Written By Mabelle
July 1, 2020, 11:14 a.m.(7/28/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Orvyn
It appears the Marquis is not only a poet with numbers.
It was an honor to compete alongside him, Lady Liliana and Lord Vandorean in the Bard's college's contest.
Congratulations to the winners.
It was an honor to compete alongside him, Lady Liliana and Lord Vandorean in the Bard's college's contest.
Congratulations to the winners.
Written By Lisebet
Aug. 19, 2019, 5:32 p.m.(9/6/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Orvyn
I ran into Marquis Harthall today at Bold Espressions. He seems to have managed to dig himself out of his library, which is wonderful! I do hope he continues to be out and about as his dry wit always adds to any occasion.
Written By Ouida
Nov. 11, 2018, 1:15 p.m.(12/21/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Orvyn
I remember when we were children, and you would be sitting at your studies, head bowed, while the day was glorious outside. Of course, I, in my innocent selfishness, assumed you were unhappy, that the head bowed was one of discontent. So of course, it was my duty to burst in, surprise the tutor, take you by the hand and run until we left the shouting behind us, and the warm sun was on our faces, free at last. "Look, look, come and see, brother, look what ships are coming in!" By then you were laughing, and running just as hard along side me, racing for the overlook where we could watch the whitecaps and ships from on high. You tussled my hair, making a mess of all the braids that my maid had forced it into, and then pointed out where each ship must have been coming from or going to, based on how they set their sails, and the banners they flew. Still at your studies, in a way, patiently educating me where a tutor could not, allowing me to weave crowns and bracelets of the sad scraggly little wildflowers and vines so that I could listen as you spoke.
Now it is you, who offers a hand, at least in spirit, and I am just as breathless in those first few minutes as you must have been--as I am pulled forward and you tell me, "Come and see, sister, what ships are coming in." I know that this is not a path you necessarily would have chosen, years ago, had you the choice. And I know a little of the sacrifices you have made, in fully committing yourself to it. But Harthall has never been so strong, and I have never been so happy, as to chase after these new dreams and plans, and to think I might have a hand in helping you bring them in.
Now it is you, who offers a hand, at least in spirit, and I am just as breathless in those first few minutes as you must have been--as I am pulled forward and you tell me, "Come and see, sister, what ships are coming in." I know that this is not a path you necessarily would have chosen, years ago, had you the choice. And I know a little of the sacrifices you have made, in fully committing yourself to it. But Harthall has never been so strong, and I have never been so happy, as to chase after these new dreams and plans, and to think I might have a hand in helping you bring them in.
Written By Ouida
Oct. 4, 2018, 1:41 p.m.(9/20/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Orvyn
You know, my sweet brother, it occurs to me all these years later that I'm not sure that I have yet forgiven you for that time when you told me that the best place to relieve oneself was over the aft rails of the ship (so that no one would see you) rather than the head rail. On the first sail of father's new warship, with all of our family and a delegation of Farshaws as well, if I recall correctly. I think I shall blame this traumatic incident for my dislike of fine gowns, unless I'm helping to get someone else out of one.
Written By Ouida
Sept. 29, 2018, 7 p.m.(9/10/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Orvyn
My favorite time of the day is perhaps an hour or so before dawn.
The gardens are mostly quiet, though the city and the kitchens stir, and one had better stay out of the way of the goodfolk preparing for the long day ahead of them. The sweet duality of endings and beginnings, slipping away from a strange bed or gently rousing one that must from your own, the promise of the day before you before the invariable mistakes, bunglings, triumphs, or gains unexpected or otherwise.
I find myself in melancholy remembrances today, though I could not put a finger as to why these memories come back to me. Perhaps it is because the keep is now starting to become close to home; I have certainly spent more consecutive days here now in the last year than I did the past ten at Fair Harbor.
I hope that the Keep will hold more pleasant memories, now that the other is tainted. Though there is something that plucks at my senses to say that there is no one however happy upon the surface that doesn't have the home of their childhood, should they be so fortunate as to have one, marred by the echoes of arguments that cut bonds never to be repaired quite the same or as strong. Or even worse, things spoken in the heat of angry passion or rage that were never answered, never softened with reconciliation.
I am not one that is much given to regret. As a wise one told me, quite recently, one must move forward, accept and cherish what we can of the past, without letting it weigh upon us overmuch in the present. Everyone experiences loss, great or small. Whether or not it maims us is more of a choice.
Or so I like to tell myself, and it is easy in the wakeful hours, with sun or rain against my skin and lips, with the buzz and warble of many people around me, and all the tasks that call out for my attention.
Here before the break of dawn, all I can think about is my shame and my regret at willfully staying away from home, falsely speaking of duty to another, so that I did not have to face our father and the words I said at that last parting, spoken more in anger and fear than anything else. My own stubbornness, my own burden.
But looking forward I know, no matter the storm of anger or whatever emotion may come at some future date, as long as it is within my power never shall I go forth without reconciliation with the one who has always been with me; let at least that particular regret never come to pass between us.
The gardens are mostly quiet, though the city and the kitchens stir, and one had better stay out of the way of the goodfolk preparing for the long day ahead of them. The sweet duality of endings and beginnings, slipping away from a strange bed or gently rousing one that must from your own, the promise of the day before you before the invariable mistakes, bunglings, triumphs, or gains unexpected or otherwise.
I find myself in melancholy remembrances today, though I could not put a finger as to why these memories come back to me. Perhaps it is because the keep is now starting to become close to home; I have certainly spent more consecutive days here now in the last year than I did the past ten at Fair Harbor.
I hope that the Keep will hold more pleasant memories, now that the other is tainted. Though there is something that plucks at my senses to say that there is no one however happy upon the surface that doesn't have the home of their childhood, should they be so fortunate as to have one, marred by the echoes of arguments that cut bonds never to be repaired quite the same or as strong. Or even worse, things spoken in the heat of angry passion or rage that were never answered, never softened with reconciliation.
I am not one that is much given to regret. As a wise one told me, quite recently, one must move forward, accept and cherish what we can of the past, without letting it weigh upon us overmuch in the present. Everyone experiences loss, great or small. Whether or not it maims us is more of a choice.
Or so I like to tell myself, and it is easy in the wakeful hours, with sun or rain against my skin and lips, with the buzz and warble of many people around me, and all the tasks that call out for my attention.
Here before the break of dawn, all I can think about is my shame and my regret at willfully staying away from home, falsely speaking of duty to another, so that I did not have to face our father and the words I said at that last parting, spoken more in anger and fear than anything else. My own stubbornness, my own burden.
But looking forward I know, no matter the storm of anger or whatever emotion may come at some future date, as long as it is within my power never shall I go forth without reconciliation with the one who has always been with me; let at least that particular regret never come to pass between us.
Written By Sunniva
Aug. 12, 2018, 11:04 p.m.(5/20/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Orvyn
I have returned from Fair Harbour to find that Harthall has found its pace in the onward march of the city. I am proud of my family for all the work they have done and look forward to help establish further safe havens for those that seek it in our lands.
I am also glad to be back with the Marquis.
I am also glad to be back with the Marquis.
Written By Emmelline
June 24, 2018, 8:56 p.m.(1/26/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Orvyn
met The marquis the other day. he appears to be a nice gentleman, who has everything put quite well together. I have no doubt in his leadership. He has, quite gracefully put me up at the keep.
Written By Sunniva
April 1, 2018, 5:33 p.m.(6/22/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Orvyn
My heart, how different Arx is. Far more opportunities and efforts to aid others can be found here but I miss the scent of the sea from the Keep windows and likewise the rolling hills of the isle. But there are things I am sure I will come to love here and treasure all the more.
May our family grow and prosper beneath Gild and Lagoma and may we continue to bring prosperity to Harthall with Mangata's blessing. I am looking forward to that which we can make together here.
May our family grow and prosper beneath Gild and Lagoma and may we continue to bring prosperity to Harthall with Mangata's blessing. I am looking forward to that which we can make together here.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.