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Written By Mabelle

Jan. 4, 2020, 11:47 p.m.(7/4/1012 AR)

Relationship Note on Eirene

When a woman tougher than me refers to me as steel, I know I'm doing things right.

It is always a pleasure to meet the veterans of the city. I pray we shall cooperate more in the future.

Written By Cyril

Jan. 4, 2020, 11:36 p.m.(7/4/1012 AR)

One must not wait for the Gods to come down but instead rise to meet them.

Written By Rosalind

Jan. 4, 2020, 10:38 p.m.(7/4/1012 AR)

I have been reading all this stuff about crows. I'm so curious now! What is it? What did you see? I want to help you!

Written By Rosalind

Jan. 4, 2020, 10:38 p.m.(7/4/1012 AR)

I have been reading all this stuff about crows. I'm so curious now! What is it? What did you see? I want to help you!

Written By Appolonia

Jan. 4, 2020, 10:11 p.m.(7/3/1012 AR)

I had two people draw suspicion on my offer of a drink today, and at least one of them was alive. Oh, the pain. The pain!

Written By Arcadia

Jan. 4, 2020, 9:39 p.m.(7/3/1012 AR)

I have been absent this last week or two. a spur of the moment trip to take Ginny to see the wonders of Bonespire and the mountains.

While the snow had not disappeared, I watched her marvel at the splendor that is the wilderness. I saw her pick up all manner of leaves and twigs. She took to patting and chasing any animal that came close enough.

I enjoyed watching the shamans give her blessings and for her to be welcomed by the people. Part of me yearned to stay there for longer. To enjoy the simplicity of life and enjoy the calm the forest brings me but, there is work to still do and I am needed in the city.

Written By Dianna

Jan. 4, 2020, 9:39 p.m.(7/3/1012 AR)

It is interesting to me how knowledge can change a person so immensely; how removing the state of blissful ignorance digs trenches in the mind and heart and soul to a state that can never truly be repaired nor recovered.

It is very much like filling those trenches with gold and sparkling gemstones - even if knowledge is rejected by the ignorant, by those who know not the difference between fools' gold and the genuine article - but worse. It is as if, for those who are ignorant, gold has no meaning whatsoever, and is worth less than dirt.

To the simple, humble farmer, perhaps this is true, and soil is worth far more than gold.

To me, to Archscholar Sina, to many, having learned the meaning and value of gold - of knowledge, that is - it is not something I can, nor wish to forget.

But the weight is greater, surely; and this allegory holds: knowledge is surely the greater weight over ignorance; and it is, at times, burdensome. I wish to spend it, at times; to make it more and greater, lighter than it is - such as gold and silver may be spent on aeterna and umbra, stygian and mirrorsilver, diamondplate and alaricite - and lighter, by far, than the equivalent cost of all.

What is knowledge for, but to be spent on protection, on beauty?

What is life, itself, for - but the acquiring of knowledge to be spent on these, and shared with others, generously?

I worry, though, that - as I cannot leave behind what knowledge I have yet and may amass that I do not share, it will be lost; and yet, I can no easier spill my knowledge here, in the Whites, than I could drop my wealth upon the streets of Arx and expect it to bear fruit, to grow, to flourish - to protect, as I would have it do.

Such are the thoughts I have upon nearing the end of this dark mess that is one who would, for over three hundred years, spend knowledge on naught but his own glory, his own vanity - to /harm/ others, rather than to protect.

/This/ knowledge weighs upon me heavily, this eve. This knowledge; and I am wearied by it, more even than the prayers and focus they have demanded of me; more than the days spent on horseback; more than the stifling hours spent in torturous, stifling heat that nearly took yet another steed from me.

I want to drink and make this lighter, somehow; to forget, for a moment, or rest, blissfully, this knowledge on a sea of brandy.

I will go drink. I will likely need to bring my dear Fio with me to ensure I make it home again; but I will go drink.

It is yet a wonder to me that liquor is the only pillow for the weight of this 'gold'.

Love, perhaps, is another, and better - but my loves elude me, this eve.

So, I will drink.

Perhaps, in that time, I will be blessed with yet another to love, who will, in return, love me.

Written By Monique

Jan. 4, 2020, 9:29 p.m.(7/3/1012 AR)

I've been contemplating Archscholar Py's reflections on the Laws of Protection a great deal lately, and how they relate to the Laws of the Dream. It's an interesting relation, and one I don't know if you can quantify tangibly, save in the case of the Nox, but even that is conjecture. Would that I knew how to properly test the Archscholar's theory...

Written By Sydney

Jan. 4, 2020, 8:56 p.m.(7/3/1012 AR)

How does one proceed when they can see their destination, but balk at the means of reaching it?

Gradually and tentatively would seem to be the answer. At least in the meantime, I've made it clear that I'm willing to participate in any cause that I think might reasonably better Arx and its people - and that pays more than a handful of coppers in recompense for the risk to my well-being.

The skills of a pugilist are to be reckoned with - so long as you don't need me to spot a trap or sneak my way out of any situation, do consider me. I am a weapon that rivals any sword.

Written By Richard

Jan. 4, 2020, 3:57 p.m.(7/3/1012 AR)

On waking up this day, I felt more myself than I have in months. There is work at my hands and duty to fill, once again, at last. While I am not yet fully recovered, I am now moving properly forward. I am eager.

Written By Lenne

Jan. 4, 2020, 1:56 p.m.(7/3/1012 AR)

I long for the time when my studies are complete, and I can share them in the Whites. Until that blessed day, I shall continue to share my life, instead.

Mother was a Telmar. This is an important point.

I'm not much of a noble, I often feel. But Mother did, at least, impart me with the importance of dignity, reserve, poise, and respect for the self that starts with respectability before others. Those are all fine things, but they don't really mix well when one was a wild child, who was more often in the woods than in Court. To say nothing of one who would rather have been in a library than around others, when not in those woods.

I don't like to think I'm frigid. I feel great warmth for people. Perhaps even too quickly for my own good. But expressing that has been a trial, given inexperience and far too much Oathlands reserve for a Northlander.

I've spoken about love (and kissing!), in these journals, in the hopes that my fumblings would be read by others in similar dire social straights, and encourage them. So in a similar vein, I will say this; we all need closeness. A hug, a held hand, a cuddle even, if one is feeling terribly bold. Love and affection and nearness unknots something inside of you. It makes everything else that much easier. It brings confidence, and contentedness. It makes it easier to forget, for a moment, your troubles. That's a comfort beyond price.

And it probably makes you much less of an ass. I've certainly had the displeasure of meeting a few people who could clearly use a hug, to alleviate their cynicism and unfriendliness and delight in cruelty.

I still have difficulty in touching, and even more in being touched. But every time I force myself to allow it, it gets easier. And every time it gets easier, it feels like more is right with the world, and the next becomes less of a trial. So find someone who cares, and reach out, even if it feels like the world will end if you try. Because it probably won't. If you can't do it for yourself, call it a service to Lagoma. The world will get better for it, and probably not just for you.

Written By Lisebet

Jan. 4, 2020, 1:40 p.m.(7/3/1012 AR)

It is lovely to catch up with friends, and I am glad I had the chance. Apparently I should go hang out at the Hall of Heroes more often.

Written By Thea

Jan. 4, 2020, 1:23 p.m.(7/3/1012 AR)

Martino is bitching again about being on a boat. Insert eye roll. Sailing is great! I'm rather excited for our family dinner. Sans seeing my mother...Gods.

Written By Jyri

Jan. 4, 2020, 1:21 p.m.(7/3/1012 AR)

Long preparations, hard work, our souls put into it. The work started before I joined the Spirit Walkers, and I am proud to have been part of finishing it with all those dedicated people. The Stone Grove is once more green and fertile.

Written By Rhue

Jan. 4, 2020, 12:03 p.m.(7/3/1012 AR)

There is some comfort derived from hearing I am far from the only one plagued with strange, ominous dreams. I wish I had a better understanding of its meaning. Perhaps then I could get that song out of my head!


There are days when I miss the quiet and serenity of the Whitewood. I sometimes feel ill-equipped to handle the complexities of life within this strange bustling city, and yet when I consider the word 'home', Arx comes to mind now.

I thank the gods and the spirits for the knowledge I have gained and for that not yet attained.

I thank the gods and the spirits for the people I have grown to love and cherish - cousin Irisa, the Whitehawks, friends near and dear to my heart.

And I thank the gods and the spirits for the challenges that I have encountered...

In some ways, I feel so far removed from the young naive girl who first arrived to the city. Who knows what future days will bring?

Written By Mirella

Jan. 4, 2020, 10:04 a.m.(7/2/1012 AR)

I've been hearing some odd things about crows recently. Odd, but intriguing. I'm not sure what to make of this, but I wonder if it has any connection to a dream that has been playing on my mind for many months.

One thing I do know, however, is this: anyone who harms my crow will regret it very much.

Written By Lucita

Jan. 4, 2020, 9:33 a.m.(7/2/1012 AR)

Relationship Note on Eirene

You're back in Arx! And you were missed so much. Now our children can grow up together.

Written By Lucita

Jan. 4, 2020, 9:32 a.m.(7/2/1012 AR)

Relationship Note on Silvio

Where are the pointy shoes and the bling and the sparkles? Where is that unique fashion? Ahhh, My Lord Silvio, I hardly recognized you in that black armor, stylish as you made it. Still, was good to see you, you make me smile.

Written By Mirk

Jan. 4, 2020, 7:52 a.m.(7/2/1012 AR)

High Shaman Drea Redrain. Vala Khanne Halfshav. Lord Danvir Ravenseye. Duke Kaldur Crovane. Lord Jyri Whitehawk. Baroness Acantha Clearlake. Lord Vano Rivenshari. Leonaess Valeux. Lady Mikani Crovane. Duchess Fianna Crovane.

These are my people, the Spirit Walkers. I might be on a different path than some of them, but I will always remember the fellowship I shared with them at the Stone Grove, their earnest efforts to heal what had withered: Lord Jyri clearing those plants that had died, cutting away so that new life could come forth. Others planting seeds to replace what was lost. The ringing of the bells, strung up in the High Shaman's rituals so many months ago now. Lady Mikani and Lady Fianna on their first outings as Spirit Walkers, becoming one of us in their deeds as much as their words. And, of course, the prayers and the offerings, each shaman asking for the aid of the spirits so that the Grove might be green once more.

There are smaller moments, I'm sure, contributions to the whole that I missed because I was occupied elsewhere at that moment, but I like to think that I have a memory of each of you to carry forwards.

The rest of the Spirit Walkers, those of you who were not present for the planning or the rituals: You still helped. Your efforts have built the support and the connections that made this day possible.

Archlector Brigida of Petrichor. Archscholar Sina Godsworn. Duke Aiden Rubino. Sister Sophie Valardin.

Each one brought the blessings and the wisdom of the Pantheon to the Stone Grove, in their own fashion. Some through their prayers, some through the work of their own hands. We found common ground with the Faith of the Pantheon here, for the Stone Grove is sacred to both shaman and Godsworn, and together we accomplished something beautiful.

Prince Darren Redrain. Vincenzo Villente. Petal Penrose. Cillian Weatherwood.

Neither Spirit Walker nor representative of the Faith, still you made your presence felt at the Stone Grove. Your reasons are different, as each of you came to this effort from different perspectives. Whatever your reasons, you still supported us. Your contributions will be remembered.

Thank you all.

Written By Martino

Jan. 4, 2020, 5:19 a.m.(7/2/1012 AR)

No less than three members of the family said they would prefer to sail than carriage to Southport for a family gathering - you would think we were a family of sailors.

Well some are. Maybe just them. If we do I am taking wine, Stones and asking to be blessed with great patience.

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