Written By Giada
Nov. 21, 2021, 11:01 a.m.(8/10/1016 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
The value of a good mentor cannot be adequately calculated. Father Vayne has guided and mentored me since I first arrived in Arx some years ago; he taught me near everything I know as a Mirrormask. He remains a mentor to me. Counselor, confidant, teacher, friend. I am who I am today in no small part due to his influence in my life.
Written By Anisha
Dec. 2, 2019, 3:12 p.m.(4/20/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
I spoke with the Archlector today, and we discussed my duties as a Mirrormask. No details, of course. Both as a Whisper and as a Mirrormask, I hold the confidence of those who choose to speak to me in the highest respect.
But I think there is something to be said for service in the shrine itself. There's something about being alone with oneself and the many reflections of the black stone.
There are no plants to tend, for all that we'd will it. Sometimes I wonder if more curious plants would grow there, the ones we know require rarefied nourishment.
But that is for others. For me, well. I donned my mask and dark garb, and I advised as best I could.
It's different from being Anisha Whisper, when you are just one Reflection among many.
But I think I am better for it.
But I think there is something to be said for service in the shrine itself. There's something about being alone with oneself and the many reflections of the black stone.
There are no plants to tend, for all that we'd will it. Sometimes I wonder if more curious plants would grow there, the ones we know require rarefied nourishment.
But that is for others. For me, well. I donned my mask and dark garb, and I advised as best I could.
It's different from being Anisha Whisper, when you are just one Reflection among many.
But I think I am better for it.
Written By Elisha
Nov. 30, 2019, 10:40 p.m.(4/17/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
This is a story from a long time hence (and my plea to the Blessed Vayne):
When the Mother of Furrows throws open Her earthen arms, the dead march across Arvum in raucous celebration. Spines rattle and bone timbrels shake with merriment.
However, the First Mirrormask and his sister the Voice of Death take fright, believing in nothing so much as Arvum's fragility. For eleven days and thirteen nights, the siblings bargain with the spirit of Arx Mountain. They offer pledges of cinnabar, horseradish, and fealty until the spirit submits, allowing them to hew a city from the great mountain's corpse.
The siblings weave stories of timidity and obedience into the city's foundations, shaping a grand necropolis to entrap the joyous dead.
Death is not pleased; She curses the First Mirrormask with longevity.
He lives for centuries, watching his children die, then his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, until his heart is too empty even for darkness. And so he turns to a queen of the Abyssal Court, and offers his allegiance in exchange for the queen's pledge to cast his soul back onto the wheel.
During the time of the First Mirrormask's demonic service, he wages war, punishes dissent, and preaches the primacy of obedience. Monsters kneel to him; even the Shards of the Abyss bow down.
Witnessing these horrors, the First Mirrormask's subjects betray him. In secret his freeborn son (known as the Gray Son, because he refuses both black and white) prepares to slay his own father. Not with a trap, not in a battle or as a punishment: those are what led his father astray, and the Gray Son knows that a sword cannot heal a stab wound, not matter how cunningly-wrought.
When the Gray Son walks into his father's twisted Hall, he wields no weapon save love. The very same weapon that drove his father and the Voice to pay such a terrible price for this city, for these catacombs, for this shattered peace.
Love breaks against love in that echoing Hall until the Gray Son returns his father's soul to rest.
The Gray Son's advisors beg him to seal the gates to the Hall, to lock the demon-tainted souls inside, but he refuses. The Gray Son knows that when his father locked his own fears into the catacombs, he became their slave.
Some say Gloria punished the Gray Son, for the sin of kinslaying, with longevity. Some say that he lives still, unaware of the deaths of his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Some say that one day he will wake upon his father's throne.
* * *
The Chosen Few gather,
wreathed in glory and skill,
and benediction,
to achieve the impossible.
All they ask
of the Great Many
is our silence.
When the Mother of Furrows throws open Her earthen arms, the dead march across Arvum in raucous celebration. Spines rattle and bone timbrels shake with merriment.
However, the First Mirrormask and his sister the Voice of Death take fright, believing in nothing so much as Arvum's fragility. For eleven days and thirteen nights, the siblings bargain with the spirit of Arx Mountain. They offer pledges of cinnabar, horseradish, and fealty until the spirit submits, allowing them to hew a city from the great mountain's corpse.
The siblings weave stories of timidity and obedience into the city's foundations, shaping a grand necropolis to entrap the joyous dead.
Death is not pleased; She curses the First Mirrormask with longevity.
He lives for centuries, watching his children die, then his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, until his heart is too empty even for darkness. And so he turns to a queen of the Abyssal Court, and offers his allegiance in exchange for the queen's pledge to cast his soul back onto the wheel.
During the time of the First Mirrormask's demonic service, he wages war, punishes dissent, and preaches the primacy of obedience. Monsters kneel to him; even the Shards of the Abyss bow down.
Witnessing these horrors, the First Mirrormask's subjects betray him. In secret his freeborn son (known as the Gray Son, because he refuses both black and white) prepares to slay his own father. Not with a trap, not in a battle or as a punishment: those are what led his father astray, and the Gray Son knows that a sword cannot heal a stab wound, not matter how cunningly-wrought.
When the Gray Son walks into his father's twisted Hall, he wields no weapon save love. The very same weapon that drove his father and the Voice to pay such a terrible price for this city, for these catacombs, for this shattered peace.
Love breaks against love in that echoing Hall until the Gray Son returns his father's soul to rest.
The Gray Son's advisors beg him to seal the gates to the Hall, to lock the demon-tainted souls inside, but he refuses. The Gray Son knows that when his father locked his own fears into the catacombs, he became their slave.
Some say Gloria punished the Gray Son, for the sin of kinslaying, with longevity. Some say that he lives still, unaware of the deaths of his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Some say that one day he will wake upon his father's throne.
* * *
The Chosen Few gather,
wreathed in glory and skill,
and benediction,
to achieve the impossible.
All they ask
of the Great Many
is our silence.
Written By Elisha
Nov. 4, 2019, 12:56 a.m.(2/19/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
His mantel is carved with these words:
Every tale,
every story,
every anecdote,
every riddle,
is another beat of Aion's heart.
You return to Marach's library after a period of imprisonment, to resume your search for forbidden lore. His manor is unchanged, you think, until the hearth cracks open and a different room appears--then vanishes before you've drawn a breath. Perhaps the secret lies in knowing what words to speak, what rituals to perform, in what order and rhythm, to reveal the hidden library? Or perhaps your confusion and surprise is enough; as you wonder, the room is transfigured again, the walls becoming as transparent as a dragonfly's wings.
You realize that Marach's manor always consisted of two manors, one of burlap and one of glass; perhaps both change with time, but their relationship never changes; the second is forever about to free itself from the first.
"Even dreams," you tell Marach, who is seated beside the hearth, "are subject to laws."
He lowers the stem of his pipe. "You believe the Kindly Voices punish kinslayers and violators of sanctuary, yet all humankind is kin and all Creation is sacred."
"Not my prison cell," you tell him. "The guards forbade me everything save the profane."
Your master bows his head. "Have you not spent decades pursuing forbidden lore?"
"Every tale," you hear yourself say, "every story, every anecdote, every riddle …"
"Yes," he says. "And who, after all, owns the beating of the Dreamer's heart?"
Every tale,
every story,
every anecdote,
every riddle,
is another beat of Aion's heart.
You return to Marach's library after a period of imprisonment, to resume your search for forbidden lore. His manor is unchanged, you think, until the hearth cracks open and a different room appears--then vanishes before you've drawn a breath. Perhaps the secret lies in knowing what words to speak, what rituals to perform, in what order and rhythm, to reveal the hidden library? Or perhaps your confusion and surprise is enough; as you wonder, the room is transfigured again, the walls becoming as transparent as a dragonfly's wings.
You realize that Marach's manor always consisted of two manors, one of burlap and one of glass; perhaps both change with time, but their relationship never changes; the second is forever about to free itself from the first.
"Even dreams," you tell Marach, who is seated beside the hearth, "are subject to laws."
He lowers the stem of his pipe. "You believe the Kindly Voices punish kinslayers and violators of sanctuary, yet all humankind is kin and all Creation is sacred."
"Not my prison cell," you tell him. "The guards forbade me everything save the profane."
Your master bows his head. "Have you not spent decades pursuing forbidden lore?"
"Every tale," you hear yourself say, "every story, every anecdote, every riddle …"
"Yes," he says. "And who, after all, owns the beating of the Dreamer's heart?"
Written By Calista
April 19, 2019, 1:13 a.m.(12/13/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
Now I understand what is meant by seeing "forever" in one's eyes, or face. The idea sounds dizzying, but I am certain I can convince Inigo to indulge me.
Written By Karadoc
Oct. 23, 2018, 2:57 p.m.(11/11/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
An interesting -- and oft explored -- ethical scenario. Logically, any course of action leads the decision-maker to act in a way that maximizes the net benefits to the various individuals (the many) involved. Realistically, sometimes, there is no easy choice to make. No matter what you do, something is going to go badly for someone. Someone will get fucked over. When the sacrifice turns out to have been inadequate, or the wrong people are sacrificed through misunderstanding or inadequate information -- then, it's time to get one's hands dirty. But, that doesn't always require the use of a sword or bow.
Written By Sabine
Oct. 23, 2018, 2:27 a.m.(11/10/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
For the many, the one will sacrifice. For the many, the one /must/ sacrifice. I would take the silver and doom a family to destitution, with no chance of recompense. Then I would collect my remaining people, resources, allies, and wits to hunt those who drove me to such a choice. I would end them to a man, salt the earth where they died, and then, should the gods see fit to have allowed me my survival in such a fight, return to shepherding my flock.
They who raise a hand against helpless others will, if allowed the freedom, raise that hand again and again with impunity. Remove the hand and the sword will fall.
Half-measures aren't to be tolerated when assuring the future. No one capable of being a threat respects half-measures.
They who raise a hand against helpless others will, if allowed the freedom, raise that hand again and again with impunity. Remove the hand and the sword will fall.
Half-measures aren't to be tolerated when assuring the future. No one capable of being a threat respects half-measures.
Written By Lianne
Oct. 22, 2018, 7:34 p.m.(11/9/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
A poor premise upon which to discuss the point I believe you desire to explore.
You lead with a very tricky word. Required. Am I required by oath sworn to my duchess, my archduchess, the crown? If so, this is a discussion of oathbreaking. Will we break our oaths to do what we believe is right even knowing that oathbreaking is wrong in and of itself?
Even leaving that particular point aside, the problem you present is not entirely unfamiliar to some of us. There are solutions beyond acquiescence and dismissal.
To your actual question, then. Yes, of course. One lesser grievous act to spare others the consequences of another. We do this all the time to varying degrees of terribleness, choosing between two awful things in the hopes that whatever we choose might do more good than harm. Life presents very few straightforward solutions. We make the best of our difficulties and grow from them.
You lead with a very tricky word. Required. Am I required by oath sworn to my duchess, my archduchess, the crown? If so, this is a discussion of oathbreaking. Will we break our oaths to do what we believe is right even knowing that oathbreaking is wrong in and of itself?
Even leaving that particular point aside, the problem you present is not entirely unfamiliar to some of us. There are solutions beyond acquiescence and dismissal.
To your actual question, then. Yes, of course. One lesser grievous act to spare others the consequences of another. We do this all the time to varying degrees of terribleness, choosing between two awful things in the hopes that whatever we choose might do more good than harm. Life presents very few straightforward solutions. We make the best of our difficulties and grow from them.
Written By Niklas
Oct. 22, 2018, 8:48 a.m.(11/9/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
If I am allowed to choose the family this seems like a fairly straightforward conundrum.
Written By Edain
Sept. 28, 2018, 9:18 a.m.(9/7/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
Brother Driskell's cookies. I meant to say Brother Driskell's cookies.
I feel like I have now made this wierd.
I feel like I have now made this wierd.
Written By Edain
Sept. 28, 2018, 9:07 a.m.(9/7/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
I would be a liar if I said I ever found any wisdom in the teachings of Tehom that I felt made me a better person, or that it provided a perspective that I found meaningful in a way that I felt I did not find from the virtues the other gods exemplify.
I would also be a filthy liar if I said that Brother Driskell's didn't get me to give him my undivided attention and truly, honestly listen more than I would have otherwise.
Thank you for posting his recipe, and the reminder that just because you didn't agree with someone doesn't mean that Arvum was a better and brighter place for them having been a part of it. And that they can still make us smile even though thier time with us was far too brief.
I would also be a filthy liar if I said that Brother Driskell's didn't get me to give him my undivided attention and truly, honestly listen more than I would have otherwise.
Thank you for posting his recipe, and the reminder that just because you didn't agree with someone doesn't mean that Arvum was a better and brighter place for them having been a part of it. And that they can still make us smile even though thier time with us was far too brief.
Written By Calista
May 6, 2018, 11:21 p.m.(9/12/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
The Archlector isn't afraid to ask thought provoking questions. I think I like this best about him.
Written By Cadenza
April 26, 2018, 8:56 a.m.(8/15/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
All I can say is.....
Thank you. Thank you so much.
Thank you. Thank you so much.
Written By Monique
April 16, 2018, 12:43 p.m.(7/23/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
Wonderful to wake up and see victim-blaming alive and well.
To the Valardin contingent: Sticks and stones can break your bones, but words can never hurt you…unless you believe them. Then, they can destroy you.
Do not let a joke made in exceedingly poor taste be more than an eyeroll in your day.
To the Valardin contingent: Sticks and stones can break your bones, but words can never hurt you…unless you believe them. Then, they can destroy you.
Do not let a joke made in exceedingly poor taste be more than an eyeroll in your day.
Written By Reigna
April 16, 2018, 12:39 p.m.(7/23/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
Blessed Vayne, when one speaks with the authority of the Crown, one's words are powerful. There is a trade off for such things. Statements of such a nature are seen and heard and repeated by the citizens of Arx. She speaks with the weight of the Crown. Perhaps if she seeks such power, she should be aware of the consequences that power carries.
The Oathlanders have fine senses of humor. But no one likes being the butt of poor jokes.
The Oathlanders have fine senses of humor. But no one likes being the butt of poor jokes.
Written By Fianna
April 16, 2018, 12:29 a.m.(7/22/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
I prefer to just not judge people in the first place. The pain that can hide behind a single smile is tremendous. Everyone deals with things differently, and with a few notable exceptions, its not our place to judge whether they're appropriate or not. But that's just the Northern in me talking! You southern folk do you!
Written By Aleksei
April 15, 2018, 11:59 p.m.(7/22/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
It's a trap! Don't fall for it! He'll actually send you there!
Written By Orazio
April 15, 2018, 11:30 p.m.(7/22/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
To reference a recent entry by Blessed Vayne:
We can always send more, you know.
We can always send more, you know.
Written By Derovai
Feb. 27, 2018, 2:43 p.m.(4/9/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
"What would you do, if you weren't afraid?"
Fear doesn't keep me from doing a thing. That's not to say I'm not afraid at times, only that I do my very best to not let it hinder me. Realizing and appreciating risks is a wholly different reaction from being paralyzed by them.
What about you, Archlector? What are you afraid of?
Fear doesn't keep me from doing a thing. That's not to say I'm not afraid at times, only that I do my very best to not let it hinder me. Realizing and appreciating risks is a wholly different reaction from being paralyzed by them.
What about you, Archlector? What are you afraid of?
Written By Cassima
Feb. 27, 2018, 12:15 p.m.(4/9/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Vayne
I would observe, Archlector, that fear is simply another issue of economics: the weighing of risk versus reward, of expense versus value.
Perhaps I enjoy the dark, and would enjoy being out in it. But is it truly the dark I fear, or the potential dangers it conceals? In the dark I could trip and fall, could become lost, or be set upon by someone more skilled in the dark than I.
These are not beliefs, they are real and present dangers.
Fear allows us to weight the potential reward of an action (in this case, a lovely dark stroll) versus the risk posed by it (as written above). In this, fear is a protector: it makes us stop and evaluate the choices we are about to make, if the result may be worth the risk, and if it will cost me more than I will benefit by it.
Perhaps I enjoy the dark, and would enjoy being out in it. But is it truly the dark I fear, or the potential dangers it conceals? In the dark I could trip and fall, could become lost, or be set upon by someone more skilled in the dark than I.
These are not beliefs, they are real and present dangers.
Fear allows us to weight the potential reward of an action (in this case, a lovely dark stroll) versus the risk posed by it (as written above). In this, fear is a protector: it makes us stop and evaluate the choices we are about to make, if the result may be worth the risk, and if it will cost me more than I will benefit by it.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.