Written By Candace
Sept. 17, 2018, 8:14 a.m.(8/13/1009 AR)
ORTVA OL FRNEPUVAT GUR IRYYVPUBEVNA NPNQRZL SBE GUR OYRFFVAT BS FNSR GENIRYF
Written By Candace
Sept. 10, 2018, 1:15 p.m.(7/26/1009 AR)
NOITELP MOCOT SEIRE TSY MEHTWO LLO FOHWESOHT TI AWASDRAWER
Written By Candace
Sept. 9, 2018, 3:27 p.m.(7/24/1009 AR)
Know that one thousand and nine years have passed since the Reckoning. Today is the twenty-fourth day of the seventh month. I am writing from the city of Arx in The Bakery in the Ward of the Compact. I am Candace Corvo, proprietor of The Bakery, and this is my white journal.
The artisans returned the two cake toppers I need. They are rather lovely pair of foxes. This completes the second of my three commissions, leaving one remaining to be fulfilled and delivered. With giving day so close, things have been quite mad lately, but I'm thankful for the custom.
The artisans returned the two cake toppers I need. They are rather lovely pair of foxes. This completes the second of my three commissions, leaving one remaining to be fulfilled and delivered. With giving day so close, things have been quite mad lately, but I'm thankful for the custom.
Written By Candace
Sept. 2, 2018, 10:57 p.m.(7/6/1009 AR)
Know that one thousand and nine years have passed since the Reckoning. Today is the sixth day of the seventh month. I am writing from the city of Arx in The Bakery in the Ward of the Compact. I am Candace Corvo, proprietor of The Bakery, and this is my white journal.
The commissions have come quickly, but I have managed to find an adorable pair of fox figurines to serve as a cake topper. My thanks to the toymakers for indulging a lady in her odd request. The height of the summer comes soon, and with it, the need for fresh fruit and cream pastries. First, I must still finish this chocolate spice cake with caramel icing.
The commissions have come quickly, but I have managed to find an adorable pair of fox figurines to serve as a cake topper. My thanks to the toymakers for indulging a lady in her odd request. The height of the summer comes soon, and with it, the need for fresh fruit and cream pastries. First, I must still finish this chocolate spice cake with caramel icing.
Written By Candace
Aug. 27, 2018, 10:24 p.m.(6/22/1009 AR)
Know that one thousand and nine years have passed since the Reckoning. Today is the twenty-second day of the sixth month. I am writing from the city of Arx at the Caravan Mercantile Echange in the Ward of the Compact. I am Candace Corvo, partner of the Exchange, and this is my white journal.
I have had a long conversation with Bethicus about that disturbing skull that she left at the Exchange. She had rather hoped that I might find a private collector for it, though I pointed out that wasn't at all the goal of the consignment. We have come to an agreement that I would leave it on display for a period, that people might look at it. Perhaps one will make an offer on it. I suspect the right buyer might set her up for life, but I wonder what she would do if she won that lottery? Would she quit? Could she quit the life of adventure and travel? I know that I could not, until the signs became all too plain that I would be made to quit.
On a brighter note, I caught a bright young man named Jeremy at the market buying vellum and colored inks. As the inks were exceedingly expensive, and young Jeremy looked rather hand to mouth, I treated him to lunch and asked that he show me his illustrations. They were breathtaking. Most were of the Gray River, and it turns out that he makes his living selling river atlases to the riverboat captains. I passed his name to a caravaneer that I know, who hired him as a cartographer. Since he had no chance to sell his latest illustration, I offered to sell it for him on consignment. I hope to have good news for him when he returns in six weeks.
I have had a long conversation with Bethicus about that disturbing skull that she left at the Exchange. She had rather hoped that I might find a private collector for it, though I pointed out that wasn't at all the goal of the consignment. We have come to an agreement that I would leave it on display for a period, that people might look at it. Perhaps one will make an offer on it. I suspect the right buyer might set her up for life, but I wonder what she would do if she won that lottery? Would she quit? Could she quit the life of adventure and travel? I know that I could not, until the signs became all too plain that I would be made to quit.
On a brighter note, I caught a bright young man named Jeremy at the market buying vellum and colored inks. As the inks were exceedingly expensive, and young Jeremy looked rather hand to mouth, I treated him to lunch and asked that he show me his illustrations. They were breathtaking. Most were of the Gray River, and it turns out that he makes his living selling river atlases to the riverboat captains. I passed his name to a caravaneer that I know, who hired him as a cartographer. Since he had no chance to sell his latest illustration, I offered to sell it for him on consignment. I hope to have good news for him when he returns in six weeks.
Written By Candace
Aug. 19, 2018, 10:59 p.m.(6/5/1009 AR)
Know that one thousand and nine years have passed since the Reckoning. Today is the fifth day of the sixth month. I am writing from the city of Arx at the Caravan Mercantile Echange in the Ward of the Compact. I am Candace Corvo, partner of the Exchange, and this is my white journal.
Things have gone better than I could have imagined. The whelkies are entirely gone, sold for a meager profit by the scale of things, but the trader confided in me that a shaman had given him the items. Said they were blessed and that they would find their way into the hands of those who need them. I am unsure of what to think about this, but the trader seemed happy and thus I am happy.
Or rather, I was. Bethicus, one of the younger caravan hands, says she "found" something on her trip southward. She'd been out of Arx four months, plying one of the same routes that I traveled with the Crimson Caravan in years past. I know those trails well, and yet, she said there was a small settlement that hadn't been there from my recollection. I don't know if I believe her, but I have never known her to lie, so what am I to think when she says that she "found" a small rubicund and stygian statue?
We are torn as to whether to put it up for consignment. Neither of us can bear its hideous presence, and yet, it is undeniably a piece of art. An expensive piece of art.
Things have gone better than I could have imagined. The whelkies are entirely gone, sold for a meager profit by the scale of things, but the trader confided in me that a shaman had given him the items. Said they were blessed and that they would find their way into the hands of those who need them. I am unsure of what to think about this, but the trader seemed happy and thus I am happy.
Or rather, I was. Bethicus, one of the younger caravan hands, says she "found" something on her trip southward. She'd been out of Arx four months, plying one of the same routes that I traveled with the Crimson Caravan in years past. I know those trails well, and yet, she said there was a small settlement that hadn't been there from my recollection. I don't know if I believe her, but I have never known her to lie, so what am I to think when she says that she "found" a small rubicund and stygian statue?
We are torn as to whether to put it up for consignment. Neither of us can bear its hideous presence, and yet, it is undeniably a piece of art. An expensive piece of art.
Written By Candace
Aug. 16, 2018, 7:19 p.m.(5/27/1009 AR)
Know that one thousand and nine years have passed since the Reckoning. Today is the twenty-seventh day of the fifth month. I am writing from the city of Arx at the Caravan Mercantile Echange in the Ward of the Compact. I am Candace Corvo, partner of the Exchange, and this is my white journal.
At long last, I've convinced the others of the need to tend not just to the needs of the caravan owners, but those engaged in private trade as well. I suspect they wanted me to remodel their offices, and as it suited me to include a consignment area, we will both get what we wanted. So this means that men and women like me, who had found strange and wonderful things while trekking across Arvum in the service of trade, will have a place to sell their goods.
They come in far too small a quantity to be sold at retail markets. The lumber and produce, ores and textiles, all those things go to the market in great and seemingly endless quantities. But should a carpenter who happens upon a remarkable statuette of driftwood from the Bay of Thrax or a batik from the Lyceum go to a retailer to sell this unique marvel? They could. I had to. And the retailers could rake one over the coals for a share of the profit they didn't earn but for having a storefront.
I can offer them a much better deal than that.
At long last, I've convinced the others of the need to tend not just to the needs of the caravan owners, but those engaged in private trade as well. I suspect they wanted me to remodel their offices, and as it suited me to include a consignment area, we will both get what we wanted. So this means that men and women like me, who had found strange and wonderful things while trekking across Arvum in the service of trade, will have a place to sell their goods.
They come in far too small a quantity to be sold at retail markets. The lumber and produce, ores and textiles, all those things go to the market in great and seemingly endless quantities. But should a carpenter who happens upon a remarkable statuette of driftwood from the Bay of Thrax or a batik from the Lyceum go to a retailer to sell this unique marvel? They could. I had to. And the retailers could rake one over the coals for a share of the profit they didn't earn but for having a storefront.
I can offer them a much better deal than that.
Written By Candace
Aug. 12, 2018, 11:54 p.m.(5/20/1009 AR)
Know that one thousand and nine years have passed since the Reckoning. Today is the twentieth day of the fifth month. I am writing from the city of Arx in The Bakery in the Ward of the Compact. I am Candace Corvo, proprietor of The Bakery, and this is my white journal.
It seems so much time has passed in such a short while. With strawberries coming into their fullness, there's a great deal to be done. The shortcakes sold out promptly, and I've not been able to find sugar loaves of sufficient purity to make confections. They must be extraordinarily small and white loaves in order to be powdered finely enough to give the cake its texture. Perhaps in the future.
Leon and I have continued to offer breakfast rolls, and the relationship has been rewarding. Not only do our products compliment each other well, the sellswords and mercies have been well fed and the traveling merchants pleased.
It seems so much time has passed in such a short while. With strawberries coming into their fullness, there's a great deal to be done. The shortcakes sold out promptly, and I've not been able to find sugar loaves of sufficient purity to make confections. They must be extraordinarily small and white loaves in order to be powdered finely enough to give the cake its texture. Perhaps in the future.
Leon and I have continued to offer breakfast rolls, and the relationship has been rewarding. Not only do our products compliment each other well, the sellswords and mercies have been well fed and the traveling merchants pleased.
Written By Candace
Aug. 4, 2018, 11:26 a.m.(4/26/1009 AR)
Know that one thousand and nine years have passed since the Reckoning. Today is the twenty-sixth day of the fourth month. I am writing from the city of Arx in The Bakery in the Ward of the Compact. I am Candace Corvo, proprietor of The Bakery, and this is my white journal.
It seems I am not the only one who has developed a taste for sweets now that the weather has turned fair. Apricots and strawberries are already beginning to appear favourable at the market, so perhaps pies are in order before long. I also have a surefit of preserved cherries and jams, so perhaps a cobbler? There are so many options.
At any rate, I will have to follow up with Leon, the butcher, for more of those savoury sausages. I am quite sure he appreciates the custom, and I appreciate spending a little time with him.
Someone asked me today why I charge so much for a cake. While they came in, a caravaner stopped by to lay in a larder order for an overland trip due north. I indicated that they, the questioning party, ought to listen in with discretion. For a party of sixteen, including ten soldiers who would be guarding the train with their lives day in and day out for twelve weeks, I was able to supply their needs for eight hundred silver. That is fifty silver per person for the entire trip. Half a silver a day, thereabouts. They will have hardtack, hearty journeyloaves, and cookies enough for their trip.
For a cake that cost five thousand silver, quite literally years of wages for most commoners, I will spend days testing and perfecting ingredients. Testing the recipe. I will bake that cake five times over to make sure that it is the best cake that I am capable of making. I will spend no less effort for that caravan, and having been a caravaner myself, there may be a bit extra in their order.
When the order was laid in and the date delivered, the caravaner thanked me and left, and I returned my attention to the young scholar who asked the question about the cake. He looked thoughtful, but he was still upon the precipice, not quite ready to arrive at his conclusion without one last prompt from me.
So, I asked him this question, "What is the difference between art and craft?"
It seems I am not the only one who has developed a taste for sweets now that the weather has turned fair. Apricots and strawberries are already beginning to appear favourable at the market, so perhaps pies are in order before long. I also have a surefit of preserved cherries and jams, so perhaps a cobbler? There are so many options.
At any rate, I will have to follow up with Leon, the butcher, for more of those savoury sausages. I am quite sure he appreciates the custom, and I appreciate spending a little time with him.
Someone asked me today why I charge so much for a cake. While they came in, a caravaner stopped by to lay in a larder order for an overland trip due north. I indicated that they, the questioning party, ought to listen in with discretion. For a party of sixteen, including ten soldiers who would be guarding the train with their lives day in and day out for twelve weeks, I was able to supply their needs for eight hundred silver. That is fifty silver per person for the entire trip. Half a silver a day, thereabouts. They will have hardtack, hearty journeyloaves, and cookies enough for their trip.
For a cake that cost five thousand silver, quite literally years of wages for most commoners, I will spend days testing and perfecting ingredients. Testing the recipe. I will bake that cake five times over to make sure that it is the best cake that I am capable of making. I will spend no less effort for that caravan, and having been a caravaner myself, there may be a bit extra in their order.
When the order was laid in and the date delivered, the caravaner thanked me and left, and I returned my attention to the young scholar who asked the question about the cake. He looked thoughtful, but he was still upon the precipice, not quite ready to arrive at his conclusion without one last prompt from me.
So, I asked him this question, "What is the difference between art and craft?"
Written By Candace
July 31, 2018, 10:44 p.m.(4/19/1009 AR)
Know that one thousand and nineyears have passed since the Reckoning. Today is the nineteenth day of the fourth month. I am writing from the city of Arx in The Bakery in the Ward of the Compact. I am Candace Corvo, proprietor of The Bakery, and this is my white journal.
I have found myself in a dessert mood, as of late. I am not, strictly speaking, a pastry chef. There is something about the arrival of spring that does make me want to embrace the warmth and light of a new season. There is also the fact that the pasta, of which I spend a not inconsiderable amount of time making, is not as picturesque as a rose velvet cupcake.
I have found myself in a dessert mood, as of late. I am not, strictly speaking, a pastry chef. There is something about the arrival of spring that does make me want to embrace the warmth and light of a new season. There is also the fact that the pasta, of which I spend a not inconsiderable amount of time making, is not as picturesque as a rose velvet cupcake.
Written By Candace
May 25, 2018, 12:04 p.m.(11/4/1008 AR)
Know that one thousand and eight years have passed since the Reckoning. Today is the fourth day of the eleventh month. I am writing from the city of Arx, in the small room I can afford at the Badger Boarding House, in the Ward of House Grayson. I am Candace Corvo, former sellsword and current proprietor of The Bakery, and this is my white journal.
A pair of rascals came into the shop and demanded all of my sourdough breads. Well... at least they came to the right place. The lord, or what I thought was the lord, had adopted a homeless woman... who then lost his coin purse. But then it turned out that the good fellow was new and she a scholar who was showing him about. At any rate, I will have to bake more sourdough rye, so I should start on that soon.
As it is delving into the autumnal season with rapidity, I've begun veering away from the summer fruits into dates and apples, or raspberries and cranberries. I think I'll proceed with the berries first, as the dates and apples should last well into the winter.
A pair of rascals came into the shop and demanded all of my sourdough breads. Well... at least they came to the right place. The lord, or what I thought was the lord, had adopted a homeless woman... who then lost his coin purse. But then it turned out that the good fellow was new and she a scholar who was showing him about. At any rate, I will have to bake more sourdough rye, so I should start on that soon.
As it is delving into the autumnal season with rapidity, I've begun veering away from the summer fruits into dates and apples, or raspberries and cranberries. I think I'll proceed with the berries first, as the dates and apples should last well into the winter.
Written By Candace
May 20, 2018, 11:18 p.m.(10/12/1008 AR)
Know that one thousand and eight years have passed since the Reckoning. Today is the twelfth day of the tenth month. I am writing from the city of Arx, in the small room I can afford at the Badger Boarding House, in the Ward of House Grayson. I am Candace Corvo, former sellsword and current proprietor of The Bakery, and this is my white journal.
Count Amadeo's cake is complete and I have sent a messenger to ask him for the disposition of the pastry. I hope it is well received.
I watched the sellswords ply their trade in the market square today. I needed to take a break from the day's baking, so I took a roll with me and ventured to the butchers for a cut of the corned beef he has been selling this week. It was a satisfactory sandwich.
I miss it. The fighting. The adventuring. But what I don't miss is the loss. I have offered a modest discount to the Crimson Blades, Society of Explorers, and Valorous Few, because I understand all too well that small luxuries and respect make the life a little more bearable.
Count Amadeo's cake is complete and I have sent a messenger to ask him for the disposition of the pastry. I hope it is well received.
I watched the sellswords ply their trade in the market square today. I needed to take a break from the day's baking, so I took a roll with me and ventured to the butchers for a cut of the corned beef he has been selling this week. It was a satisfactory sandwich.
I miss it. The fighting. The adventuring. But what I don't miss is the loss. I have offered a modest discount to the Crimson Blades, Society of Explorers, and Valorous Few, because I understand all too well that small luxuries and respect make the life a little more bearable.
Written By Candace
May 19, 2018, 10:58 p.m.(10/10/1008 AR)
Know that one thousand and eight years have passed since the Reckoning. Today is the tenth day of the tenth month. I am writing from the city of Arx, in the small room I can afford at the Badger Boarding House, in the Ward of House Grayson. I am Candace Corvo, former sellsword and current proprietor of The Bakery, and this is my white journal.
The week has been an eventful one. I have approached two clients regarding their requests for baked goods. First, for the Duchess Calista Fidante I catered a small array of treats, from tarts to cinnamon rolls. Second, for Count Duarte Amadeo I am working on a cake set to his exacting specifications. During this time I offered my services to Princess Sabella Grayson and produced an exquisite chocolate mirror cake.
I don't think I'd have managed any of this if I'd not spent at least a little time with the Redwing Caravan trading recipes and trying them out on the men and women traveling together. I'd thank Cookie, but I know that is no longer possible. Still, I like to think he was aware of my gratitude when he was still able to receive it.
I have maintained the tradition of offering the malformed and day-old castoffs for free to those in need. Arx is a city of great wealth, and yet there is tremendous poverty if one knows where to look. When I found that a place to look was along the Merchant Road, I decided to continue. Cookie never let anyone go hungry, and neither shall I.
The week has been an eventful one. I have approached two clients regarding their requests for baked goods. First, for the Duchess Calista Fidante I catered a small array of treats, from tarts to cinnamon rolls. Second, for Count Duarte Amadeo I am working on a cake set to his exacting specifications. During this time I offered my services to Princess Sabella Grayson and produced an exquisite chocolate mirror cake.
I don't think I'd have managed any of this if I'd not spent at least a little time with the Redwing Caravan trading recipes and trying them out on the men and women traveling together. I'd thank Cookie, but I know that is no longer possible. Still, I like to think he was aware of my gratitude when he was still able to receive it.
I have maintained the tradition of offering the malformed and day-old castoffs for free to those in need. Arx is a city of great wealth, and yet there is tremendous poverty if one knows where to look. When I found that a place to look was along the Merchant Road, I decided to continue. Cookie never let anyone go hungry, and neither shall I.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.