Written By Derovai
Nov. 15, 2020, 9:53 p.m.(5/22/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
Given recent events, I had a glance back over my journals throughout the years, looking to see if I'd ever written anything specifically about Dominus Orazio. What I found was a limerick so painful that I'll never be rid of the scar, so I can only hope that the Dominus (then-Legate) never had the ill fortune to read it. I'm not sure why he'd have made the effort, but even so, my profuse, too late, and never-ending apologies to you, Dominus.
From all accounts, you were a fine, decent man. I'll say this; it's never a good position to be in, to be the one responsible for the murder of a fine, decent man, particularly one with so many dedicated friends and acquaintances, many of them being fine, decent, and well armed. Perhaps your murderers shouldn't have claimed responsibility quite so loudly. It suggests that not only are they worthless cowards, but also deeply, deeply stupid.
Rest well. Your murderers certainly won't.
From all accounts, you were a fine, decent man. I'll say this; it's never a good position to be in, to be the one responsible for the murder of a fine, decent man, particularly one with so many dedicated friends and acquaintances, many of them being fine, decent, and well armed. Perhaps your murderers shouldn't have claimed responsibility quite so loudly. It suggests that not only are they worthless cowards, but also deeply, deeply stupid.
Rest well. Your murderers certainly won't.
Written By Khanne
Nov. 15, 2020, 9:40 p.m.(5/22/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
I have lost many people in my life, lost quite a few that I was exceptionally close to. But this one... this loss is hitting me a bit differently. Some may not have understood the sort of fellowship I was blessed to share with Dominus Orazio, back when our lives were just a little less hectic.
Even now, in trying to write this small note to express what I am feeling, I hit a wall and stumble, at a loss for words.
Our lives were vastly different, of course... but I believe that our respect for one another was mutual... and, if I am at all honest, some of the trials and tribulations of the paths we walked were... astonishingly parallel.
Of course, our lives got busier and busier and it really prevented us from getting together, but we did talk about doing so...
Dominus Orazio, I know you are in good hands returning to the wheel... but you will be missed here. I will be drinking a bit of whiskey in your memory tonight.
Even now, in trying to write this small note to express what I am feeling, I hit a wall and stumble, at a loss for words.
Our lives were vastly different, of course... but I believe that our respect for one another was mutual... and, if I am at all honest, some of the trials and tribulations of the paths we walked were... astonishingly parallel.
Of course, our lives got busier and busier and it really prevented us from getting together, but we did talk about doing so...
Dominus Orazio, I know you are in good hands returning to the wheel... but you will be missed here. I will be drinking a bit of whiskey in your memory tonight.
Written By Brigida
Nov. 15, 2020, 6:36 p.m.(5/22/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
I would be surprised if anyone knew Orazio as long as I have.
I may not have always seen eye to eye with him or his decisions both before and after becoming Dominus but I respected him. I've seen too many of my contemporaries fall over the years and Orazio's return to the Wheel simply makes my life a little emptier.
He was not the best of men, far from it. But he was a good man nonetheless and we are all poorer for his absence.
Don't worry old friend.
I will have no qualms with doing what needs to be done.
My the Gods grant you some rest at least for now.
I may not have always seen eye to eye with him or his decisions both before and after becoming Dominus but I respected him. I've seen too many of my contemporaries fall over the years and Orazio's return to the Wheel simply makes my life a little emptier.
He was not the best of men, far from it. But he was a good man nonetheless and we are all poorer for his absence.
Don't worry old friend.
I will have no qualms with doing what needs to be done.
My the Gods grant you some rest at least for now.
Written By Sapphira
Nov. 14, 2020, 4:25 p.m.(5/20/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
I never knew the Dominus, but I hear and see what is spoken and written about him. I wish I had known him. One so great of heart has left behind a song that not even an assassin's blade can silence--a song that so many of you already sing in your writings. It is up to us all now to sing for one who can no longer.
Perhaps we, then, are part of the legacy he leaves behind. Let us all do his memory honor.
Perhaps we, then, are part of the legacy he leaves behind. Let us all do his memory honor.
Written By Aleksei
Nov. 13, 2020, 11 a.m.(5/17/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
The Orazio I knew.
I met him in the Archive of Vellichor. He was very smart and having a very smart sort of conversation. I asked him if he knew a lot about the gods. It was a stupid question. He looked at me with this sort of expression of amused patience that I would become very, _very_ familiar with.
(He still didn't know much about the Lost Gods. None of us did, back then.)
I think I also referred to Aldwin as "that Archscholar guy" or something like that, and he looked at me with a look of deep, long-suffering pain. It was also an expression I'd become intense familiar with.
He lived through a plague. He watched his family die. His parents and siblings die. He watched them die slowly and painfully, and I can tell you that, decades later, he could still remember every detail.
He didn't lose everyone to that plague, but he lost them later. I don't think that I've ever known anyone who lost so much family he loved.
He was patient with me. He was frustrated and exasperated with me. He liked me a great deal and thought I was smart and passionate and funny. He would scold me when I called myself an idiot.
His opinion meant everything to me.
The Church meant everything to him. Not just the gods, not just the virtues themselves, but the Church. He'd lost one family, and so he gave everything to the family he found. He was viciously, ruthlessly smart -- he was Lycene -- but he wasn't very personally ambitious, wherever he ended up. His ambition was for the Church. It was to help people. He understood the Faith's place as an institution in the Compact better than anyone I knew. He saw the scope of things.
He believed in duty. He believed in his position as a service. Priests aren't barred from relationships, so long as they don't get in the way of their service and dedication to the Church, but his love was duty and the Faith. I think there was only one person he felt really softly for in that way in all the years I knew him. He didn't have dalliances with disciples, or people working under his authority, or anyone really who looked to him as a mentor. He had too much respect for that duty and responsibility. For the weight of his authority. It left very few people.
(Me? I was a "fine young man." Anyone would be "flattered by my attentions." He had a terrible habit of ruffling my hair in a way that made me want to die inside. I wouldn't have told him to stop doing it for the world.)
I remember him sitting on the floor of his room after too much whiskey mourning the loss of someone he couldn't save. I remember him telling me the worst of him that night. I remember something fitting together in my heart like a puzzle piece. I didn't realize it until later, what it was.
I remember the Vigil outside the Rectory. I remember sleeping on the steps, the daily terror that the whole mess would turn into a riot. That he'd be cut down, if I weren't right there to save him.
(I was right. It just didn't come until years later.)
He was so funny. Most people didn't know. He was in such deep need for friends who saw just Orazio, because he couldn't let his duty falter anywhere else. He got stuck with me. I did my best to make him laugh as much as I could. I'm pretty funny, too.
("No," he told me. "Holy whiskey. Holy shit we put in the fields, with Petrichor's blessing.")
(Also!! The terrible story he told me about two of his fellow soldiers during his soldiering days and how people keep _occupied_ while on _boring watch duty_ and what happens when one of them gets _startled_ with his _mouth full_ and oh my gods I had a full body cringe.)
He liked romantic poetry. He was an excellent dancer.
He found my instinct to trust people both deeply frustrating and somehow strangely admirable. I was good at some things he wasn't. I wasn't good at any of the things he was best at, though.
He never doubted my intentions. He sometimes doubted my self-awareness, but he was right to.
I saw him. I think he needed to be seen.
I remember the look on his face during my vows, when he dropped in a _brand new set of vows_ for the Lost Gods, and he didn't _warn me_, and I cursed in the Cathedral. Honestly, I'm pretty sure he was about to kill me. (It was his own fault! He knew how nervous I was!)
I took something from him, when I took my vows. He was happy, and he deeply believed in me, but when he ended up in charge of me, he lost something. He couldn't let himself be the same sort of friend after that. He had his duty.
(I still tried. I still did my best.)
I wasn't very good at a lot of my priest duties when I started. He sent me to etiquette classes. He didn't throw me out when I showed up in his chambers in the middle of the night to freak out about messing everything up.
(He was very, _very patient with me.)
He wrote me a letter once and I framed it. "Aleksei. Aleksei. No. You're a member of the Faith, now, and whatever you're thinking about doing, it will likely not enhance the dignity of the Faith."
(I don't even remember what I was talking about doing. Something about taking my clothes off for something, I think.)
It was one of my most treasured possessions for a long time. I sacrificed it for something very important. I wish I still had it.
I gave my confession to him once. Watched him record it in my Black Reflection. In the end, I made him write, "I would like to add that Father Orazio, Legate of Concepts, Shield of the Faith, is one of the greatest assets the Faith has. And my best friend. That's all." I wanted him to have to say something nice about himself. The look he gave me was priceless. But he wrote it. It was his duty.
The worst thing I ever did to him, that hurt him more than anything else, was leave the Faith. I broke something between us, then. Not fully healing that, not being able to truly find my way back to our friendship as it was, will remain one of the greatest regrets of my entire life.
I've loved him every day of my life for almost a decade. Sometimes, right now, I almost wish that death changed that. Because he took part of me with him.
But mostly I don't. I think he needed someone in his life who loved him like that. He didn't think he deserved it.
But he did.
I met him in the Archive of Vellichor. He was very smart and having a very smart sort of conversation. I asked him if he knew a lot about the gods. It was a stupid question. He looked at me with this sort of expression of amused patience that I would become very, _very_ familiar with.
(He still didn't know much about the Lost Gods. None of us did, back then.)
I think I also referred to Aldwin as "that Archscholar guy" or something like that, and he looked at me with a look of deep, long-suffering pain. It was also an expression I'd become intense familiar with.
He lived through a plague. He watched his family die. His parents and siblings die. He watched them die slowly and painfully, and I can tell you that, decades later, he could still remember every detail.
He didn't lose everyone to that plague, but he lost them later. I don't think that I've ever known anyone who lost so much family he loved.
He was patient with me. He was frustrated and exasperated with me. He liked me a great deal and thought I was smart and passionate and funny. He would scold me when I called myself an idiot.
His opinion meant everything to me.
The Church meant everything to him. Not just the gods, not just the virtues themselves, but the Church. He'd lost one family, and so he gave everything to the family he found. He was viciously, ruthlessly smart -- he was Lycene -- but he wasn't very personally ambitious, wherever he ended up. His ambition was for the Church. It was to help people. He understood the Faith's place as an institution in the Compact better than anyone I knew. He saw the scope of things.
He believed in duty. He believed in his position as a service. Priests aren't barred from relationships, so long as they don't get in the way of their service and dedication to the Church, but his love was duty and the Faith. I think there was only one person he felt really softly for in that way in all the years I knew him. He didn't have dalliances with disciples, or people working under his authority, or anyone really who looked to him as a mentor. He had too much respect for that duty and responsibility. For the weight of his authority. It left very few people.
(Me? I was a "fine young man." Anyone would be "flattered by my attentions." He had a terrible habit of ruffling my hair in a way that made me want to die inside. I wouldn't have told him to stop doing it for the world.)
I remember him sitting on the floor of his room after too much whiskey mourning the loss of someone he couldn't save. I remember him telling me the worst of him that night. I remember something fitting together in my heart like a puzzle piece. I didn't realize it until later, what it was.
I remember the Vigil outside the Rectory. I remember sleeping on the steps, the daily terror that the whole mess would turn into a riot. That he'd be cut down, if I weren't right there to save him.
(I was right. It just didn't come until years later.)
He was so funny. Most people didn't know. He was in such deep need for friends who saw just Orazio, because he couldn't let his duty falter anywhere else. He got stuck with me. I did my best to make him laugh as much as I could. I'm pretty funny, too.
("No," he told me. "Holy whiskey. Holy shit we put in the fields, with Petrichor's blessing.")
(Also!! The terrible story he told me about two of his fellow soldiers during his soldiering days and how people keep _occupied_ while on _boring watch duty_ and what happens when one of them gets _startled_ with his _mouth full_ and oh my gods I had a full body cringe.)
He liked romantic poetry. He was an excellent dancer.
He found my instinct to trust people both deeply frustrating and somehow strangely admirable. I was good at some things he wasn't. I wasn't good at any of the things he was best at, though.
He never doubted my intentions. He sometimes doubted my self-awareness, but he was right to.
I saw him. I think he needed to be seen.
I remember the look on his face during my vows, when he dropped in a _brand new set of vows_ for the Lost Gods, and he didn't _warn me_, and I cursed in the Cathedral. Honestly, I'm pretty sure he was about to kill me. (It was his own fault! He knew how nervous I was!)
I took something from him, when I took my vows. He was happy, and he deeply believed in me, but when he ended up in charge of me, he lost something. He couldn't let himself be the same sort of friend after that. He had his duty.
(I still tried. I still did my best.)
I wasn't very good at a lot of my priest duties when I started. He sent me to etiquette classes. He didn't throw me out when I showed up in his chambers in the middle of the night to freak out about messing everything up.
(He was very, _very patient with me.)
He wrote me a letter once and I framed it. "Aleksei. Aleksei. No. You're a member of the Faith, now, and whatever you're thinking about doing, it will likely not enhance the dignity of the Faith."
(I don't even remember what I was talking about doing. Something about taking my clothes off for something, I think.)
It was one of my most treasured possessions for a long time. I sacrificed it for something very important. I wish I still had it.
I gave my confession to him once. Watched him record it in my Black Reflection. In the end, I made him write, "I would like to add that Father Orazio, Legate of Concepts, Shield of the Faith, is one of the greatest assets the Faith has. And my best friend. That's all." I wanted him to have to say something nice about himself. The look he gave me was priceless. But he wrote it. It was his duty.
The worst thing I ever did to him, that hurt him more than anything else, was leave the Faith. I broke something between us, then. Not fully healing that, not being able to truly find my way back to our friendship as it was, will remain one of the greatest regrets of my entire life.
I've loved him every day of my life for almost a decade. Sometimes, right now, I almost wish that death changed that. Because he took part of me with him.
But mostly I don't. I think he needed someone in his life who loved him like that. He didn't think he deserved it.
But he did.
Written By Victus
Nov. 13, 2020, 1:32 a.m.(5/17/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
There is not much for me to say. He and I did not enjoy each other’s company so much as tolerate it.
He deserved better than this. He deserved to live long and find a peaceful end.
May those behind this assassination die swiftly. It is more than they deserve.
He deserved better than this. He deserved to live long and find a peaceful end.
May those behind this assassination die swiftly. It is more than they deserve.
Written By Gwenna
Nov. 12, 2020, 7:16 p.m.(5/16/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
When I was new to the city of Arx, and had been a Voice for the House only a few months, I had requested to speak with then-Father Orazio, Legate of Concepts, Shield of the Faith, about a marriage contract. He graciously invited me to brunch with him to review the matter. The contract was the first one I had ever helped oversee, and while the language is often rather predictable with such, I hoped for his wisdom, insight, and hopeful blessing. The betrothal was a love-match, and I suspect to this day that His Grace sent me into the mouth of the proverbial lion's den knowing full well how /that/ would go over. Which, as I half-expected, it did not.
What was wonderful was that we discussed it and while we both had different views, he didn't make me feel like the stance was patently wrong or misguided. He was someone that I believe often told people not what they wanted to hear, but what they needed to hear. I left that meeting feeling like he felt I had promise, and if I kept growing and learning, I might have a bright future in Arx. I never told him how hopeful that made me feel that day, and how it eased my worries about being a good Voice for House Redrain a little bit. We never really crossed paths again after that, beyond Assemblies or other meetings of the sort, and I always meant to reach out again to speak - but time has a way of slipping through our fingers when we think we have all the time in the world.
I regret very much that I never thanked him for his kindness and conversation, or told him how it impacted me. I will hold fast to the memory of a quiet morning and lively discussion, and of tea and brunch with the man who surely changed no few lives during his own.
I mourn his loss, and I mourn for those who were lost fighting against these terrible attacks against Faith, House, and Compact. Though, too, I am grateful that many, my dear friends among them, escaped with their lives.
What was wonderful was that we discussed it and while we both had different views, he didn't make me feel like the stance was patently wrong or misguided. He was someone that I believe often told people not what they wanted to hear, but what they needed to hear. I left that meeting feeling like he felt I had promise, and if I kept growing and learning, I might have a bright future in Arx. I never told him how hopeful that made me feel that day, and how it eased my worries about being a good Voice for House Redrain a little bit. We never really crossed paths again after that, beyond Assemblies or other meetings of the sort, and I always meant to reach out again to speak - but time has a way of slipping through our fingers when we think we have all the time in the world.
I regret very much that I never thanked him for his kindness and conversation, or told him how it impacted me. I will hold fast to the memory of a quiet morning and lively discussion, and of tea and brunch with the man who surely changed no few lives during his own.
I mourn his loss, and I mourn for those who were lost fighting against these terrible attacks against Faith, House, and Compact. Though, too, I am grateful that many, my dear friends among them, escaped with their lives.
Written By Mirari
Nov. 12, 2020, 4:38 p.m.(5/16/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
I can't say I ever knew you all that way. Despite my once serving Kima Saik. All I remember, honestly, is that time you were speaking with Nekarris near the time of Silence. I remember the way you coolly shut down Costas-- a feat few were able to do.
I'm sorry I never really got to know you.
I'm sorry I never really got to know you.
Written By Raymesin
Nov. 12, 2020, 4:32 p.m.(5/16/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
I never knew Dominus Orazio, Scholar. Never met him, so far as I know. But I know what sort of man he was by those who mourn.
Written By Belladonna
Nov. 12, 2020, 4:24 p.m.(5/16/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
A great individual leaves behind a lasting legacy that will be remembered for as long as the Compact stands, with none capable of appropriately filling the void left by his grace. Maybe that is what greatness means: to punch a hole in the world you leave, one that makes successors feel lacking by comparison and days seem just a little darker with your absence. The Dominus succeeded in both.
Written By Eirene
Nov. 12, 2020, 9:50 a.m.(5/15/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
I've known Dominus Orazio longer than any of you. He and I served together in the Southport military when we were younger. The stories I could tell. But I won't. They serve no purpose other than to bring a smile to the memory of those who were there.
Mostly I remember even then he was a man of faith and principle. Devoted to duty, whether it was to the Gods or our Duchess.
Gods, I'm crying. Heh. I've lost so many old friends that his loss really stings. Especially since I had thought he would pass peacefully in his bed with a holy book half-read on his lap and a cup of tea on a table.
He approached me years ago to help him investigate the sighting of something horrific near Sanctum. It was what you would call a horedling, a demonic flesh construct created by the sacrifice of the Legate of the Shield and her Knights of Solace. It was the first known sighting in centuries. The beast was destroyed at the cost of many fine knights but we watched it die.
Even before he became Dominus he was fighting to push back the dark Reflections of the Gods he loved so dear.
His duties eventually consumed his time but he still found a few hours to occasionally sit with an old friend (me) and share the wisdom he had learned. All of my knowledge of the Gods came from him.
And you know you've made a mark on the world when your enemies mourn your loss and call for vengeance and justice.
May the Wheel spin Razi into another incarnation as noble as this one. And fuck you, Helianthus. Your end is coming.
Mostly I remember even then he was a man of faith and principle. Devoted to duty, whether it was to the Gods or our Duchess.
Gods, I'm crying. Heh. I've lost so many old friends that his loss really stings. Especially since I had thought he would pass peacefully in his bed with a holy book half-read on his lap and a cup of tea on a table.
He approached me years ago to help him investigate the sighting of something horrific near Sanctum. It was what you would call a horedling, a demonic flesh construct created by the sacrifice of the Legate of the Shield and her Knights of Solace. It was the first known sighting in centuries. The beast was destroyed at the cost of many fine knights but we watched it die.
Even before he became Dominus he was fighting to push back the dark Reflections of the Gods he loved so dear.
His duties eventually consumed his time but he still found a few hours to occasionally sit with an old friend (me) and share the wisdom he had learned. All of my knowledge of the Gods came from him.
And you know you've made a mark on the world when your enemies mourn your loss and call for vengeance and justice.
May the Wheel spin Razi into another incarnation as noble as this one. And fuck you, Helianthus. Your end is coming.
Written By Damiana
Nov. 11, 2020, 9:22 p.m.(5/14/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
The Faith is not one man, and yet even if it was it would be still as strong as it is now. Within each of us is a font of strength rarely drawn from and yet how often we’ve felt powerless when faced with insurmountable challenge?
While traitors may have with their dishonorable blades struck down the closest to the gods, where one great man has fallen may thousands rise up. We, children of the Faith, are given signs. Evil lurks so close by, our enemies near. Will we shake in fear? Or rise as the sun after an evening storm, bright and full of hope?
So we should pray, and pray like we haven’t before. For ourselves and for each other. And no more is this a time for idleness or empty words, may Limerance embolden us with our oaths and promises for we live in a time where action is required.
Slavers desire to shackle. Tyrants desire to step on our necks. But we are the children of the faith and our world is crying out in need.
So pray, sing, be active in the church as our enemies are being active with their sinful darkness. May our lights shine and drive out that darkness.
Shine bright, Dominus Orazio.
While traitors may have with their dishonorable blades struck down the closest to the gods, where one great man has fallen may thousands rise up. We, children of the Faith, are given signs. Evil lurks so close by, our enemies near. Will we shake in fear? Or rise as the sun after an evening storm, bright and full of hope?
So we should pray, and pray like we haven’t before. For ourselves and for each other. And no more is this a time for idleness or empty words, may Limerance embolden us with our oaths and promises for we live in a time where action is required.
Slavers desire to shackle. Tyrants desire to step on our necks. But we are the children of the faith and our world is crying out in need.
So pray, sing, be active in the church as our enemies are being active with their sinful darkness. May our lights shine and drive out that darkness.
Shine bright, Dominus Orazio.
Written By Thea
Nov. 11, 2020, 9:15 p.m.(5/14/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
Sometimes there are no words...And this is that time. I don't have any. Just that--I will miss our talks. It's all I can write right now...coherently anyway.
Written By Eirene
Oct. 8, 2020, 10:02 a.m.(3/1/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
I was thinking about Saedrus the other day and how much I miss that punk. Yes, I said punk. I knew him before you, so I can say it. I was proud of how soft he was able to make himself, which is a really f'd up compliment coming from me.
That got me thinking about Eos. And Kima. And all my other old friends from Southport I knew in my youth. I think Razi (Yes, Orazio, the Dominus) is the only one still kicking it around Arx. And we, for obvious reasons, don't spend much social time together. Yes, scholar, don't look so surprised. I am, or was, friends with the Dominus. Luxury of knowing him in his youth.
Last time he was free enough to spare me a few hours he went over the pantheon for me like I was seven and needed to learn them all over again. A refresher course, taught by the highest in the land. That's the kind of person he is, he doesn't care who you are or what you've done; he helps with that spiritual need.
That got me thinking about Eos. And Kima. And all my other old friends from Southport I knew in my youth. I think Razi (Yes, Orazio, the Dominus) is the only one still kicking it around Arx. And we, for obvious reasons, don't spend much social time together. Yes, scholar, don't look so surprised. I am, or was, friends with the Dominus. Luxury of knowing him in his youth.
Last time he was free enough to spare me a few hours he went over the pantheon for me like I was seven and needed to learn them all over again. A refresher course, taught by the highest in the land. That's the kind of person he is, he doesn't care who you are or what you've done; he helps with that spiritual need.
Written By Elisha
Nov. 16, 2019, 9:41 p.m.(3/17/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
I am a charlatan;
I know nothing and I am worth less.
I hereby disclaim poetry.
I deny fables, histories, and lullabies.
I beg forgiveness of all the gods save Tehom.
I beg forgiveness, too, of my beloved friends,
this soaring, heartbroken family
bound by tears and dreams,
and I am eager to learn
which subjects exist
at such a distance from the divine
that I may yet write upon them.
I know nothing and I am worth less.
I hereby disclaim poetry.
I deny fables, histories, and lullabies.
I beg forgiveness of all the gods save Tehom.
I beg forgiveness, too, of my beloved friends,
this soaring, heartbroken family
bound by tears and dreams,
and I am eager to learn
which subjects exist
at such a distance from the divine
that I may yet write upon them.
Written By Elisha
Sept. 14, 2019, 8:46 p.m.(11/2/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
I am sorry;
I repent and beg forgiveness
from the Faith
for threats against their holy places,
and to the gods
for claiming a position
I was not granted.
* * *
My penance is to admit the truest thing I know:
There is a Gardener in the Lowest Archives,
who cultivates knowledge
and genius, scholarship and history.
In the rich black humus of the deepest
journals, the Gardener plants seeds of wisdom
which take root and send forth pale stalks of memory
(the hollow shafts of quills)
and inspiration and chronology,
and from these an orchard grows,
the air heady with the scent of shared knowledge,
the stacks crowded with barrels of facts pressed
into the cider that is poured into the tarnished mugs of the
storytellers and scholars who speak
and chronicle the history of the ages.
Nothing is hidden in the orchard.
Nothing is barren; nothing blighted; nothing burned; nothing hoarded.
This is the Garden of Vellichor; a god's hands till this soil
and harvest this fruit.
Remembrance sweeps the trees with sheets of elysian rain
that soak the roots and send runnels
of experience unfettered
to those who crouch by the banks holding tarnished mugs,
and untarnished faith,
that this is the garden of a god.
I repent and beg forgiveness
from the Faith
for threats against their holy places,
and to the gods
for claiming a position
I was not granted.
* * *
My penance is to admit the truest thing I know:
There is a Gardener in the Lowest Archives,
who cultivates knowledge
and genius, scholarship and history.
In the rich black humus of the deepest
journals, the Gardener plants seeds of wisdom
which take root and send forth pale stalks of memory
(the hollow shafts of quills)
and inspiration and chronology,
and from these an orchard grows,
the air heady with the scent of shared knowledge,
the stacks crowded with barrels of facts pressed
into the cider that is poured into the tarnished mugs of the
storytellers and scholars who speak
and chronicle the history of the ages.
Nothing is hidden in the orchard.
Nothing is barren; nothing blighted; nothing burned; nothing hoarded.
This is the Garden of Vellichor; a god's hands till this soil
and harvest this fruit.
Remembrance sweeps the trees with sheets of elysian rain
that soak the roots and send runnels
of experience unfettered
to those who crouch by the banks holding tarnished mugs,
and untarnished faith,
that this is the garden of a god.
Written By Sina
Aug. 30, 2018, 2:19 p.m.(6/27/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
A scholar's path is learning. A valuable lesson was given to me, and I have taken it to heart. Sometimes, it can be a challenge, learning. I now see my role as Prelate with new eyes. I find myself looking at the world differently. Changed. Thank you for the valuable lesson.
Written By Bliss
July 11, 2018, 12:42 p.m.(3/4/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
It is, frankly, expected behavior from Prince Barric. This is a man who has walked out on a spar with me because he was losing and I called him out on having thrown a childish fit over me telling him to stop asking me for sex, then tried to get me in trouble for it.
Thrax is truly getting a winner here, but at least Elvesbane will end up in better hands.
Thrax is truly getting a winner here, but at least Elvesbane will end up in better hands.
Written By Reigna
June 25, 2018, 5:43 p.m.(1/28/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
Is it any wonder at all that Father Orazio is the Legate of Concepts? So often when reading through the journals I will find myself composing a response, only to run across something he has said... something that so perfectly outlines each of my points and arguments and usually adds an extra layer that reveals even more truth to the subject.
Thank you, Father. I always take away a profound sense of understanding when I read your words.
Though that final sentence gave me a rather unfortunate mental image. Still. Well deserved.
Thank you, Father. I always take away a profound sense of understanding when I read your words.
Though that final sentence gave me a rather unfortunate mental image. Still. Well deserved.
Written By Duarte
June 25, 2018, 4:31 p.m.(1/28/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Orazio
Perhaps one thing to give up one's Oaths and pay penance and be forgiven.
But perhaps another to then flaunt having done so. And another still for the Legate to respond in-kind by humoring the jest.
Especially in juxtaposition with how absolutely dragged through the mud and publicly lambasted were the divorcees.
Seems inappropriate.
But perhaps another to then flaunt having done so. And another still for the Legate to respond in-kind by humoring the jest.
Especially in juxtaposition with how absolutely dragged through the mud and publicly lambasted were the divorcees.
Seems inappropriate.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.