Written By Delilah
June 4, 2019, 10:23 a.m.(3/21/1011 AR)
I hear a great deal upon how we have failed as a nation. How we are arrogant as a people and shut our minds to the information around us. How we have forgotten a great deal of our past, to our own everlasting shame. How we are ignorant, failing to look outside our boundaries for answers, lessons in history, and our place in the world.
I am so very tired of it.
Do you curse the person who hasn't the insights to know the right questions to ask? Of course not. You teach them the context of an issue so they can find the right words.
Would a master artisan shout down a brand-new apprentice for having no idea how to use a chisel? Never. They would be shown the tool, the basic techniques, then refinements to the foundational knowledge as the student learned.
A swordsman doesn't expect a green recruit to match him on the sands, or slay monsters haunting the Gray Forest.
Then why, with the tribulations and trials of our lands, are we castigated for losing books of our history or investigating the wrong theories by those in a position to help us? Our attempts to find our way in the darkness and the mire of history, which is rarely a clear path at the best of times, earn scorn heaped by the imperious voices blessed by the position of good fortune and steep defense of their records.
Rather than reach out to elucidate and clarify, we are accused of being content by not asking for details. Yet we put out our hands and inquire most politely, only to have them slapped away for the audacity to question.
How peculiar a dichotomy.
I challenge the privileged: teach us. You reaped the reward of your forebears' labour or acquired it through hard work of your own and others. Pass on that gift to those around you. Do not expect us to leap to our feet and shout questions when we have neither the words or the awareness to do so, for this is a turbulent stage in history and society both.
What encourages us to look beyond our own borders is so often denied, our boldness used to strike back at us like a student acting out of turn.
Again, the vision of the student and the teacher. A good teacher does not bait a student with obscure terms, and then berate them for lack of understanding. Perhaps they might set out a challenge to stimulate curiosity and arouse interest.
I dare you to give wings to those who would fly in the vast spaces of discovery. Do not launch stones and arrows at those seeking the means for wisdom to carry them aloft.
I am so very tired of it.
Do you curse the person who hasn't the insights to know the right questions to ask? Of course not. You teach them the context of an issue so they can find the right words.
Would a master artisan shout down a brand-new apprentice for having no idea how to use a chisel? Never. They would be shown the tool, the basic techniques, then refinements to the foundational knowledge as the student learned.
A swordsman doesn't expect a green recruit to match him on the sands, or slay monsters haunting the Gray Forest.
Then why, with the tribulations and trials of our lands, are we castigated for losing books of our history or investigating the wrong theories by those in a position to help us? Our attempts to find our way in the darkness and the mire of history, which is rarely a clear path at the best of times, earn scorn heaped by the imperious voices blessed by the position of good fortune and steep defense of their records.
Rather than reach out to elucidate and clarify, we are accused of being content by not asking for details. Yet we put out our hands and inquire most politely, only to have them slapped away for the audacity to question.
How peculiar a dichotomy.
I challenge the privileged: teach us. You reaped the reward of your forebears' labour or acquired it through hard work of your own and others. Pass on that gift to those around you. Do not expect us to leap to our feet and shout questions when we have neither the words or the awareness to do so, for this is a turbulent stage in history and society both.
What encourages us to look beyond our own borders is so often denied, our boldness used to strike back at us like a student acting out of turn.
Again, the vision of the student and the teacher. A good teacher does not bait a student with obscure terms, and then berate them for lack of understanding. Perhaps they might set out a challenge to stimulate curiosity and arouse interest.
I dare you to give wings to those who would fly in the vast spaces of discovery. Do not launch stones and arrows at those seeking the means for wisdom to carry them aloft.
Written By Sparte
June 4, 2019, 9:39 a.m.(3/21/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Victus
You know I drink milk, too. It isn't only an Oathlanders thing.
Written By Lucita
June 4, 2019, 9:30 a.m.(3/21/1011 AR)
Today I am eating soft foods and drinking soothing teas, not because am ill but because my tongue is sore from biting it so much to avoid rudely interrupting or skeptically questioning some of the comments at an educational session at the Vellichor Academy the night past.
Written By Arcadia
June 4, 2019, 5:19 a.m.(3/21/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Ahmar
This morn I asked my brother Lord Corbit Leary to come visit at the Saving Grace hospital. As he was sharing with me all that was known about the ship and the people aboard, Lord Ahmar decided to speak his mind.
He took offense when we disagreed with him and commented that people who were slaves should be referenced as such to not diminish their suffering. That it wasn't just people on board a ship, but a group who had been tortured and injured and subjected to inhumane conditions. He believed that slavers who tortured the souls on the boat should have equal value as those they injured, and that Lord Corbit was wrong to see a distinction between those who are victims and those who chose a life of crime.
He mocked Lord Corbit for not being at the dock as the boat crashed and made light of the work a scholar does, then threatening him with "I can snuff you out as easily as you can read a book." And true to his word, the man pulled his spear from beneath his bed and brandished it with intent to kill.
Lord Ahmar Nightingale planned to kill an unarmed scholar in front of a room full of Mercies and unwell patients, and when he did not get his way he twisted the words said to him to form a flimsy challenge and a lie to discredit my brother to the champions guild to feed his fragile male ego.
Though, I am sure he will tell you all that I lie too.
He took offense when we disagreed with him and commented that people who were slaves should be referenced as such to not diminish their suffering. That it wasn't just people on board a ship, but a group who had been tortured and injured and subjected to inhumane conditions. He believed that slavers who tortured the souls on the boat should have equal value as those they injured, and that Lord Corbit was wrong to see a distinction between those who are victims and those who chose a life of crime.
He mocked Lord Corbit for not being at the dock as the boat crashed and made light of the work a scholar does, then threatening him with "I can snuff you out as easily as you can read a book." And true to his word, the man pulled his spear from beneath his bed and brandished it with intent to kill.
Lord Ahmar Nightingale planned to kill an unarmed scholar in front of a room full of Mercies and unwell patients, and when he did not get his way he twisted the words said to him to form a flimsy challenge and a lie to discredit my brother to the champions guild to feed his fragile male ego.
Though, I am sure he will tell you all that I lie too.
Written By Joscelin
June 4, 2019, 2:01 a.m.(3/21/1011 AR)
The votes are pouring in and I'm delighted with the Crafters' involvement. It's like herding cats for most things but when I put them to voting, the rise to it like a tidal wave.
Written By Bhandn
June 4, 2019, 1:58 a.m.(3/21/1011 AR)
I haven't written in a while, which is more how things were, but today was enough of an experience to merit the writing.
So I did it. I asked the question that more than I was wondering, and the result of it - let alone the question that Grayfellow boy asked - made me feel a fool. I thought of it for some but not others, and that guilt keeps spinning around in my head like that game children play with a blindfold, where they try to not fall over while dizzy and blind. How fitting I was wearing a blindfold then, because it only makes me feel all the more sightless /now/.
For fuck's sake I'm tired of this feeling. Everything was simple and straightforward until a year ago.
Nothing is, now, even the simple things. But I promised I'd try. It's becoming very tiring. Was this why she seemed so wan almost every day? I hope not.
So I did it. I asked the question that more than I was wondering, and the result of it - let alone the question that Grayfellow boy asked - made me feel a fool. I thought of it for some but not others, and that guilt keeps spinning around in my head like that game children play with a blindfold, where they try to not fall over while dizzy and blind. How fitting I was wearing a blindfold then, because it only makes me feel all the more sightless /now/.
For fuck's sake I'm tired of this feeling. Everything was simple and straightforward until a year ago.
Nothing is, now, even the simple things. But I promised I'd try. It's becoming very tiring. Was this why she seemed so wan almost every day? I hope not.
Written By Victus
June 4, 2019, 1:40 a.m.(3/21/1011 AR)
At some point in our history there was a person who squeezed a cow and said "yeah, I'll drink whatever that is". Ever since, Oathlanders have celebrated.
Written By Valdemar
June 3, 2019, 11:33 p.m.(3/20/1011 AR)
Afforded a chance to learn, some of us were blinded by self-righteousness. I wish I could say I was surprised.
Written By Arcadia
June 3, 2019, 11:13 p.m.(3/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Emily
I dreamt earlier of treetops. That you and I had become monkeys and had a competition to see who could swing the furthest between branches. We both fell into a pile of leaves a giggling mess.
At the moment I wish I was a giggling money mess leather than a weak invalid being watched over by the fun guards.
At the moment I wish I was a giggling money mess leather than a weak invalid being watched over by the fun guards.
Written By Gabriella
June 3, 2019, 11:04 p.m.(3/20/1011 AR)
It's oddly fulfilling, going out among the people and offering to solve their problems. It's like a game. I never know what I'll be aksed to do, what my investigations wwill uncover, or who I might meet. All sorts of exciting possibilities. And I like helping people... I'm not a diplomat or great beauty like my cousins, nor a genius like my brother. But I have my place here, in Arx. I'll do my part.
Written By Emrys
June 3, 2019, 6:59 p.m.(3/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Dianara
There's a certain satisfaction, as a teacher, to know one's lesson is remembered, even with the passing of time. Another is to find, after so many years, that one's prediction about a student's potential was found to be correct.
Written By Wren
June 3, 2019, 3:28 p.m.(3/20/1011 AR)
I have a profound appreciation for the various mercers I've had the honor of working alongside over the years. My father is the first and foremost one that comes immediately to my mind. He has traveled the length and breadth of Arvum first out of a desire to continue the hard work his family has put into their vocation and second out of love for my mother. When he was still traveling, he would bring her the most beautiful Setarcan silks dyed in vibrant shades that had yet to reach the market of Arx when they were courting. Knowing my mother, she would no doubt make pretenses while examining the fabric, feeling its weight and silkiness between her fingers as she eyed the dye work. And knowing my father, he would persist there waiting for those countless moments to pass all for her nod of approval, that little curve of her mouth when she is positively satisfied by something.
My mother is a hard woman, clever and as sharp as her shears and needles, so it is natural that most don't see the tenderness to her. She has kept a single swatch from every length of cloth my father has laid across her sewing bench over their years together. The very first one is a discolored thing now, once a vibrant blue like midnight it has faded into something softer like a memory. From time to time I would discover her sitting at her bench while we were thought to be fast asleep, that ashwood box open and those squares brought out for her to admire, each one an act of love.
There is little uncertainty that added amongst those samples will be a neat square of this seatouched wool that has the market all in a whirl. There are few things I love more than rumors of something new, something borne of the collective dream of others. It is about time I had a brand-new cloak fashioned for myself.
My mother is a hard woman, clever and as sharp as her shears and needles, so it is natural that most don't see the tenderness to her. She has kept a single swatch from every length of cloth my father has laid across her sewing bench over their years together. The very first one is a discolored thing now, once a vibrant blue like midnight it has faded into something softer like a memory. From time to time I would discover her sitting at her bench while we were thought to be fast asleep, that ashwood box open and those squares brought out for her to admire, each one an act of love.
There is little uncertainty that added amongst those samples will be a neat square of this seatouched wool that has the market all in a whirl. There are few things I love more than rumors of something new, something borne of the collective dream of others. It is about time I had a brand-new cloak fashioned for myself.
Written By Miranda
June 3, 2019, 2:20 p.m.(3/20/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Dariel
Snoogle-woogums! You have returned safely from Pridehall!!!
I can't wait to hear all about your time on the stage!
I've missed our time together.
No more missive-tag! Let's do coffee!
I can't wait to hear all about your time on the stage!
I've missed our time together.
No more missive-tag! Let's do coffee!
Written By Vincenzo
June 3, 2019, 1:16 p.m.(3/20/1011 AR)
While winter can be bleak, cold and downright miserable, I've been thinking perhaps it should be looked at as the gods preparing a canvas and setting down that crucial foundation layer. I'm looking forward to the first tell of new life with spring's colors as buds and leaf burst out like splatters of bejeweled paint touching that canvas. With that new life no doubt there will be fresh bold ideas like fledgling birds stretching their wings and testing if they're strong enough to fly.
I thank Lagoma on this First Bloom as her touch can be seen on the canvas, bringing to a dark world the color and sound of life.
I thank Petrichor on the oncoming Farmer's Rest, and will be looking forward to the hunts planned.
And I thank the Prince of Stories, that through this constant creation we're able to share such amazing things.
I thank Lagoma on this First Bloom as her touch can be seen on the canvas, bringing to a dark world the color and sound of life.
I thank Petrichor on the oncoming Farmer's Rest, and will be looking forward to the hunts planned.
And I thank the Prince of Stories, that through this constant creation we're able to share such amazing things.
Written By Joscelin
June 3, 2019, 11:15 a.m.(3/19/1011 AR)
Breckendale Vale has proved to be a complicated situation, with satisfying work and a foothold put in however, it will be seen through. I have campaigning to do now, finding supplies on an ongoing basis in exchange for favors and goods, but I've also noted a few things about the people coming to help build: design and art in wearable items and wares brought, things that tingle at the edges of my mind. Inspiration, definitely, but not just for me, for the city to share in.
I've spoken to a few of these transplanted craftsmen, some of the things they make are unique in aesthetics but practical in function, belts that hang low and split across the hip for more support and accentuated curves, a cut to certain fabric that makes it hang without wrinkling, an alloy of certain metals that lend it qualities desirable in both ornament and blade. Trading knowledge is a beneficial negotiation for all parties. I mean to visit as often as possible, to share what we can and continue our work; we've a long way to go yet but I am intensely hopeful for the future.
I've spoken to a few of these transplanted craftsmen, some of the things they make are unique in aesthetics but practical in function, belts that hang low and split across the hip for more support and accentuated curves, a cut to certain fabric that makes it hang without wrinkling, an alloy of certain metals that lend it qualities desirable in both ornament and blade. Trading knowledge is a beneficial negotiation for all parties. I mean to visit as often as possible, to share what we can and continue our work; we've a long way to go yet but I am intensely hopeful for the future.
Written By Joscelin
June 3, 2019, 10:56 a.m.(3/19/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Ajax
I have no idea what I'll do, either, or how much different it would be. I still want to know the worries of them in the Guild, top to bottom, work out problems, talk to people. But I also want to put out the work my soul has been burdened with, heavy inspiration comes without work, I am weighed down with ideas that must. Come. Out.
I have two beautiful children to raise, one who has decided to skip the walking phase and go straight to running, and the other that continues to demonstrate his love of heights and his absolute disregard for the dangers of the world. They require more of my sanity than I have, and trying to split that with them and some thirty thousand others isn't just difficult. It's uncomfortable.
So i will be 'retired' from my position as Guildmaster, but not much else. I will still be Joscelin, mother, jeweler, artist, Crafter, no less devoted to my peers than before. More devoted, maybe, in that I want to see them put in hands that will take care of them properly, take them places I can't, guide them further into flourishing greatness.
I have two beautiful children to raise, one who has decided to skip the walking phase and go straight to running, and the other that continues to demonstrate his love of heights and his absolute disregard for the dangers of the world. They require more of my sanity than I have, and trying to split that with them and some thirty thousand others isn't just difficult. It's uncomfortable.
So i will be 'retired' from my position as Guildmaster, but not much else. I will still be Joscelin, mother, jeweler, artist, Crafter, no less devoted to my peers than before. More devoted, maybe, in that I want to see them put in hands that will take care of them properly, take them places I can't, guide them further into flourishing greatness.
Written By Sparte
June 3, 2019, 8:21 a.m.(3/19/1011 AR)
Sometimes the results of research are discouraging. I hope to find something useful to the safety of the present, but I only learn the sins of the past in greater detail. With too few hints of how to prevent them occurring again.
Yet once in a while we gain something more, something meaningful. This was not one of those times, yet, I will try again. Thank you to those who assisted me on my recent research.
Yet once in a while we gain something more, something meaningful. This was not one of those times, yet, I will try again. Thank you to those who assisted me on my recent research.
Written By Thena
June 3, 2019, 7:21 a.m.(3/19/1011 AR)
It’s always interesting, in times of trouble, to see who stays and who runs away.
Written By Ajax
June 2, 2019, 11:58 p.m.(3/19/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Vernan
This man right here? It was a fun time meeting you. I wonder what you'll end up doing?
Written By Eddard
June 2, 2019, 11:48 p.m.(3/19/1011 AR)
I am home. Baron Norwood can sigh a breath of relief at not needing to figure out the difference between a frockcoat and a waistcoat. For now.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.