Written By Rowan
Dec. 23, 2016, 10:46 p.m.(6/19/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Ida
Mama Ida. Is twenty-something too old to be adopted? She makes the best fucking toys, and I think she'd probably spoil me rotten. She has a motherly way about her, in the way that makes you want to drag in after a shit day, flop down, and ask her for cinnamon struesel cakes. With caramel and sweet cream. And little pieces of apple cooked in honey. The tart ones, not the sweet ones. Hint hint.
Written By Rowan
Dec. 23, 2016, 2:43 a.m.(6/17/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Neve
When I was very little, before my parents returned to the soil, my mother used to tell me stories about a magical boy who refused to grow up and a tiny winged fae that kept him company through his adventures, who helped him out of trouble as often as she helped him into it.
Neve is my tiny winged fae.
Neve is my tiny winged fae.
Written By Rowan
Dec. 23, 2016, 2:39 a.m.(6/17/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Muiryn
The very fact that he has not throttled me and skinned me alive and strung my flayed body up by my toes by now assures me that somewhere...under all that surly stoicism...he cares.
He'll grump, he'll growl, he'll curse the day I was born, but I am well certain he'll also be among the first to stand with me if I needed it.
He's a teddy bear.
He'll grump, he'll growl, he'll curse the day I was born, but I am well certain he'll also be among the first to stand with me if I needed it.
He's a teddy bear.
Written By Rowan
Dec. 18, 2016, 7:06 p.m.(6/4/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Niamh
I'm pretty sure my mother wishes I would be more like my sister. She does well by her title and has been here in Arx ahead of me by three years, making a name for herself and the Greenwood.
She still won't fall for my pranks and still rolls her eyes at my jokes. At least her elk still likes me better.
She still won't fall for my pranks and still rolls her eyes at my jokes. At least her elk still likes me better.
Written By Rowan
Dec. 18, 2016, 6:55 p.m.(6/4/1005 AR)
I spent one night drinking with some sailors on the beach. Not a lot in common with the lot, and at the same time, more than you'd think.
They taught me a new song to add to my repertoire of tunes to make my sister smack the back of my head. It goes thusly:
I had just come home and took a room, I was all setled in to recline,
When I saw a delectable maiden go by, To the room right next to mine.
Like a bold adventurer then, I set out to explore,
And I took up a position there by, The keyhole in the door.
The keyhole in the door, my boys, the keyhole it he door.
I took up a position there by the keyhole in the door.
She first took off her slippers, her dainty feet did show,
And then she took her bloomers off, and revealed her so-and-so.
And when she stretched out on her bed, I couldn't stand no more,
It was one, two, three, and I turned the key, in the keyhole in the door.
The keyhole in the door, my boys, the keyhole in the door.
It was one, two, three and I turned the key, in the keyhole in the door.
She didn't say a single word, But she took me in her arms,
And pretty soon I was much engaged, In charting all her charms.
But just in case some other sailor, did see the sights I saw,
I hung up my trousers right above the keyhole in the door.
The keyhole in the door, my boys, the keyhole it he door.
I hung up my trousers right above the keyhole in the door.
That night I sailed in glorious style, and other things besides,
And on her lily white stomach, Boys, I rode such lovely tides.
But when I woke next morning, Boys, My instrument was sore.
As if I had been using it on the keyhole in the door.
The keyhole in the door, my boys, the keyhole it he door.
As if I had been using it on the keyhole int he door.
Be warned by this, young sailormen, And listen unto me,
What I caught then, no fishermen have ever caught at sea.
Beware the pox, the hidden rocks, that lie in wait ashore,
It's safer by far to bend your spar in the keyhole in the door.
The keyhole in the door, my boys, the keyhole it he door.
It's safer by far to bend your spar in the keyhole in the door.
They taught me a new song to add to my repertoire of tunes to make my sister smack the back of my head. It goes thusly:
I had just come home and took a room, I was all setled in to recline,
When I saw a delectable maiden go by, To the room right next to mine.
Like a bold adventurer then, I set out to explore,
And I took up a position there by, The keyhole in the door.
The keyhole in the door, my boys, the keyhole it he door.
I took up a position there by the keyhole in the door.
She first took off her slippers, her dainty feet did show,
And then she took her bloomers off, and revealed her so-and-so.
And when she stretched out on her bed, I couldn't stand no more,
It was one, two, three, and I turned the key, in the keyhole in the door.
The keyhole in the door, my boys, the keyhole in the door.
It was one, two, three and I turned the key, in the keyhole in the door.
She didn't say a single word, But she took me in her arms,
And pretty soon I was much engaged, In charting all her charms.
But just in case some other sailor, did see the sights I saw,
I hung up my trousers right above the keyhole in the door.
The keyhole in the door, my boys, the keyhole it he door.
I hung up my trousers right above the keyhole in the door.
That night I sailed in glorious style, and other things besides,
And on her lily white stomach, Boys, I rode such lovely tides.
But when I woke next morning, Boys, My instrument was sore.
As if I had been using it on the keyhole in the door.
The keyhole in the door, my boys, the keyhole it he door.
As if I had been using it on the keyhole int he door.
Be warned by this, young sailormen, And listen unto me,
What I caught then, no fishermen have ever caught at sea.
Beware the pox, the hidden rocks, that lie in wait ashore,
It's safer by far to bend your spar in the keyhole in the door.
The keyhole in the door, my boys, the keyhole it he door.
It's safer by far to bend your spar in the keyhole in the door.
Written By Rowan
Dec. 15, 2016, 7:46 p.m.(5/23/1005 AR)
Arriving to Arx? Relief. Not for reaching the great beacon of civiliation on the equally great hill, no, but because I'd run out of mead two days prior and my elk gets to acting like he has a thorn in his ass when the mead runs out.
The city is as it's always said to be, a great spectacle of granduer and power. No one ever spoke to me about the ocean though. How anyone could carry on about the city with the vastness of the sea stretching out from its foundations is beyond my simple understanding.
I have never wandered far from the Greenwood. The most I'd seen of seas were in the paintings around the castle. Stories, pictures, even the fine works of art, don't do it justice. I lost track of the hours I knelt in the surf, listening to the waves and the seabreeze. If nothing else comes of this trip, if I went home to my familiar wooded trails tomorrow, meeting the sea has made the trip worthwhile.
The city is as it's always said to be, a great spectacle of granduer and power. No one ever spoke to me about the ocean though. How anyone could carry on about the city with the vastness of the sea stretching out from its foundations is beyond my simple understanding.
I have never wandered far from the Greenwood. The most I'd seen of seas were in the paintings around the castle. Stories, pictures, even the fine works of art, don't do it justice. I lost track of the hours I knelt in the surf, listening to the waves and the seabreeze. If nothing else comes of this trip, if I went home to my familiar wooded trails tomorrow, meeting the sea has made the trip worthwhile.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.