Written By Oswyn
July 11, 2020, 7:05 a.m.(8/19/1013 AR)
I'm settling back into life in Arx well after my time spent teaching at Twinbridge. Shopkeeping is a delight. I had not quite forgotten the appeal of the rows of quills and inks and blank books and listening to the world go by from the counter as I work, catching glimpses through the open door.
And the people! While Twinbridge had no shortage of students, the passersby who stop at Scribing Supplies in Arx are many and varied. Subjects of conversation are similarly diverse. Someone often emerges having learned something new. Often that person is me.
Milton has done an excellent job with the shop in my absence and I am very grateful to him and his hard work. The shop has kept people supplied with affordable wares and will continue to do so. I look forward to catching up with old friends and making new ones.
And the people! While Twinbridge had no shortage of students, the passersby who stop at Scribing Supplies in Arx are many and varied. Subjects of conversation are similarly diverse. Someone often emerges having learned something new. Often that person is me.
Milton has done an excellent job with the shop in my absence and I am very grateful to him and his hard work. The shop has kept people supplied with affordable wares and will continue to do so. I look forward to catching up with old friends and making new ones.
Written By Ravna
July 10, 2020, 10:28 p.m.(8/18/1013 AR)
If all weapons were wood, could you? Do you think you would?
Alacrite blades! Blades of Lore! Are they sharp - or is the mind? Both?
A three-handed man with four arms walks down the street, a boy with fresh sweets stops him and says, "Hey wow, that's neat! Freak." The man grins a grin so grinny it nearly splits his face, then pats the boy on the head - before walking by. Later the boy goes home to tell the story, and discovers missing those treats. B-bamboozled.
Woe be not the eye that is gone, woe be the eye too slow, too fogged. The eye can move and catch things quicker than a breath; but hands can move even quicker yet.
So what is better: The Blade or the Mind? If one has only a blade then a tree are they, dumb, tall, and only in the way. Oh! But a sharp mind! Brilliant, sharp, clean until unsheathed! Now THAT is a weapon, to truly treasure, THAT is a weapon to keep ready and never sheathe.
Alacrite blades! Blades of Lore! Are they sharp - or is the mind? Both?
A three-handed man with four arms walks down the street, a boy with fresh sweets stops him and says, "Hey wow, that's neat! Freak." The man grins a grin so grinny it nearly splits his face, then pats the boy on the head - before walking by. Later the boy goes home to tell the story, and discovers missing those treats. B-bamboozled.
Woe be not the eye that is gone, woe be the eye too slow, too fogged. The eye can move and catch things quicker than a breath; but hands can move even quicker yet.
So what is better: The Blade or the Mind? If one has only a blade then a tree are they, dumb, tall, and only in the way. Oh! But a sharp mind! Brilliant, sharp, clean until unsheathed! Now THAT is a weapon, to truly treasure, THAT is a weapon to keep ready and never sheathe.
Written By Piccola
July 10, 2020, 8:26 p.m.(8/18/1013 AR)
A House that perseveres in war beyond a certain limit ought to know the consequences. Others with less pertinacity have been wiped out of existence. Survive and persevere. That is the focus of war.
My knowledge of pain taught me not to be afraid. And just as in dueling when you must concentrate on your enemy's cheek, so, too, in war. You cannot waste time on feinting and sidestepping. You must decide on your target and go in.
For our enemies, war they have chosen. Other simpler remedies were within their choice. They wanted war, and I say let us give them all they want; not a word of argument, not a sign of let up, no cave in till we are destroyed or they are.
My knowledge of pain taught me not to be afraid. And just as in dueling when you must concentrate on your enemy's cheek, so, too, in war. You cannot waste time on feinting and sidestepping. You must decide on your target and go in.
For our enemies, war they have chosen. Other simpler remedies were within their choice. They wanted war, and I say let us give them all they want; not a word of argument, not a sign of let up, no cave in till we are destroyed or they are.
Written By Kastelon
July 10, 2020, 5:53 p.m.(8/18/1013 AR)
Lady Thea Malvici has gifted me a milking cow. It is the kindest gift I have received since the Marquessa gave me this signet ring. And Apollo his swimming shorts.
I will take this opportunity to extend my public thanks to all three...
And offer a cup of fresh milk to anyone who might come across this journal. You may find me on the Keaton grounds with my trusty cow.
I will take this opportunity to extend my public thanks to all three...
And offer a cup of fresh milk to anyone who might come across this journal. You may find me on the Keaton grounds with my trusty cow.
Written By Kaia
July 10, 2020, 4:56 p.m.(8/18/1013 AR)
Just a couple of days ago little Arsenia Malvici, the second of her name, arrived to us in this world. Oh, and, how blessed are we in Malvici and Bisland to have her. She has my eyes (those piercing blue-grey eyes), yet, aside from that and being a lady, she's the living picture of her father. My beloved Martino and I are truly overjoyed now that she's here with us.
We are so thankful to our peers, our allies, friends and family for their kind well-wishes and delightful, little and grand, gifts. The Suite has never been more full of flowers than today. How wonderful! Reminds me a bit of Pridehall, to be surrounded by so much gorgeous flora.
But, that is not all! It has only been a few days and the little one already has both a nickname and a title. Little 'Nia' after having baptized her darling father's new and shiny brocade with milky fluids, and being loud as bell, has earned the title of 'The Screamer of Southport'. May her loud commanding voice resonate with the Malvici troops on the coming years.
We are so thankful to our peers, our allies, friends and family for their kind well-wishes and delightful, little and grand, gifts. The Suite has never been more full of flowers than today. How wonderful! Reminds me a bit of Pridehall, to be surrounded by so much gorgeous flora.
But, that is not all! It has only been a few days and the little one already has both a nickname and a title. Little 'Nia' after having baptized her darling father's new and shiny brocade with milky fluids, and being loud as bell, has earned the title of 'The Screamer of Southport'. May her loud commanding voice resonate with the Malvici troops on the coming years.
Written By Lys
July 10, 2020, 12:21 p.m.(8/18/1013 AR)
I dreamt of the well again. I sat on the lip of it, and watched as others came to it and dipped their cups in. They drank deep and glowed with satisfaction. I watched as each was healed of grievous wounds. I watched as the lame drank and could walk away. I watched as the old grew young once more. I watched as the dead were brought back to life.
But when I dipped my own cup into the well the water turned to ash in my mouth.
But when I dipped my own cup into the well the water turned to ash in my mouth.
Written By Mirari
July 10, 2020, 12:18 p.m.(8/18/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Costas
My love,
Word of your passing is not wide spread. Unsurprising because I don't think any of your friends knew you were even in the city. I sit now with a bottle of the cologne I originally made for you-- I still have the formula written down --and am wafting the smell toward me. I can almost hear your gruff voice. I can almost feel your calloused fingers upon my shoulder. The world is dimmer without your bright eyes to bring me light. Sounds are muffled and dull without your raspiness to give them texture. Sensations are dulled without the roughness of your palms to give them definition.
Love is dead. It leaves with you.
But rest assured. Whoever did this will get what they deserve.
Word of your passing is not wide spread. Unsurprising because I don't think any of your friends knew you were even in the city. I sit now with a bottle of the cologne I originally made for you-- I still have the formula written down --and am wafting the smell toward me. I can almost hear your gruff voice. I can almost feel your calloused fingers upon my shoulder. The world is dimmer without your bright eyes to bring me light. Sounds are muffled and dull without your raspiness to give them texture. Sensations are dulled without the roughness of your palms to give them definition.
Love is dead. It leaves with you.
But rest assured. Whoever did this will get what they deserve.
Written By Shard
July 10, 2020, 6:11 a.m.(8/17/1013 AR)
I dream a lot, and a lot of those dreams aren't pleasant. That's not something that should be surprising to anyone, and it's certainly not something either surprising or uncommon among people who do a lot of fighting, particularly in wars. Soldiers, warriors, sellswords, hunters; it's not always the case, but there's probably something to be learned about a person who ends up, willingly or not, killing a lot of other people, and whether or not they ever have bad, bloody dreams. I don't know what it says about me that mine aren't usually about war.
The good ones, though, aren't usually very complicated. There's often a lot of running, but the enjoyable sort of running, the kind you do when you want to, or when you're the one doing the chasing. More smells and sounds than images. Crisp air. Pine trees. Bird calls. Campfire smoke. The crunch of half frozen grass or old snow. There are other people; I'm usually not running alone. Sometimes I smell blood in these dreams too, but it's from a successful hunt, not a battle.
One type of dream can flow into another. The nightmare I usually have tends to pop up when it's especially not welcome. It works both ways, though, sometimes a dream about a terrible night becomes a dream about a good one. Often in particularly weird or jarring ways. Even dreams that are just memories don't want to make too much sense.
And, no, I don't have a good reason as to why I'm bothering to write about dreams in the middle of the night instead of actually dreaming. I felt like it.
The good ones, though, aren't usually very complicated. There's often a lot of running, but the enjoyable sort of running, the kind you do when you want to, or when you're the one doing the chasing. More smells and sounds than images. Crisp air. Pine trees. Bird calls. Campfire smoke. The crunch of half frozen grass or old snow. There are other people; I'm usually not running alone. Sometimes I smell blood in these dreams too, but it's from a successful hunt, not a battle.
One type of dream can flow into another. The nightmare I usually have tends to pop up when it's especially not welcome. It works both ways, though, sometimes a dream about a terrible night becomes a dream about a good one. Often in particularly weird or jarring ways. Even dreams that are just memories don't want to make too much sense.
And, no, I don't have a good reason as to why I'm bothering to write about dreams in the middle of the night instead of actually dreaming. I felt like it.
Written By Raja
July 9, 2020, 11:07 p.m.(8/17/1013 AR)
I am surprised I was elected to be on the Commoner's Council. It is actually quite exciting! I hope in this position I can actually make a difference in the Lowers. The others in the Council have so many amazing ideas. It's going to be a journey to implement the things being discussed! We think that first, we need to figure out what exactly the commoners want. What are their needs?
Written By Bahiya
July 9, 2020, 3:42 p.m.(8/16/1013 AR)
It is one thing to journey to a new world, your feet carrying you across docks and oceans to lands unvisited, to learn of new people and new ways of thinking.
It is quite another to look back at your old world, and discover something horribly new about it, and all your worst worries confirmed.
It is quite another to look back at your old world, and discover something horribly new about it, and all your worst worries confirmed.
Written By Nina
July 9, 2020, 3:39 p.m.(8/16/1013 AR)
I am so, so happy to have held my first fashion showcase with such success! I'm so grateful for everyone who came and the charity we raised.
Wow! I usually have more words, but I think I used them all up at the show with my artists' statements.
But if people enjoy my fashion then they should know that I also got help to make something fabulous for the finale ball too! I almost showed it at the show last night but I'm saving it now for a surprise.
Wow! I usually have more words, but I think I used them all up at the show with my artists' statements.
But if people enjoy my fashion then they should know that I also got help to make something fabulous for the finale ball too! I almost showed it at the show last night but I'm saving it now for a surprise.
Written By Miranda
July 9, 2020, 1:13 p.m.(8/16/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Martino
Congratulations to my dear second-cousin, Lord Martino Malvici and his lovely wife, Kaia on their daughter's birth!
All my love!
... Good luck, Martino! You are outnumbered.
All my love!
... Good luck, Martino! You are outnumbered.
Written By Sirius
July 9, 2020, 10:12 a.m.(8/15/1013 AR)
Hello again, custodian,
Earlier this week I finally took that final step into joining the Faith. Took a bit, a good few years of deliberation, but I've realized that I've devoted enough time into the house of Valardin since my arrival to have earned some reprieve from military drill. Since touching the roads of Arx, every day's been one of physical strain. Training, trying to improve the body and, because of it, the mind's been somewhat sequestered.
No longer.
Legate Ailith didn't do much for introductions, and that is fine, she needed not enter any kind of deliberation with me as she's an incredibly busy woman. She, instead, laid upon my being an endless library of information for me to wade through. Journals upon tomes upon books atop piles and mounds of pages, dusty and new, with hand-stitched edges and others faded. I hadn't realized how much I missed being submerged in documentation.
I know in the past I told you it'd perhaps be the Prince of Stories who'd take me away, but in the end I chose Limerance. My choice was somewhat affected by an old friend, whose words moved me some while in the presence of His altar. Oathkeeping and duty have always been interesting subjects to me, avenues I feel for us humans to go beyond the mundane cravings of our mortal coil into something greater.
Either way, I digress somewhat. All the faces I've met thus far in my short tenure in the Faith have been unfailingly kind and I'm humbled by it. Now, I believe, is time to get to work.
Take care, custodian.
Earlier this week I finally took that final step into joining the Faith. Took a bit, a good few years of deliberation, but I've realized that I've devoted enough time into the house of Valardin since my arrival to have earned some reprieve from military drill. Since touching the roads of Arx, every day's been one of physical strain. Training, trying to improve the body and, because of it, the mind's been somewhat sequestered.
No longer.
Legate Ailith didn't do much for introductions, and that is fine, she needed not enter any kind of deliberation with me as she's an incredibly busy woman. She, instead, laid upon my being an endless library of information for me to wade through. Journals upon tomes upon books atop piles and mounds of pages, dusty and new, with hand-stitched edges and others faded. I hadn't realized how much I missed being submerged in documentation.
I know in the past I told you it'd perhaps be the Prince of Stories who'd take me away, but in the end I chose Limerance. My choice was somewhat affected by an old friend, whose words moved me some while in the presence of His altar. Oathkeeping and duty have always been interesting subjects to me, avenues I feel for us humans to go beyond the mundane cravings of our mortal coil into something greater.
Either way, I digress somewhat. All the faces I've met thus far in my short tenure in the Faith have been unfailingly kind and I'm humbled by it. Now, I believe, is time to get to work.
Take care, custodian.
Written By Lucita
July 9, 2020, 9:37 a.m.(8/15/1013 AR)
Oh dear. my assistant Micana admitted she tried to conceal Lord Martino's comment about welcoming applicants for nanny from 'our' nanny, Jatal (just as a joke, Jatal is happy where she is). Jatal just rolled her eyes and admitted she was going no-where when she saw it anyhow.
Written By Thea
July 9, 2020, 8:52 a.m.(8/15/1013 AR)
I can officially announce....I'm an aunt again. Congratulations to my brother Martino and sister in law Kaia. I do believe I heard my brother's clothes were safe from unnecessary stains. I also hear he's accepting applications for nannies. I will happily screen them in advance. Would hate for him to have extra duties tacked on at the moment...
Written By Sydney
July 9, 2020, 1:48 a.m.(8/15/1013 AR)
My mood has been black lately, and I can't quite put my finger on why.
I blame the lack of time striking at that which can actually strike back, unlike the men of stick and straw at the Training Center, or half of the nobility that decides they're brave enough to test their shiny new swords against me and wind up not even landing a strike that tastes of anything before going down.
Perhaps a trip is in order. Clear my head. Find someone who can kick my ass and leave me wondering what the fuck just hit me. I've not felt that since Sir Jeffeth Bayweather threw me clear over his head in the sands, or that unrelenting wall named Harlex Valtyr whittled me down without breaking a sweat.
When I'm not aiming at something higher, I feel as though some of my motivation bleeds away. Perhaps that's the root of it.
I blame the lack of time striking at that which can actually strike back, unlike the men of stick and straw at the Training Center, or half of the nobility that decides they're brave enough to test their shiny new swords against me and wind up not even landing a strike that tastes of anything before going down.
Perhaps a trip is in order. Clear my head. Find someone who can kick my ass and leave me wondering what the fuck just hit me. I've not felt that since Sir Jeffeth Bayweather threw me clear over his head in the sands, or that unrelenting wall named Harlex Valtyr whittled me down without breaking a sweat.
When I'm not aiming at something higher, I feel as though some of my motivation bleeds away. Perhaps that's the root of it.
Written By Zoey
July 9, 2020, 1 a.m.(8/15/1013 AR)
I must say, I like Miss Nina Autumndale's work. The gowns she made for the auction today were all lovely pieces, and the event itself was enjoyable to attend. I will definitely seek her own for other gowns in the future.
It is also worth noting that Mistress Svana surprising me with a gift of the beautiful gown with which I left me nearly speechless. Such generosity inspires me to be better every day.
It is also worth noting that Mistress Svana surprising me with a gift of the beautiful gown with which I left me nearly speechless. Such generosity inspires me to be better every day.
Written By Aconite
July 8, 2020, 10:14 p.m.(8/14/1013 AR)
Spidersilk at the Harlequins. The most beautiful elegant dresses I have seen in a while - not disparaging those recently in my possession - but there was something about the deadly sensual drape of the spider silk gowns at the Death Festival fashion show that caught my eye. Truly spectacular. Mistress Nina and Whisper Selene had unquestionable talent and taste.
The performance of Mistress Jacali and her companion in her inspired outfits along with the one that I had made for me also made quite the stir. I hope that it brings her shop business, she is an undersold talent and destined - I am certain - for great designs. Also, her perfume and cologne are heavenly. I mustn't let Orick overhear or he'll be jealous... Or maybe I should.
Also I saw an unmitigated display of respect for the Harlequins and their festival, as well as some examples of affection between houses that were touching.
The performance of Mistress Jacali and her companion in her inspired outfits along with the one that I had made for me also made quite the stir. I hope that it brings her shop business, she is an undersold talent and destined - I am certain - for great designs. Also, her perfume and cologne are heavenly. I mustn't let Orick overhear or he'll be jealous... Or maybe I should.
Also I saw an unmitigated display of respect for the Harlequins and their festival, as well as some examples of affection between houses that were touching.
Written By Dio
July 8, 2020, 9:21 p.m.(8/14/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Marian
Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors, nor idleness and luxury a strong body. A great leader and trainer can push one to shatter their limits, and so it is with the Warchief of House Redrain.
Written By Wylla
July 8, 2020, 10:43 a.m.(8/13/1013 AR)
If you happen to receive a missive with a request for you to choose three words for me, it's not for nefarious purposes. I'm not sure why that needs be said, but have no fear in that regard. The words are for a work I have in mind, and I'll need quite a few of them. If you happen to read this and would like to volunteer three words, you're more than welcome to do so. They can be any three. They can be off the top of your head, or carefully considered, whatever feels most right to you.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.