Written By Norwood
June 8, 2019, 10:11 a.m.(4/1/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Amari
Please don't walk about the city daring people to hit you.
My hair is gray enough.
My hair is gray enough.
Written By Arcadia
June 8, 2019, 9:26 a.m.(4/1/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Elloise
Elly!
I /know/ you are back in town. I saw your raven. And really, who else could cause such a mess in the stacks?!
I will find you and give you the biggest hug when I find you!
I /know/ you are back in town. I saw your raven. And really, who else could cause such a mess in the stacks?!
I will find you and give you the biggest hug when I find you!
Written By Amari
June 8, 2019, 7:49 a.m.(4/1/1011 AR)
I'm as good at giving sermons as I am at catching wild horses, apparently. I wish Jael and Norwood could have rescued me from the former as they did the hooves of the latter. I'm not sure which hurt most, being trampled or realizing I'd just spent five minutes ineptly extolling the virtues of trees and squirrels.
I should have stayed at home.
I should have stayed at home.
Written By Rinel
June 8, 2019, 4:16 a.m.(4/1/1011 AR)
I took the opportunity to briefly read through the more notable of my journal entries. I remember the young woman who came to Arx with bright-eyed curiosity and an easily roused joy at life. I remember some saying that it would be hard for such joy to last.
I fear they were right. It is difficult, at times, to stand up for what is right. I have assumed a reputation that has become at times a being of its own creation--when I counsel caution and deference to the Faith, I am branded an upstart who brazenly seeks to speak on behalf of the Church.
The ire of distant cities little concerns me. But the Faith is everywhere, everything. To the extent that most tolerate me, it is as a curiosity--a raving woman from the Oathlands, with some small measure of intelligence and far more confidence than prudence.
This is a lonely life. Atreke helps, at times. My few friends help. Chunk helps perhaps most of all, though he neither realizes it nor cares. Of course there are the letters from Maman and Papa, but their love is dimmed by grief at my transgressions--and they are a continent away.
And Wynna. I think I believed grief would fade. Or perhaps to grieve is a skill which I never learned. Others have suffered greater losses--and yet I am overcome by the simplest of reminders.
It would be nice to smile again. I miss the girl I was. Perhaps I grieve for her, too. Perhaps she died that day as well--in violent conflict. Or maybe it was a wasting illness--the slow atrophy of the soul, when errors compounded and were met by the wrath of a Faith that young woman could recognize only in its unyielding sternness.
The Rinel Tern who arrived in Arx could not have imagined the wicked deeds I have done. What happened to her?
What happens to me?
What am I becoming?
I fear they were right. It is difficult, at times, to stand up for what is right. I have assumed a reputation that has become at times a being of its own creation--when I counsel caution and deference to the Faith, I am branded an upstart who brazenly seeks to speak on behalf of the Church.
The ire of distant cities little concerns me. But the Faith is everywhere, everything. To the extent that most tolerate me, it is as a curiosity--a raving woman from the Oathlands, with some small measure of intelligence and far more confidence than prudence.
This is a lonely life. Atreke helps, at times. My few friends help. Chunk helps perhaps most of all, though he neither realizes it nor cares. Of course there are the letters from Maman and Papa, but their love is dimmed by grief at my transgressions--and they are a continent away.
And Wynna. I think I believed grief would fade. Or perhaps to grieve is a skill which I never learned. Others have suffered greater losses--and yet I am overcome by the simplest of reminders.
It would be nice to smile again. I miss the girl I was. Perhaps I grieve for her, too. Perhaps she died that day as well--in violent conflict. Or maybe it was a wasting illness--the slow atrophy of the soul, when errors compounded and were met by the wrath of a Faith that young woman could recognize only in its unyielding sternness.
The Rinel Tern who arrived in Arx could not have imagined the wicked deeds I have done. What happened to her?
What happens to me?
What am I becoming?
Written By Giuliano
June 8, 2019, 2:44 a.m.(4/1/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Felix
I walk into this smithy, and there's a princess looking to order weapons. That's probably a good sign. Then I notice it's Messere Felix behind the counter! Well, I was pleased to see an old friend who kept Setarco armed for so long. Now he's going to make me a pair of rapiers that I know will be lethal works of art. I ought to give him a big, manly hug.
Written By Mabelle
June 8, 2019, 2:30 a.m.(4/1/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Braden
What a way to go. I believe it not. You knew the roads to Acorn Hill like you knew the palm of your hand.
I refuse to believe you just got lost, I refuse to believe you just died. I think you just found a better place for you.
If you did then, I am happy for you and will mourn you no longer, beloved Cousin.
I refuse to believe you just got lost, I refuse to believe you just died. I think you just found a better place for you.
If you did then, I am happy for you and will mourn you no longer, beloved Cousin.
Written By Giuliano
June 8, 2019, 1:23 a.m.(4/1/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Rook
Wine money.
Written By Calista
June 8, 2019, 1:06 a.m.(4/1/1011 AR)
When I hold you in my arms at night, I am in awe of how I once held you dear within my body; How was it that you grew inside of me and now have grown to just about half my height? Time passes too quickly, my darling, but I cherish these quiet stolen moments with you.
I love to see your sleepy eyes attempt to remain open while I retell the tale of heroic chivalry; how we were once saved and how I will continue to protect you. One day I will pass the torch on to you, and all that is mine will be yours. But for tonight, stay precious, my sweet. The world is a far better place in your eyes.
I love to see your sleepy eyes attempt to remain open while I retell the tale of heroic chivalry; how we were once saved and how I will continue to protect you. One day I will pass the torch on to you, and all that is mine will be yours. But for tonight, stay precious, my sweet. The world is a far better place in your eyes.
Written By Vincenzo
June 7, 2019, 10:52 p.m.(3/28/1011 AR)
*There's a design that's been drawn here and underneath is the written journal accompanying it.
The hammer of Jayus struck again today as soon as I touched those bolts with my hands. A flowing gown, open and breezy reminding me of southern evenings where silk moved in the warm night breezes. The steelsilk with a light gold hue, similar to how the morning sun shines on pearlescent drops of dew transforming them to gilted drops of gold, bright and warm. Drawn with a belt of luxury brocade at the waist, roses of neodymium amongst intertwined vines of praseodymium embroidered on the brocade. The silk spilling and sliding across the body freely, drawn at the waist and neck only. A gorgeous chocker with epiphanite and dawnstones worked in to show her as the summer sun bringing warmth to where she graces others like flowers with her presence.
The sun brings the gemmed flowers to gaze upwards at her glory and rejoice to feel her nearby.
The hammer of Jayus struck again today as soon as I touched those bolts with my hands. A flowing gown, open and breezy reminding me of southern evenings where silk moved in the warm night breezes. The steelsilk with a light gold hue, similar to how the morning sun shines on pearlescent drops of dew transforming them to gilted drops of gold, bright and warm. Drawn with a belt of luxury brocade at the waist, roses of neodymium amongst intertwined vines of praseodymium embroidered on the brocade. The silk spilling and sliding across the body freely, drawn at the waist and neck only. A gorgeous chocker with epiphanite and dawnstones worked in to show her as the summer sun bringing warmth to where she graces others like flowers with her presence.
The sun brings the gemmed flowers to gaze upwards at her glory and rejoice to feel her nearby.
Written By Rysen
June 7, 2019, 10:22 p.m.(3/28/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Radhilde
It was an honor to write for you, and I had a great time at the engagement party. I wish you and Lord Archeron all the best in your new life together.
Written By Monique
June 7, 2019, 9:31 p.m.(3/28/1011 AR)
"Hunting Thorns"
I'm beyond thrilled that there's a term for collecting the qualifying Thorns for the Tournament. I wish the best of fortune to anyone Hunting Thorns. You make this fulfilling for me and I thank you.
I'm beyond thrilled that there's a term for collecting the qualifying Thorns for the Tournament. I wish the best of fortune to anyone Hunting Thorns. You make this fulfilling for me and I thank you.
Written By Rymarr
June 7, 2019, 8:54 p.m.(3/28/1011 AR)
The Academy of War has the thanks of House Deepwood. When there was a need, those martial minds rose to the occasion. A business transaction it may have been, but one well aligned with the purpose of the Academy of War.
Written By Emrys
June 7, 2019, 8:54 p.m.(3/28/1011 AR)
My time so far within the Shrine of the Thirteenth has proven to be rather interesting. My thoughts have, as would be expected, gone to the Silent Reflections, yet less on the punishment suffered than what it would take. What it would take, were I a Scholar, to break my oaths to Vellichor. To break the sanctity and secrecy of the Black Journals.
What if the very Compact could be saved by one breaking their oath?
It is easy to romanticize such choice. To empathize and understand. Yet, before one would break an oath to save the world, they should make sure that such breaking of oath is even needed in the first place, and if a better path might not be there for them to take. For to be an Oathbreaker is no small thing, and rarely are we served by choosing recklessly on such matters.
What if the Compact could be saved by my breaking my oath?
I would sit back, and consider such matter very, very carefully.
What if the very Compact could be saved by one breaking their oath?
It is easy to romanticize such choice. To empathize and understand. Yet, before one would break an oath to save the world, they should make sure that such breaking of oath is even needed in the first place, and if a better path might not be there for them to take. For to be an Oathbreaker is no small thing, and rarely are we served by choosing recklessly on such matters.
What if the Compact could be saved by my breaking my oath?
I would sit back, and consider such matter very, very carefully.
Written By Sina
June 7, 2019, 8:05 p.m.(3/28/1011 AR)
I should not have to remind anyone that discussion of burning books or white journals will result in an inquiry by the Faith of the Pantheon. Such heresy will not be tolerated by the Scholars of Vellichor, whose sole duty is the guardianship of knowledge.
Written By Evander
June 7, 2019, 7:25 p.m.(3/28/1011 AR)
I have decided I wish to become a Disciple of Vellichor. I have spent all my life around books - in fact, when I was young I didn't have anything else, since I was ill a lot - the written word, the fictional and otherwise - were what tethered me to the world outside. This past two months with the Scholars has confirmed for me I at least wish to become a Disciple. In all honesty, I have given some consideration to becoming Godsworn, but I feel as if my ties to my family are too strong to consider it at this time. This is one of the things I will be reflecting on as I spend my week in the Shrine of the Thirteenth.
Written By Narcissa
June 7, 2019, 6:34 p.m.(3/28/1011 AR)
[Scribe's Note: Poet wanted Scholar to note it is an 'explication of a once extempore thought']
An army rides forth, name and honor to defend,
The foe advances, opponent surely but motive akin.
The ringing of steel, sinews to wrench and rend,
Amid sanguine fields, both hold virtue and sin.
The lift of the sword promises no honor or offense,
The mind that wields just as easily can yield.
Amid wolves and ravens, the vulture's dispense,
The little death's corpses that litter the field.
For what is in the promise of the trope's word?
Ashes of the pyre, the secret shared to gird.
An army rides forth, name and honor to defend,
The foe advances, opponent surely but motive akin.
The ringing of steel, sinews to wrench and rend,
Amid sanguine fields, both hold virtue and sin.
The lift of the sword promises no honor or offense,
The mind that wields just as easily can yield.
Amid wolves and ravens, the vulture's dispense,
The little death's corpses that litter the field.
For what is in the promise of the trope's word?
Ashes of the pyre, the secret shared to gird.
Written By Elloise
June 7, 2019, 4:35 p.m.(3/28/1011 AR)
LOG:
I confess.
It was I. It was I who accidentally set up a physics experiment in the Archives and it was I who saw that physics experiment get WILDLY out of hand and it was I who WATCHED that physics experiment come unhinged and....
Listen.
I had asked for some lab notes and it was all PERFECTLY INNOCENT, I was SURE I could create a quicker mechanism for delivering books and notes and I CAN, I KNOW I CAN, but I didn't have the right MATERIALS.
Anyway, I'm very sorry, I'm inventing something to clean it up.
I confess.
It was I. It was I who accidentally set up a physics experiment in the Archives and it was I who saw that physics experiment get WILDLY out of hand and it was I who WATCHED that physics experiment come unhinged and....
Listen.
I had asked for some lab notes and it was all PERFECTLY INNOCENT, I was SURE I could create a quicker mechanism for delivering books and notes and I CAN, I KNOW I CAN, but I didn't have the right MATERIALS.
Anyway, I'm very sorry, I'm inventing something to clean it up.
Written By Mirella
June 7, 2019, 4:34 p.m.(3/28/1011 AR)
Tangential to some of the philosophical considerations that have been rippling through the Whites as of late, I've been considering how far my sympathy extends to those who harm me.
If someone were to do me (or by extension, people or things I hold dear) a great, great ill, then the last thing I would think about is how the value of their life is equal to mine. It's at that point I stop caring about them at all. They decided to take an action that caused me injury of some kind: the consequence of such an action is that I no longer concern myself with their wellbeing. Their fate is their own, crafted by their choices and their deeds. Let them deal with it.
Maybe that's a Lycene sentiment. Maybe not. Very likely it's a product of my upbringing. But is it a bad way of thinking? I suppose that's not for me to judge.
If someone were to do me (or by extension, people or things I hold dear) a great, great ill, then the last thing I would think about is how the value of their life is equal to mine. It's at that point I stop caring about them at all. They decided to take an action that caused me injury of some kind: the consequence of such an action is that I no longer concern myself with their wellbeing. Their fate is their own, crafted by their choices and their deeds. Let them deal with it.
Maybe that's a Lycene sentiment. Maybe not. Very likely it's a product of my upbringing. But is it a bad way of thinking? I suppose that's not for me to judge.
Written By Thea
June 7, 2019, 3:54 p.m.(3/28/1011 AR)
Do I expect acknowledgement for anything I've done? No. But I will say it was nice to show I have more talents than what it is perceived....
Written By Amari
June 7, 2019, 3:44 p.m.(3/28/1011 AR)
Don't try to wear someone else's plate armor if they're half a foot taller than you. Lesson learned.
Thankfully the major pieces of my own properly fitted armor are finally complete and I can move well in them without any pinching or rubbing. The sparrow motif is hardly the most intimidating, but it has significance to me and it's very handsome in my opinion. I hope all the rest of it turns out as well and will greatly reduce the number of bruises and wounds I end up with in future engagements.
But, is it normal to feel slightly invincible? I probably shouldn't stroll around the city eyeball daring people to hit me but this new feeling of invulnerability is fantastic.
Thankfully the major pieces of my own properly fitted armor are finally complete and I can move well in them without any pinching or rubbing. The sparrow motif is hardly the most intimidating, but it has significance to me and it's very handsome in my opinion. I hope all the rest of it turns out as well and will greatly reduce the number of bruises and wounds I end up with in future engagements.
But, is it normal to feel slightly invincible? I probably shouldn't stroll around the city eyeball daring people to hit me but this new feeling of invulnerability is fantastic.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.