Written By Percephon
Jan. 21, 2018, 12:05 a.m.(1/4/1008 AR)
Sometimes an answer can hurt more than the question.
Edit, added on 1.5.1008: The following was a result after imbibing a glass of very fine sherry in a very delicate glass. Lord-Magister Percephon Telmar only took that glass in celebration of the events of the day or so prior.
No furniture was hurt in the process.
Edit, added on 1.5.1008: The following was a result after imbibing a glass of very fine sherry in a very delicate glass. Lord-Magister Percephon Telmar only took that glass in celebration of the events of the day or so prior.
No furniture was hurt in the process.
Written By Percephon
Jan. 18, 2018, 3:32 p.m.(12/27/1007 AR)
A portion of a speech that I am writing that will hopefully be used to inspire our banners:
"Look at us, gathered today -- so many great Houses, so many families. He have family that is answering the call to rise up and lift their banners as one. We have loyal bannermen that will be prepared to travel far, and we have the ones that cannot come but who are here in spirit. We may all on be different journeys, but today we gather as one -- one whole that is not all the same but one that includes the disparities and supports each other in times of peace and especially now in times of war. We are present to make an impact on our future, and these names -- these banners raised in unison -- are a physical artifact that embodies our passion and beliefs as Oathlanders. They give us courage when we prepare to stand against our shared enemy in the world, and we will keep reminding our enemy where we came from, what we stand for, and where we are heading toward."
"Look at us, gathered today -- so many great Houses, so many families. He have family that is answering the call to rise up and lift their banners as one. We have loyal bannermen that will be prepared to travel far, and we have the ones that cannot come but who are here in spirit. We may all on be different journeys, but today we gather as one -- one whole that is not all the same but one that includes the disparities and supports each other in times of peace and especially now in times of war. We are present to make an impact on our future, and these names -- these banners raised in unison -- are a physical artifact that embodies our passion and beliefs as Oathlanders. They give us courage when we prepare to stand against our shared enemy in the world, and we will keep reminding our enemy where we came from, what we stand for, and where we are heading toward."
Written By Percephon
Jan. 13, 2018, 9:56 p.m.(12/18/1007 AR)
Allow it to be known that on this morning in Autumn, 1007:
Lord Percephon Telmar, Magister of the Vellichorian Academy and Seneschal of Sanctum cannot hit a bullseye with neither dart nor dagger. But, with his spectacles off -- can manage to throw a rock that hits a tree at ten, perhaps twelve, paces away in order to pass the Explorer's Exam.
I need a drink to celebrate.
Of water.
Lord Percephon Telmar, Magister of the Vellichorian Academy and Seneschal of Sanctum cannot hit a bullseye with neither dart nor dagger. But, with his spectacles off -- can manage to throw a rock that hits a tree at ten, perhaps twelve, paces away in order to pass the Explorer's Exam.
I need a drink to celebrate.
Of water.
Written By Percephon
Jan. 2, 2018, 10:15 p.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
From the Rose of Woodstone Hall, an adventure novel:
The sharp sound of a scream tore the curtain of tranquility from outside the carriage. Then there was a hard stop, a jolt which caused all of the horses to stop in their tracks, and the sole passenger inside the carriage lurched - gasping with surprise. Lifting the curtain, a young woman with cobalt-blue eyes named Dinah glanced out to call to the driver of the carriage, but she saw three shadowy figures approaching quickly on horseback at frightening speed.
An arrow whizzed through the air and caught in the shoulder of the driver, who cried out in pain and fell out of his seat in the carriage. The reins slipped from his hands, and the horses started to rear back in blind-eyed fear of the uncertain. In order to keep the horses in control, Dinah lunged for the doorway, intent on climbing into the driver's vacated seat.
"Hold tight," she told herself, "I've got this --"
Her rallying cry was cut short when another arrow shot by within inches and lodged itself into the wood of the carriage, sending splinters flying. All this did was to make Dinah all the more determined to escape these unknown brigands. Her knuckles went white on the reins but her grin was confident. She had the courage to do what needed to be done and did it quickly, flicking the reins to start the horses forward at a breakneck pace.
As she glanced back, she could see the faces of the wild-eyed mad brigands as they relentlessly began to chase down the carriage. She sneered and turned back, focused, as she clung to the reins of the carriage that was slowly veering out of control. Her heart lept within her throat, but she knew that she would make it because she believed that she would.
From up ahead in the road, she spied the figure of another horse. Seated impeccably in the saddle was the petite figure of a masked woman in rose-red, chocolate brown hair done into an elaborate style. She spurred the horse forward, and Dinah watched as horse and rider blurred past the racing carriage. The masked figure pulled something from her hair, two wands of bright shining steel --
-- one by one the brigands were stabbed and knocked from their horses --
-- Again, Dinah's heart lept --
-- The masked rider blazed past the carriage again, looking toward the Dinah as she slowed the carriage to a manageable pace. Jade green eyes met cobalt blue amid the dwindling commotion. The masked rider seemed to have an aura of mystery and energy about her, which was both intriguing and frightening.
"You did well, messere," complimented the rose-red rider.
"You did pretty good too," added Dinah, grinning. "I had it in hand, but, thank you!"
"Never doubted it for a moment. Shall we ride to the next town together?"
"We can. Is there anyway that I can learn your name? I mean, I get the need to be the masked heroine of mystique, but it's a pretty big mouthful --"
"Jocelle, The Rose of Woodstone Hall."
The sharp sound of a scream tore the curtain of tranquility from outside the carriage. Then there was a hard stop, a jolt which caused all of the horses to stop in their tracks, and the sole passenger inside the carriage lurched - gasping with surprise. Lifting the curtain, a young woman with cobalt-blue eyes named Dinah glanced out to call to the driver of the carriage, but she saw three shadowy figures approaching quickly on horseback at frightening speed.
An arrow whizzed through the air and caught in the shoulder of the driver, who cried out in pain and fell out of his seat in the carriage. The reins slipped from his hands, and the horses started to rear back in blind-eyed fear of the uncertain. In order to keep the horses in control, Dinah lunged for the doorway, intent on climbing into the driver's vacated seat.
"Hold tight," she told herself, "I've got this --"
Her rallying cry was cut short when another arrow shot by within inches and lodged itself into the wood of the carriage, sending splinters flying. All this did was to make Dinah all the more determined to escape these unknown brigands. Her knuckles went white on the reins but her grin was confident. She had the courage to do what needed to be done and did it quickly, flicking the reins to start the horses forward at a breakneck pace.
As she glanced back, she could see the faces of the wild-eyed mad brigands as they relentlessly began to chase down the carriage. She sneered and turned back, focused, as she clung to the reins of the carriage that was slowly veering out of control. Her heart lept within her throat, but she knew that she would make it because she believed that she would.
From up ahead in the road, she spied the figure of another horse. Seated impeccably in the saddle was the petite figure of a masked woman in rose-red, chocolate brown hair done into an elaborate style. She spurred the horse forward, and Dinah watched as horse and rider blurred past the racing carriage. The masked figure pulled something from her hair, two wands of bright shining steel --
-- one by one the brigands were stabbed and knocked from their horses --
-- Again, Dinah's heart lept --
-- The masked rider blazed past the carriage again, looking toward the Dinah as she slowed the carriage to a manageable pace. Jade green eyes met cobalt blue amid the dwindling commotion. The masked rider seemed to have an aura of mystery and energy about her, which was both intriguing and frightening.
"You did well, messere," complimented the rose-red rider.
"You did pretty good too," added Dinah, grinning. "I had it in hand, but, thank you!"
"Never doubted it for a moment. Shall we ride to the next town together?"
"We can. Is there anyway that I can learn your name? I mean, I get the need to be the masked heroine of mystique, but it's a pretty big mouthful --"
"Jocelle, The Rose of Woodstone Hall."
Written By Percephon
Jan. 2, 2018, 9:26 p.m.(11/22/1007 AR)
Taken from the Treatise of Internal Alchemy, a draft:
Among the best known goals of the alchemist was, perhaps, the transmutation of common metals into gold or silver. Better known is plant alchemy, or the creation of panaceas or poisons (or various other remedies that, supposedly, can be made to cure any ailment or cause one to suffer indefinitely) and the discovery of a universal solvent (ah, theories.) Although these are not the only uses for the discipline (how many perfumes can someone make, truly), they are the ones most documented and well-known. I am more prone to argue that the transmutation of lead into gold is more analogy - for the transmutation of the physical body (lead) into the spiritual body (gold) with the goal of attaining ... well.
Among the best known goals of the alchemist was, perhaps, the transmutation of common metals into gold or silver. Better known is plant alchemy, or the creation of panaceas or poisons (or various other remedies that, supposedly, can be made to cure any ailment or cause one to suffer indefinitely) and the discovery of a universal solvent (ah, theories.) Although these are not the only uses for the discipline (how many perfumes can someone make, truly), they are the ones most documented and well-known. I am more prone to argue that the transmutation of lead into gold is more analogy - for the transmutation of the physical body (lead) into the spiritual body (gold) with the goal of attaining ... well.
Written By Percephon
Dec. 31, 2017, 11:58 p.m.(11/16/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Joscelin
My cousin, Corban, is generally lack-toes intolerant. However, I might be able to foot the bill.
Written By Percephon
Dec. 28, 2017, 5:14 p.m.(11/10/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Eirene
I feel as though it’s now a mission to encourage rational trolling.
Written By Percephon
Dec. 27, 2017, 6:06 p.m.(11/8/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Monique
That was probably me, apologies. There's a particular circular niche in the main hall that amplifies subdued noises and makes them sound /really/ dark and foreboding.
Written By Percephon
Dec. 27, 2017, 12:21 p.m.(11/7/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Clover
Allow me, Duchess-Consort Farshaw, to provide the following suggestions:
* Morale Farshaw
* Realm Farshaw
* Errol Farshaw
* Rearm Farshaw
* Morrel Farshaw
* Lea Rose Farshaw
* Ale Sore Farshaw
* Aloe Farshaw
* Lore Farshaw
* Morale Farshaw
* Realm Farshaw
* Errol Farshaw
* Rearm Farshaw
* Morrel Farshaw
* Lea Rose Farshaw
* Ale Sore Farshaw
* Aloe Farshaw
* Lore Farshaw
Written By Percephon
Dec. 22, 2017, 12:45 p.m.(10/25/1007 AR)
To the memories of Dame Zhayla of Old Oak and Lord Killian Ashford, the Paladin of Ideals:
Non Omnis Moriar.
Non Omnis Moriar.
Written By Percephon
Dec. 19, 2017, 1:10 p.m.(10/19/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Alis
Sticks and scones may break your bones, but breakfast will never harm you.
Written By Percephon
Dec. 19, 2017, 12:01 p.m.(10/19/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Edain
DTF: Data Transferal Format.
It appears to be the new collective colloquialism, an acronym, for sending missives.
Not unlike the strange trend of sending short messages by using songbirds as couriers.
It appears to be the new collective colloquialism, an acronym, for sending missives.
Not unlike the strange trend of sending short messages by using songbirds as couriers.
Written By Percephon
Dec. 17, 2017, 8:25 p.m.(10/16/1007 AR)
* Citron, peppermint, lemon, eucalyptus, basil, clove, thyme, lemongrass, geranium, and lavender.
* Cedar, citronella, eucalyptus, tea tree, lemongrass, lavender, orange, and pine.
* Rose geranium, juniper, rosewood, thyme, grapefruit, and oregano.
* Cedar, citronella, eucalyptus, tea tree, lemongrass, lavender, orange, and pine.
* Rose geranium, juniper, rosewood, thyme, grapefruit, and oregano.
Written By Percephon
Dec. 17, 2017, 6:31 p.m.(10/16/1007 AR)
To celebrate the grand proclamation of Prince Edain -- Highlord of the Oathlands, Prince of Prince of Sanctum, the Baconbringer and amateur goatherd -- and Princess Consort Caelis Valardin, I will be returning to my leisurely pursuit of art in the form of stuffed animals and figures. Starting with a line of patchwork Timmons, the pygmy goat. Each Timmons will be lovingly and meticulously made by hand. The highest form of art that I can produce in order to honor the High Lord and his Princess Consort.
Written By Percephon
Dec. 15, 2017, 12:31 p.m.(10/11/1007 AR)
If I didn't have a mountain of growing notes and other various documentation and books starting to pile up around my work-space, I would have missed the note that I made to myself: 'Update Journal.' So, I have -- although it's more likely that I will need to spend a half a day in order to properly write down all of my exploits (bold and daring feats -- hardly, but it sounds terribly interesting, doesn't it?) since the fated return to the capital city. There's more, naturally, and there is always more to write down.
But, there's even more to do and I have procrastinated enough today. I need to return to the research.
Be patient with your Scholar, Vellichor.
But, there's even more to do and I have procrastinated enough today. I need to return to the research.
Be patient with your Scholar, Vellichor.
Written By Percephon
Nov. 27, 2017, 2:05 p.m.(9/2/1007 AR)
Using my newfound knowledge ( thank you, Corban ) -- I have started to take it upon myself to begin my own translation work. Starting from an entirely different angle than my cousin has.
In the Archives, I have discovered a disorganized stack of papers that seem to compile a series of folktales, poems, and songs from a Shav'arvani tribe. I remain uncertain as to which tribe -- and when -- but I can recognize the language in which they were written. This has given me a rare opportunity to not only improve my language study, but, to refine my skills in bookbinding. I will transcribe the words faithfully and will do my best to protect the integrity of the original illustrations.
These papers seem to mainly consist of traditional narratives that include proverbs, lyrics, and stories that belonged to this social group. It's interesting to me that these also seem to embody their cultural values -- hopes, dreams, aspirations, myths -- transmitted through word of mouth and preserved. Now, on fresh pages instead of aged and crumbling parchment.
Easy to remember and share, it's a careful honor to be a part of history that can be charted and saved for subsequent examinations. To allow others to see the similarities among the stories of Arvum's various cultures.
In the Archives, I have discovered a disorganized stack of papers that seem to compile a series of folktales, poems, and songs from a Shav'arvani tribe. I remain uncertain as to which tribe -- and when -- but I can recognize the language in which they were written. This has given me a rare opportunity to not only improve my language study, but, to refine my skills in bookbinding. I will transcribe the words faithfully and will do my best to protect the integrity of the original illustrations.
These papers seem to mainly consist of traditional narratives that include proverbs, lyrics, and stories that belonged to this social group. It's interesting to me that these also seem to embody their cultural values -- hopes, dreams, aspirations, myths -- transmitted through word of mouth and preserved. Now, on fresh pages instead of aged and crumbling parchment.
Easy to remember and share, it's a careful honor to be a part of history that can be charted and saved for subsequent examinations. To allow others to see the similarities among the stories of Arvum's various cultures.
Written By Percephon
Nov. 9, 2017, 11:33 a.m.(7/20/1007 AR)
So true. A small problem gets larger if you ignore it. Smart bit of pro-poop-ganda, there.
Written By Percephon
Oct. 29, 2017, 4:22 p.m.(6/26/1007 AR)
To be quite honest with you, Princess Marian, I think we all should be wearing those stockings on the day of the duel in solidarity.
That said, the next logical question is: what pattern were they? And, following that: do I have the legs for stockings?
I think the resounding answer to that last question is a whole-hearted *yes.*
That said, the next logical question is: what pattern were they? And, following that: do I have the legs for stockings?
I think the resounding answer to that last question is a whole-hearted *yes.*
Written By Percephon
Oct. 25, 2017, 6:48 p.m.(6/18/1007 AR)
Relationship Note on Cristoph
Duke Cristoph Laurent: the queen bee, the bee's knees, the bee all, will take no beeswax unless you're pollen his leg. Darling bee, bumble bee, honey bee to his Duchess. Honey Duke to all of us. When it's warm, he's a swarm. He has fans that drone on and on and on. Culture? Yes, so much culture. Apiculture. These puns don't hurt -- they sting.
I might have joined the hivemind in buzzing his praises, but now I'll force myself to beehave.
I might have joined the hivemind in buzzing his praises, but now I'll force myself to beehave.
Written By Percephon
Oct. 7, 2017, 6:12 p.m.(5/10/1007 AR)
On the concept known as the Alchemical Marriage, it is considered the most sublime and potent expression of the Union of Duality. It represents the ultimate conjunction, or bonding, of all aspects of duality and represents the pure harmony which can exist when aspects are solemnly blended into One. This duality can be witnessed during an eclipse when the moon completely covers, and entirely unites with, the sun. In that brief and rare moment the moon and sun occupy the exact same point. Symbolically and celestially one. I, personally, will never experience ...
[ The rest of the entry has been scribbled out. ]
[ The rest of the entry has been scribbled out. ]
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.