heart, and how skilled he was with his sword.
I knew this was a trading hub now, and I knew about the silkworks here, and yet, I wasn't really prepared to see bolts of aeterna and umbra for sale in the stalls in the market square. I think he saw how I boggled, and he laughed and told me that by the time we were done, I would have so many dresses of white and black I would be almost sick of them, that he would take me to the fanciest balls and that I would never want for anything again.
That was almost exactly ten years ago. It still feels like yesterday.
I opened a chest on the way in, making sure no one saw. I ran my fingers along the umbra. Formal gowns for the formal meetings I've been having when I need to. The aeterna, for looking brilliant in the rays of the sun. The other one, in case there's another ball, so I don't have to pretend to be someone else this time.
You were just off by a few years, Stefano. You always did have a problem with overestimating your longevity.
The second time I was here, I was done with you. You knew as well as I did that you had nothing more to offer me, and you made me no more promises. We rarely slept in the same bed anymore. I would find someone, and so would you, and off we went. No more promises of silks that you would never give me, your smile just turned my stomach, and your fancy swordplay just bored me to tears. I have no idea how you managed to kill that man in Granato. He must have wanted to die.
Excitement had become boredom. We only made it a few days across the Split before I was done with you. Saying goodbye to you was just as easy as saying goodbye to Tor. I know your heart still broke, but mine didn't, Stefano. It was never yours to tie your anchor to.
* * * * *
I thought I was done writing about Iriscal, but I'm not. I went to the walls of the fortress today, and climbed to the top. It's a clear day, and the winds are calm, and in the distance I can barely - just barely - make out the walls of Tor. I think maybe I can even smell the roses, but that's probably a conjuration of my mind.
It's not time yet. Not quite. But I can feel it inside me, and sometimes, I just know what needs to be done. This is one of those moments.
Written By Bliss
March 3, 2019, 4:38 p.m.(9/4/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Audric
<A posr-dated journal entry>
I didn't spend long at Fen de Lire. A shot of whiskey, a mug of beer. I threw them both on the road and crushed them under my heel, laughed at your foolhardiness, then moved on.
I think that's what you would have wanted. Our Lady of Terrible Puns is lucky to be the one getting to hear your stories now.
I didn't spend long at Fen de Lire. A shot of whiskey, a mug of beer. I threw them both on the road and crushed them under my heel, laughed at your foolhardiness, then moved on.
I think that's what you would have wanted. Our Lady of Terrible Puns is lucky to be the one getting to hear your stories now.
Written By Bliss
March 3, 2019, 4:30 p.m.(9/4/1010 AR)
<A journal postdated from a few days back>
Today I met an old man who had lived in the same village his entire life. It was just on the outskirts of the Fen de Lire, and there were really only two streets, at an angle to each other, and about ten houses total. This man - his name is Ernesto - had been born there - he pointed out the window of the tavern to his house. He had married a woman who came by on a caravan. True love, he claimed, and since she lived with him until she died, maybe he was right.
He pointed to where they had lived, where they had raised their four children, all with families of their own now. One died in the war at Southport - a mercenary who met a mercenary's end. The Silent War got another, his whole family wiped out during one of the skirmishes there - they had moved to the Gray Forest for safety. The third he hadn't heard from in a long time. He assumed they were still alive, but wondered why they hadn't written.
The fourth was a wandering duelist like me.
Here was a man who had, by all accounts, lost everything. For whom so much had changed, even though he remained a fisher in a little hut by a river. Even though he would likely die that way. I asked him if he had ever traveled, and he assured me he had - but when I pressed him, he admitted that it was not more than two towns over to the market to buy some presents.
I don't know a lot about Ernesto, but I do know that he chose a life that was in almost every way, entirely the opposite of mine. A life I could not even begin to imagine. A life that would have me screaming.
But he smiled, happy for the attention of a beautiful woman. He shared the dirty jokes he had picked up over the years. And damned if he couldn't see things I couldn't at a glance.
I don't understand him. But I'm glad that I met him.
Today I met an old man who had lived in the same village his entire life. It was just on the outskirts of the Fen de Lire, and there were really only two streets, at an angle to each other, and about ten houses total. This man - his name is Ernesto - had been born there - he pointed out the window of the tavern to his house. He had married a woman who came by on a caravan. True love, he claimed, and since she lived with him until she died, maybe he was right.
He pointed to where they had lived, where they had raised their four children, all with families of their own now. One died in the war at Southport - a mercenary who met a mercenary's end. The Silent War got another, his whole family wiped out during one of the skirmishes there - they had moved to the Gray Forest for safety. The third he hadn't heard from in a long time. He assumed they were still alive, but wondered why they hadn't written.
The fourth was a wandering duelist like me.
Here was a man who had, by all accounts, lost everything. For whom so much had changed, even though he remained a fisher in a little hut by a river. Even though he would likely die that way. I asked him if he had ever traveled, and he assured me he had - but when I pressed him, he admitted that it was not more than two towns over to the market to buy some presents.
I don't know a lot about Ernesto, but I do know that he chose a life that was in almost every way, entirely the opposite of mine. A life I could not even begin to imagine. A life that would have me screaming.
But he smiled, happy for the attention of a beautiful woman. He shared the dirty jokes he had picked up over the years. And damned if he couldn't see things I couldn't at a glance.
I don't understand him. But I'm glad that I met him.
Written By Bliss
March 1, 2019, 10:21 a.m.(8/28/1010 AR)
People are scared.
It's not even a doubt in my mind when I'm out here, where raids by the Abandoned are not just a threat but a fact of life, when you're in the smaller towns where even losing one person means they might not have enough food for the winter. I grew up in a city, surrounded by blades and guards. They were more a nuisance to me than anything else back in those days, but being out here is reminding me of those times. The whispered rumors of what the shavs did to groups of soldiers they captured during the war with Southport. The disgusted look on my father's face when it came up.
They've heard the stories of what happened during the Silent War, at the Lodge, while we fought the Gyre. They laugh off the strange rumors of course, but in their eyes is that look for me to laugh with them and reassure them that none of it is true. The hope that they're safer than they worry they might be.
I've been drinking a lot on this trip.
I've thought about wearing a cloak to cover my armor, to hide Vowkeeper, but I think when they realize who I am - when they see me out here - it helps. Just a little. They all want to know why, of course, and 'unfinished business' doesn't sate anyone's curiosity.
So I sing for them. I dance for them. I duel for them and tell them stories of tales in the past. I try to remind them that things aren't as bad as they might seem, that we still need to fight for the world we want, but there's so little I can say. Still, I think their spirits are brighter when I leave.
By the time this reaches Arx, I should be well into the Lyceum. I think I have to make a stop somewhere I've never been.
It's not even a doubt in my mind when I'm out here, where raids by the Abandoned are not just a threat but a fact of life, when you're in the smaller towns where even losing one person means they might not have enough food for the winter. I grew up in a city, surrounded by blades and guards. They were more a nuisance to me than anything else back in those days, but being out here is reminding me of those times. The whispered rumors of what the shavs did to groups of soldiers they captured during the war with Southport. The disgusted look on my father's face when it came up.
They've heard the stories of what happened during the Silent War, at the Lodge, while we fought the Gyre. They laugh off the strange rumors of course, but in their eyes is that look for me to laugh with them and reassure them that none of it is true. The hope that they're safer than they worry they might be.
I've been drinking a lot on this trip.
I've thought about wearing a cloak to cover my armor, to hide Vowkeeper, but I think when they realize who I am - when they see me out here - it helps. Just a little. They all want to know why, of course, and 'unfinished business' doesn't sate anyone's curiosity.
So I sing for them. I dance for them. I duel for them and tell them stories of tales in the past. I try to remind them that things aren't as bad as they might seem, that we still need to fight for the world we want, but there's so little I can say. Still, I think their spirits are brighter when I leave.
By the time this reaches Arx, I should be well into the Lyceum. I think I have to make a stop somewhere I've never been.
Written By Bliss
Feb. 28, 2019, 8:24 p.m.(8/26/1010 AR)
<A page has been inserted into this journal, looking a little weathered>
Scholars, please hold my journals until I'm back in the city for a few days before publishing them - I would rather not have potential raiders know where I am on the road.
Brighthold always seems to catch me off guard. Whether it is something in the simple look and feel of the town itself or the kinds of people you find there, I'm not certain, but it has so often been a surprise to me. This time it was because of the Great Road, though - it's really the first time I've seen it. It's something of a marvel, when you step to the edge of town and look, seeing this thread go off into the horizon, winding through hills and trees. I don't know how I missed the early stages of construction now - I think I just hadn't put all the pieces together? - but still.
It might be my imagination, but the markets seem a little busier, a little livelier than the last time I visited. Not just the fish and oysters, but there are more things from other parts of the Compact, and the more successful merchants seem to be dressed a bit better. The market is loud and busy, and it smells like the sea, but there is still a tension in the air. The King's proclamation seems to have beaten me here, and I hear it being talked about in snippets as I walk.
We aren't here long enough for me to write much. There is an awful long way to go and the Knights are letting me know we're ready.
I suppose that's it for now, though. An inconvenient time to leave Arx, certainly, but the sooner I do this, the sooner it's done. And I have been putting this off for a very long time now.
Scholars, please hold my journals until I'm back in the city for a few days before publishing them - I would rather not have potential raiders know where I am on the road.
Brighthold always seems to catch me off guard. Whether it is something in the simple look and feel of the town itself or the kinds of people you find there, I'm not certain, but it has so often been a surprise to me. This time it was because of the Great Road, though - it's really the first time I've seen it. It's something of a marvel, when you step to the edge of town and look, seeing this thread go off into the horizon, winding through hills and trees. I don't know how I missed the early stages of construction now - I think I just hadn't put all the pieces together? - but still.
It might be my imagination, but the markets seem a little busier, a little livelier than the last time I visited. Not just the fish and oysters, but there are more things from other parts of the Compact, and the more successful merchants seem to be dressed a bit better. The market is loud and busy, and it smells like the sea, but there is still a tension in the air. The King's proclamation seems to have beaten me here, and I hear it being talked about in snippets as I walk.
We aren't here long enough for me to write much. There is an awful long way to go and the Knights are letting me know we're ready.
I suppose that's it for now, though. An inconvenient time to leave Arx, certainly, but the sooner I do this, the sooner it's done. And I have been putting this off for a very long time now.
Written By Bliss
Feb. 24, 2019, 2:39 p.m.(8/18/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Avary
As Aleksei said, it's very important, I think, to understand my statement wasn't a defense of slavery in any way shape or form. Civilizations have arisen on the backs of slaves - very successful ones, and of this, there's really no doubt. At the same time, we must ask ourselves: Is this who we want to be, or do we want to be something better than that? Can we be?
We're something new and different in the world, still. Is that worth preserving?
We're something new and different in the world, still. Is that worth preserving?
Written By Bliss
Feb. 18, 2019, 2:33 p.m.(8/6/1010 AR)
I'm restless lately - feeling trapped in Arx. I know there are big trips coming up, but none of them in particular felt like my place. I know I will find my way out again and into the world soon enough, of course, but my feet begin to itch so quickly whenever I get back. Nonetheless, I am happy when I get the chance to pour that excellence into my work. The compliments are lovely, and I deeply appreciate all of them - I was so happy to be able to deliver to Prince Lorenzo and Princess Gwenna the vision they had as a reality.
I am proud of our two newest apprentice Whispers, as well, which I am utterly thrilled about - both already having proven their own merit. Even in these times of turmoil, beauty and grace are things which we will continue to honor and support, and those who bring them to the world have a place within Whisper House.
I am proud of our two newest apprentice Whispers, as well, which I am utterly thrilled about - both already having proven their own merit. Even in these times of turmoil, beauty and grace are things which we will continue to honor and support, and those who bring them to the world have a place within Whisper House.
Written By Bliss
Feb. 16, 2019, 5:08 a.m.(8/1/1010 AR)
A question I have seen posed a few times is this one:
"Where are our Nox'alfar and Marin'alfar allies during all of this?"
Now, I cannot speak for the latter group and will make no attempt to do so. I have had no interactions or dealings with them, and I know little of them or their culture. But I do suspect that much of what I'm about to write will apply to them as well.
The Nox'alfar are, simply put, one of the - if not the absolute - longest standing, most consistent allies of the Compact of Arvum. Consistently, again and again, when we faced an existential crisis, the Nox were there.
They stood beside us at the Reckoning, dying and bleeding with our own troops.
They stood beside us in the Elven Wars, providing warriors, weapons, tactics and tools to use against the forces that we're ravaging us at the time - in many cases, their very own, very important personal weapons, many of which are the very same heirloom blades that have come to represent your families and their honor.
They've aligned their strength with ours to deter foreign Invaders on more than one occasion. They have laid their lives down for ours on more than one occasion. They have promised to do so again.
In exchange for everything they have done, they do not ask much from us. A marriage every generation to renew and reinforce the ties. Having specific Abandoned tribes that are under their protection that we will not attack. Asking humans to not enter their lands without permission, and if we do violate that, being subject to their laws (and do keep in mind - I am one of the few who knows firsthand, more than most, just what that means). Requiring mutual defense against those foes which threaten both of our peoples.
They do not ask us to give up our right to self-rule. They do not ask us to give up our gods. They do not ask to put us under any laws that are not our own and are not those specified within our treaty.
They allow us to be free. Asking why the Nox'alfar aren't doing more is foolish - they have been incredibly generous to us and continue to be so, despite us forgetting the treaties, despite us violating them even recently.
The Compact would not exist were it not for our allies. And that is what the Nox are. They do not seek to usurp us. They do not seek to rule us. They are, in fact, allowing this choice to happen - because they believe we should be free to choose our own destiny. Yet they still support us as allies should.
I'm not quite certain what more people want from them.
"Where are our Nox'alfar and Marin'alfar allies during all of this?"
Now, I cannot speak for the latter group and will make no attempt to do so. I have had no interactions or dealings with them, and I know little of them or their culture. But I do suspect that much of what I'm about to write will apply to them as well.
The Nox'alfar are, simply put, one of the - if not the absolute - longest standing, most consistent allies of the Compact of Arvum. Consistently, again and again, when we faced an existential crisis, the Nox were there.
They stood beside us at the Reckoning, dying and bleeding with our own troops.
They stood beside us in the Elven Wars, providing warriors, weapons, tactics and tools to use against the forces that we're ravaging us at the time - in many cases, their very own, very important personal weapons, many of which are the very same heirloom blades that have come to represent your families and their honor.
They've aligned their strength with ours to deter foreign Invaders on more than one occasion. They have laid their lives down for ours on more than one occasion. They have promised to do so again.
In exchange for everything they have done, they do not ask much from us. A marriage every generation to renew and reinforce the ties. Having specific Abandoned tribes that are under their protection that we will not attack. Asking humans to not enter their lands without permission, and if we do violate that, being subject to their laws (and do keep in mind - I am one of the few who knows firsthand, more than most, just what that means). Requiring mutual defense against those foes which threaten both of our peoples.
They do not ask us to give up our right to self-rule. They do not ask us to give up our gods. They do not ask to put us under any laws that are not our own and are not those specified within our treaty.
They allow us to be free. Asking why the Nox'alfar aren't doing more is foolish - they have been incredibly generous to us and continue to be so, despite us forgetting the treaties, despite us violating them even recently.
The Compact would not exist were it not for our allies. And that is what the Nox are. They do not seek to usurp us. They do not seek to rule us. They are, in fact, allowing this choice to happen - because they believe we should be free to choose our own destiny. Yet they still support us as allies should.
I'm not quite certain what more people want from them.
Written By Bliss
Feb. 12, 2019, 9:43 a.m.(7/22/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Arik
Champions absolutely should not be representing House honor in the same way that a Sword does, and we do not fight the kinds of duels that end or prevent wars. Our fight is for personal honor of individuals.
Written By Bliss
Feb. 5, 2019, 4:19 a.m.(7/7/1010 AR)
A decision looms, and debate flourishes around us. The debate in and of itself is a healthy thing, our minds and faculties being put to use, assumptions being challenged, and enlightenment coming forth through these words. Those of us who are on the extremes are unlikely to be swayed one way or the other, but I have immensely enjoyed reading what I've read.
Whisper House remains neutral. We support those in the Compact who are making this decision and are available for advice, but our real work will be after it is made - in forging the bonds of Civilization no matter what path is taken from here. The transition can be a painful one, or it can be one into which we take efforts to ease into smoothly.
Now, for disclosure, what I write next is as someone who did help resettle former thralls into, of all places, the Telmarch.
My advice for everyone is simply this: be better.
I've thrown those words out before, and they are intentionally always a little vague, but I will clarify what I mean here this time.
First, understand who it is you are going to be, who you are trying to be. Picture yourself in utter success and abject failure both. Become comfortable with both of these visions, for which of you it may be is not entirely under your control. Sit and think on the myriad paths your life will take after you make the decision you do, and try to understand who the person coming is. Is she a grand defender of the ways of her homeland, strong and supportive even against opposition, recognizing the flaws of our society but deeming them necessary for us to continue? Is he a liberator, fierce and strong, unrepentant in his desire to see freedom - no matter the cost?
A wise pragmatist, who knew that pride would only cut us down, and who saw a better way and chose to take it even if it meant risks for such esoteric things as who we are? A stalwart defender of the Faith, holding strong against the corrupting outide forces who seek to make us less than what we were promised?
Hold all these people in your mind. See them at their best. See them at their worst. Who feels right to you?
But we're not done yet. Not by any means.
Now we move a hundred years in the future. Your story is being told, and everything is stretched to its extremes, both your flaws and your failures. You are being used to teach a lesson to children - what do you want them to have learned when they look at your life and the decisions you've made, for yourself and your land?
Five hundred years. Your name is synonymous with your values, and things are attributed to you that you never did because maybe bards telling stories associated with you added creative embellishments or twisted what was told. How does the story change? Who are you to these people?
A thousand years. Your name is forgotten, and you are little more than a concept that has left its mark in the world. What does the society that bore your influence look like? Are you proud, imagining it?
Best and worst. Success and failure. Hold these in mind.
When you know who you want to be with all this in mind, be better. See your goal, understand where you are, and lay the path out that you will have to take. Start with the step in front of you, and move to others off of that. Develop smaller goals that you can achieve and work to them. Understand your tools fully.
Be better. Whatever it is you are, be the best version of it you can be. Then get to work.
We all need to be at our pinnacle in the coming days, no matter what happens next.
Whisper House remains neutral. We support those in the Compact who are making this decision and are available for advice, but our real work will be after it is made - in forging the bonds of Civilization no matter what path is taken from here. The transition can be a painful one, or it can be one into which we take efforts to ease into smoothly.
Now, for disclosure, what I write next is as someone who did help resettle former thralls into, of all places, the Telmarch.
My advice for everyone is simply this: be better.
I've thrown those words out before, and they are intentionally always a little vague, but I will clarify what I mean here this time.
First, understand who it is you are going to be, who you are trying to be. Picture yourself in utter success and abject failure both. Become comfortable with both of these visions, for which of you it may be is not entirely under your control. Sit and think on the myriad paths your life will take after you make the decision you do, and try to understand who the person coming is. Is she a grand defender of the ways of her homeland, strong and supportive even against opposition, recognizing the flaws of our society but deeming them necessary for us to continue? Is he a liberator, fierce and strong, unrepentant in his desire to see freedom - no matter the cost?
A wise pragmatist, who knew that pride would only cut us down, and who saw a better way and chose to take it even if it meant risks for such esoteric things as who we are? A stalwart defender of the Faith, holding strong against the corrupting outide forces who seek to make us less than what we were promised?
Hold all these people in your mind. See them at their best. See them at their worst. Who feels right to you?
But we're not done yet. Not by any means.
Now we move a hundred years in the future. Your story is being told, and everything is stretched to its extremes, both your flaws and your failures. You are being used to teach a lesson to children - what do you want them to have learned when they look at your life and the decisions you've made, for yourself and your land?
Five hundred years. Your name is synonymous with your values, and things are attributed to you that you never did because maybe bards telling stories associated with you added creative embellishments or twisted what was told. How does the story change? Who are you to these people?
A thousand years. Your name is forgotten, and you are little more than a concept that has left its mark in the world. What does the society that bore your influence look like? Are you proud, imagining it?
Best and worst. Success and failure. Hold these in mind.
When you know who you want to be with all this in mind, be better. See your goal, understand where you are, and lay the path out that you will have to take. Start with the step in front of you, and move to others off of that. Develop smaller goals that you can achieve and work to them. Understand your tools fully.
Be better. Whatever it is you are, be the best version of it you can be. Then get to work.
We all need to be at our pinnacle in the coming days, no matter what happens next.
Written By Bliss
Feb. 4, 2019, 2:07 a.m.(7/5/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Thena
While I appreciate the offer, there are a number of us here who would be heartbroken if little Flopsy were to leave. He is a source of great amusement.
Largely because of how loudly I end up yelling.
Largely because of how loudly I end up yelling.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.