Written By Amari
Jan. 22, 2024, 7:56 p.m.(8/9/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
Since I'm writing sad journals today, and because when this happened I couldn't write anything about it without bursting into tears; this is how my dear Uncle Norwood, the first Baron Clement of Duskshire, died in the defence of House Redire, and of the Oathlands. Let his sacrifice be remembered.
Baron Norwood had set out to stop a great foe, one who had been terrorizing the West for years. Together we spent many fruitless days hunting down the elusive Knight of the Breach and his Warhammer of Woe. It seemed no matter what, we were forever a step behind, a day too late, or had zigged when we ought to have zagged. You can imagine our frustration. He seemed to almost kill and destroy solely to taunt us as we pursued him in vain. Entire villages were massacred and left piles of rubble in his wake.
That changed when he discovered that House Redire was more than simply an old forgotten name being taken up by a foolish lady with delusions. It was not an empty thing with nothing behind it but the memories of those sylv'alfar he'd slaughtered during the War. No, they lived again. They woke in Reveillon and he turned toward it at once. There was no attempt made to conceal his path. His bloody intent was clear.
When we learned his destination, together we rushed to intercept him there. House Clement summoned their army from Duskshire, I rallied my own brave few just as a foul legion of every evil creature imaginable came pouring out of the woods. It was a vast army of robed cultists carrying inverted Gloria banners, centipede legged monstrosities, Knights of the Swarm, dark mages and their demonic servants.
Together we fought an impossible losing battle against all odds.
When all seemed lost despite all our courage and resolve, Norwood saved us. He put himself bodily between the Knight of the Breach and the walls of the bastion. Our foe revealed his true self then; it was Grimthog Two-Head. It was the same Duke of Grayhill that brought ruin and death to House Redire five hundred years before. Undeterred, Norwood fought on. Even after Queensguard was shattered, he fought on. Even after he was pinned to the ground by Grimthog's hammer and mortally wounded, he fought on.
With the last of his strength, Norwood broke Sunderfall, the Hammer of Woe. Every last abomination was destroyed with it, including the worst of them; Grimthog. The Tyrant's slaves all collapsed and fell to dust in an instant. Norwood had saved us all.
Norwood was too humble to ever have bragged of this, if he'd lived. He wouldn't have wanted to be lauded for simply doing his duty. I chose to record it now so that future generations may know some of the story. And so knowing, should they ever visit Reveillon, and wonder over the rough slab of Artshall granite stood on its end in the field before the castle walls, they would pause there, where he so valiantly fell, and think of Norwood.
He was a true friend.
Baron Norwood had set out to stop a great foe, one who had been terrorizing the West for years. Together we spent many fruitless days hunting down the elusive Knight of the Breach and his Warhammer of Woe. It seemed no matter what, we were forever a step behind, a day too late, or had zigged when we ought to have zagged. You can imagine our frustration. He seemed to almost kill and destroy solely to taunt us as we pursued him in vain. Entire villages were massacred and left piles of rubble in his wake.
That changed when he discovered that House Redire was more than simply an old forgotten name being taken up by a foolish lady with delusions. It was not an empty thing with nothing behind it but the memories of those sylv'alfar he'd slaughtered during the War. No, they lived again. They woke in Reveillon and he turned toward it at once. There was no attempt made to conceal his path. His bloody intent was clear.
When we learned his destination, together we rushed to intercept him there. House Clement summoned their army from Duskshire, I rallied my own brave few just as a foul legion of every evil creature imaginable came pouring out of the woods. It was a vast army of robed cultists carrying inverted Gloria banners, centipede legged monstrosities, Knights of the Swarm, dark mages and their demonic servants.
Together we fought an impossible losing battle against all odds.
When all seemed lost despite all our courage and resolve, Norwood saved us. He put himself bodily between the Knight of the Breach and the walls of the bastion. Our foe revealed his true self then; it was Grimthog Two-Head. It was the same Duke of Grayhill that brought ruin and death to House Redire five hundred years before. Undeterred, Norwood fought on. Even after Queensguard was shattered, he fought on. Even after he was pinned to the ground by Grimthog's hammer and mortally wounded, he fought on.
With the last of his strength, Norwood broke Sunderfall, the Hammer of Woe. Every last abomination was destroyed with it, including the worst of them; Grimthog. The Tyrant's slaves all collapsed and fell to dust in an instant. Norwood had saved us all.
Norwood was too humble to ever have bragged of this, if he'd lived. He wouldn't have wanted to be lauded for simply doing his duty. I chose to record it now so that future generations may know some of the story. And so knowing, should they ever visit Reveillon, and wonder over the rough slab of Artshall granite stood on its end in the field before the castle walls, they would pause there, where he so valiantly fell, and think of Norwood.
He was a true friend.
Written By Amari
April 28, 2021, 8:53 p.m.(5/17/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
Of course he's not old.
Written By Cristoph
April 17, 2021, 6:24 p.m.(4/23/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
After years of berating me to take my riding lessons more seriously, I've spent the few months riding with Baron Norwood and reading the many manuals he's shoved underneath my door. I may not have unhorsed him this time, but that I got close enough in the lists to even compete against him is honor enough.
Written By Cristoph
March 7, 2021, 6:43 p.m.(1/25/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
I think you'd be very satisfied with the chariot race today. Not only did I not fall out of the chariot and get trampled by the horses, I also won. Which was surprising because the competition was quite steep.
Written By Cristoph
Jan. 24, 2021, 8:53 a.m.(10/22/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
My dear friend, Lady Amari has written about my recent attempt to save Baron Norwood from a soggy fate in the cold Oathlands currents.
Once upon a time, I was bleeding out on the field of battle, near death. The good baron rode his horse straight across the field to pluck me from that fate, unfortunately I was too heavy and he fell off of the horse.
There's a certain 'what goes around, comes around' to this scenario. I attempted to pluck Baron Norwood from the water! Only to be pulled down as well. Really, this is probably symbolic of our entire relationship. Just endlessly tripping over one another while trying to commit good acts.
Once upon a time, I was bleeding out on the field of battle, near death. The good baron rode his horse straight across the field to pluck me from that fate, unfortunately I was too heavy and he fell off of the horse.
There's a certain 'what goes around, comes around' to this scenario. I attempted to pluck Baron Norwood from the water! Only to be pulled down as well. Really, this is probably symbolic of our entire relationship. Just endlessly tripping over one another while trying to commit good acts.
Written By Esme
May 15, 2020, 9:27 p.m.(4/18/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
SQUEEEEEEEE!!
It's a mini horse... in a sweater...
You are the best Nor that ever Wooded, or the best Wood that ever Norred.
You are the best of so many things I'm not supposed to say because then your face turns red and you walk away and I get ponies, but really like the best of the best. I mean really best.
Um. I mean. Thank you
It's a mini horse... in a sweater...
You are the best Nor that ever Wooded, or the best Wood that ever Norred.
You are the best of so many things I'm not supposed to say because then your face turns red and you walk away and I get ponies, but really like the best of the best. I mean really best.
Um. I mean. Thank you
Written By Iseulet
April 4, 2020, 10:52 a.m.(1/19/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
Who is this mysterious Rose that's captured the Baron's heart?
My heart skips a beat in anticipation.
My heart skips a beat in anticipation.
Written By Esme
March 29, 2020, 12:15 a.m.(1/6/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
Baron,
Thank you as well. I put out a call for warm clothing and not only did you send me something, you didn't even charge. Better yet, it is that new ironwool fabric. Thank you for the rose in the midst of winter ironwool lined cape. I am already wearing it around Arx.
Thank you as well. I put out a call for warm clothing and not only did you send me something, you didn't even charge. Better yet, it is that new ironwool fabric. Thank you for the rose in the midst of winter ironwool lined cape. I am already wearing it around Arx.
Written By Amari
March 24, 2020, 10:49 p.m.(12/26/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
I thought it would be best to formally record an apology to you, Uncle Norwood, for placing in your garden, a large figure of stick and twine without your permission or knowledge. I'm sorry. I meant well and it was made in earnest, but I am sorry for the distress it caused when you finally noticed it there bringing blessings to your beets and other vegetables. I'm also very sorry for laughing so much at the time. I take full responsibility.
I will, of course, help see a shrine built and properly dedicated to Petrichor in its place.
I will, of course, help see a shrine built and properly dedicated to Petrichor in its place.
Written By Kedehern
Feb. 2, 2020, 9:29 a.m.(9.13760333994709/8.705787037037037/1012.6781336116622 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
I bet he'll be an amazing grandpa, won't he?
Written By Baelor
Feb. 2, 2020, 3:05 a.m.(9.118587136243386/7.64087962962963/1012.6765489280203 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
I saw a friend that I have not spoken to in many years recently. Travels upon the road keep me from many things. It is not often one finds out a friend has become your brother by marriage.
Perhaps might settle with my sister of her house.
Perhaps might settle with my sister of her house.
Written By Esme
Jan. 28, 2020, 9:41 p.m.(8.816930803571427/25.748125/1012.6514109002976 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
My duel is coming up soon. I have so many mixed feelings to this. There is a sense of excitement to see how the Champions fight. I am sure that the Gods will decide and the truth will prevail. However, I am also a little adrift. I have never thought I would be challenged. It is something that I am always interested to hear about, but I did not think my personal name would meet the challenge. My first inclination is to apologize, even for a perceived slight. It is just in my nature. Then I was told that this is more of honor in Oathlands and to let it play out. It is so hard to go against one's nature, but I am certain that everyone shall find closure in this issue. I do wish both the Champions well and even that the challenger feels that he's been answered on his perceived slight.
Do love one another though, any that read this. Especially in times as these.
Do love one another though, any that read this. Especially in times as these.
Written By Amari
Jan. 6, 2020, 6:38 p.m.(7/7/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
Thank you, Norwood. Your instruction was kind, patient and effective. It's been an honor to serve as your squire.
Written By Jael
Oct. 6, 2019, 5:10 p.m.(12/19/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
Uncle, one day I will get you to sit up in a tree for a spell and you will understand.
Written By Amari
Sept. 22, 2019, 11:26 a.m.(11/18/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
Thank you for your kind words and patient tutelage, Baron Norwood. I hope to never make you regret the confidence you've placed in me. The wisdom and skills you've imparted I shall use well, with care, courage and honor.
Written By Cristoph
Aug. 4, 2019, 7:47 p.m.(8/4/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
Note to self: help Norwood build his own paddock and stables so that he can make Lord Eddard work inside of them.
Written By Cristoph
July 7, 2019, 11:15 a.m.(6/3/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
I'm deeply saddened to hear of Goodman Jethro Clement's passing. I remember him when I was a child at Artshall, he always seemed to be around. He looked old even then. And to think we were all just recently discussing him.
Written By Eddard
June 12, 2019, 6:22 p.m.(4/10/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
The Clement family. I have decided that their words, tales and steadfast nature should be celebrated and enshrined for later generations. It falls to me, one who strays far from the tree to write down their advice. From my great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather on the Clement main line.
"Do not let a woman who decorates her buttocks deceive you. By wily coaxing, for she is after your granary."
The fashion of olden times perplexes me.
"Do not let a woman who decorates her buttocks deceive you. By wily coaxing, for she is after your granary."
The fashion of olden times perplexes me.
Written By Cristoph
June 9, 2019, 11:04 p.m.(4/4/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
Why can't you just purchase horses like the rest of us?
Written By Eddard
May 31, 2019, 7:35 p.m.(3/14/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Norwood
Last Will and Testament of Eddard Clement
If I fall from this world and leave it behind, know that I probably died doing what I loved. Or stabbed. Probably the latter. I hope not to die, but circumstances seemed to shift around me and beneath my feet. My coffin is purchased and prepared already, remove all the clothes from it first. They are the clothes that are dead to me, feel free to burn them in my pyre.
First, and foremost. Baron Norwood Clement is charged with the care and consoling of Tycho, the Reindeer.
Give my cutlass to the next best fanciful idiot with red hair and an incurable lack of sense.
Give my waistcoats to the community gardens scarecrows and my frockcoats to the bearers of my coffins. Do not expect my uncle to be able to tell the difference.
For my dresses, they must go to the leggiest, sultriest blonde in the Oathlands ward. Baron Norwood Clement must be the one doing the looking and judging. I expect a written white journal as to why she was chosen.
I expect everyone in attendance of my funeral to wear flannel. Even the King. Especially the king.
I would like a Redrain throat yodeler to 'sing' as I am laid to rest.
All compliments must be spoken in the form of insults. For example, "He was the human embodiment of a puff pastry. Tasty for a moment but without substance or sustenance." Also, "He used his wit like a bull uses its horns, he slammed them into everything to see if it would fall over."
I have nothing to give to whom I may love in particular, because I never hesitated to give when I was alive.
If I fall from this world and leave it behind, know that I probably died doing what I loved. Or stabbed. Probably the latter. I hope not to die, but circumstances seemed to shift around me and beneath my feet. My coffin is purchased and prepared already, remove all the clothes from it first. They are the clothes that are dead to me, feel free to burn them in my pyre.
First, and foremost. Baron Norwood Clement is charged with the care and consoling of Tycho, the Reindeer.
Give my cutlass to the next best fanciful idiot with red hair and an incurable lack of sense.
Give my waistcoats to the community gardens scarecrows and my frockcoats to the bearers of my coffins. Do not expect my uncle to be able to tell the difference.
For my dresses, they must go to the leggiest, sultriest blonde in the Oathlands ward. Baron Norwood Clement must be the one doing the looking and judging. I expect a written white journal as to why she was chosen.
I expect everyone in attendance of my funeral to wear flannel. Even the King. Especially the king.
I would like a Redrain throat yodeler to 'sing' as I am laid to rest.
All compliments must be spoken in the form of insults. For example, "He was the human embodiment of a puff pastry. Tasty for a moment but without substance or sustenance." Also, "He used his wit like a bull uses its horns, he slammed them into everything to see if it would fall over."
I have nothing to give to whom I may love in particular, because I never hesitated to give when I was alive.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.