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Written By Damiana

Jan. 7, 2021, 6:41 p.m.(9/17/1014 AR)

I enjoyed dinner after the sun went down and my fast ended, however it wasn’t just the conversations with knights at the Ambassador that were interesting. It's not a secret I absolutely love pre-reckoning Oathlandic chivalric romance literature and so I requested Lady Astraea to pick a book out of the book case randomly and see where it might take us as I enjoyed a deliciously scrumptious slice of apple pie.

Our journey delved into the sultry tale of a particular tempted baron and a salacious breadcrumb.

While I listened with held breath and hand to chest to each word she whispered as she read, how terrible it was to find out that this isn’t the actual end of our journey? That there might be more tales to explore?

But who would ever read a journal of mine about breadcrumbs or pies? And where oh where might these tales of bread be found?

Written By Damiana

Dec. 24, 2020, 3:06 a.m.(8/15/1014 AR)

Beware those with no honor for their faithlessness and selfishness will consume them and their entire world with their greed.

Written By Damiana

Dec. 22, 2020, 4:14 p.m.(8/12/1014 AR)

I’m thankful for the failures and weaknesses in myself and others, no matter how frustrating it might be to witness. I can only imagine what a terrible thing I’d become were I perfect, turning inwards to my own glory instead of seeking others out. I’m a beautiful creation of the gods, and in their wisdom they made me just so.

Written By Damiana

Dec. 21, 2020, 5:24 p.m.(8/10/1014 AR)

The journal entry is a modern watercolor illustration of an older story about Sir Erec meeting the Knight of the Lion on the battlefield. Two knights charging each other on their mounts, lances drawn with their pennants flying behind. You could see one has a white dragon on a blue field while the other has a golden lion on a red field. In the background, there’s a dazzling white tower with a stylized sun and moon each with a face looking down and stars in particular constellations.

The Oathlandic chivalric romantic sonnet below the illustration talks about the chaste and pure Sir Erec, in which his love drove him to great lengths to prove his worth to his beloved. One of many challenges that the knight met without complaint, and his righteous fury let loose upon those named as wicked. But the story of Sir Erec is one of sadness for those who know the whole tale, even if this particular illustration is one that's a resounding victory after a near loss.

Just on the side of the poem is written vertically a small note, the Queen of the Heavens.

Written By Damiana

Dec. 15, 2020, 6:17 p.m.(7/27/1014 AR)

I think about Eurus, and how my sisters will no doubt go to war there. What I might do.

Establishing a foothold in Eurus would be a positive thing, a fortified dock and citadel with accompanying chapel. Where scores of paladins and crusaders meet and destroy the Tyrant's armies of cruelty and oppression. Where we liberate those city-states and heal the damage that the Mad Prophet has done. No longer places bound and held in the clutches of evil, their very names twisted now to the reflections. Perhaps we might see the miracle with these places returning back to the Pantheon.

A monumental task, one which the enemy has been working hard in achieving what they've done so far. I believe in us, I believe in the gods. Our faith will give us strength.

Written By Damiana

Dec. 10, 2020, 5:48 p.m.(7/17/1014 AR)

On one side of this journal is a page taken from an illumination of a wonderful collection of Oathlandic chivalric romantic ballads, a female questing knight in a dark forest with the moon high above with starry sky. She holds a relic in one hand and a sword in the other as a beast which might be a horned horse has its weapon touch the relic as silver arrows or beams shoot outwards. The author explains in lovely poetic words how love and honor triumph over evil, but would her resolve be strong enough to break the illusion?

On the other side are some simple drawings. A circle of sorts. Or maybe a very simplistic and crude drawing of a snake biting its own tail if one desires to interpret drawings. Alongside it what might be a fierce looking reptilian or lizard like head. There's another which might be a big claw or a very artistic crescent moon. A reptilian eye, and a few other sketches. Below, a simple phrase of poetry.

"Every color has its place, their responsibilities they embrace. While that shade is alive and well, not one other can there dwell."

Written By Damiana

Dec. 3, 2020, 10:23 p.m.(7/3/1014 AR)

After early morning prayers I made my way today to the Cairn Valardin once more, meeting Marquessa Keaton. We searched all throughout the park and after spending considerable time, trial and error feel like we found it near the summit of stones.

The perfumed fragrance of the Rose of roses upon the warm summer breeze conveyed a whisper of oaths made, remembered and bound. Undying honor. Eternal love.

Written By Damiana

Nov. 17, 2020, 2:47 p.m.(5/26/1014 AR)

Worrying will not stop troubles from arriving tomorrow. Anxiety won’t delay death a moment longer. Fear only robs you of living your life now, a hidden shackle to hold you down.

Written By Damiana

Nov. 16, 2020, 2:47 a.m.(5/23/1014 AR)

Relationship Note on Cambria

Pre-reckoning Oathlandic chivalric romance is a favorite of mine, if you can get a rare copy outside the White City.

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.

Written By Damiana

Nov. 6, 2020, 6:56 p.m.(5/4/1014 AR)

I'm looking forward to having more knights in the city.

Written By Damiana

Oct. 30, 2020, 4:11 a.m.(4/17/1014 AR)

I was sitting in the chapel gardens amidst the blooming flowers, listening to the mixture of bird songs and the knights and faithful singing the canticles. I felt the warmth of the sun on my face, the sweet perfume in the gentle breeze around me. There’s moments which feel like a lifetime in a single flutter of a bird’s wing, where everything feels at peace and happiness.

I think I might take a little trip to the Jade Moon garden tomorrow to see what I can experience there.

Written By Damiana

Oct. 28, 2020, 11:45 p.m.(4/14/1014 AR)

Relationship Note on Gwenna

As proud as I am of my sister Emma and her knights, I'm equally proud of Gwenys promoted to General of Clop Clops Company. I just might have to make a new pennant of bright blue with vivid orange carrot. No, that's too gaudy and not serious. Blue pennants with white dragons and horseshoes, with the flag finial being brightly polished golden carrots.

Onwards, sisters!

Written By Damiana

Oct. 24, 2020, 3:59 a.m.(4/5/1014 AR)

The clutches of winter have loosened her icy grasp and sudden blooms the petaled treasures like Gild's treasury as spring comes gently in. And with spring come new opportunities as banners are called and heralds sent throughout the lands.

Across the mountains and over the hills, Dragon’s Song we hear your call. Seraph and paladins, knights and priests, Faith and steel, White City won’t fall. As highlord and banners ride from the west, all will behold Yilbegan’s furious roar.

Sisters, your time is approaching. A sleeping dragon's rest is disturbed and it's time soon for you to rise. I'll do my very best to see you get home. To see as many get home as possible.

Written By Damiana

Oct. 16, 2020, 10:06 p.m.(3/18/1014 AR)

I had a wonderful and unexpected blessing from the gods this week when I met Master Apollo Oakwood. We spoke about the subject of history and the past. The lesson was that all of our histories are incomplete. Not necessarily forgotten, that’d be too plain of a reason. But things that happened while we rested, moments of inattention. Times when we focused our attention on one detail that we thought was most important and in choosing neglected another detail which wouldn’t show its weight yet for some time.

I will keep this in my thoughts for the next few days as I reflect in the morning and evening prayers and ask the gods to help me focus on the details that might be diamonds in the rough which will be important for the future, and not distracted by what seems to be glittering gold. To let my mind and heart be open to receiving.

And as I promised many years ago, I will remain vigilant.

Written By Damiana

Oct. 10, 2020, 4:06 a.m.(3/5/1014 AR)

Relationship Note on Gwenys

Brought by a wagon with a guard of knights bearing the dragon pennant of my sister Emma, I entered Arx in the midst of a snowstorm. How different this place is from my home in the White City. A place full of diverse cultures, peoples and beliefs. Where opportunity to grow and be part of something larger than you were is there if you want to grasp it.

The gift of my sister Gwenys though hugging me was something I never thought I’d have. I missed you, and I can tell you’ve grown as you were away. Maybe our progeny will read stories about your legends like we’ve read on Sugan, Antfortas and other amazing ancestors.

If only I can get bards and scholars to keep up with your pace to record your deeds and send them back to me.

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