Written By Forato
Nov. 27, 2018, 12:36 p.m.(1/25/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Sparte
I am afraid I could forget everything else and just wander the halls of heroes with my teacher of riddles forever. It is so utterly fascinating, so stretching and such good exercise for mind and soul. I find thoughts of farming and gardening follow me in these halls and thoughts of riddles and sphinxes follow me in the garden. I do not think there are such particular parts of a person that they do not all mix to form the whole. I think, as my riddle master might enjoy, in finding ourselves we find someone else entirely.
Written By Forato
Nov. 17, 2018, 11:34 p.m.(1/6/1010 AR)
There's a missing Marquis that, well of course, I did not know. But a fellow Velenosan. Granted, I am also unsure if people expect people to lose interest by certain degrees of seperation but this is a mystery and a marquis. A man with a family, who had a role, upon whom people relied. Someone loved and now missed. Leaving a hole in the dream where they no longer are, or perhaps they are and like me they have been taken a slave. I don't know that I can assume someone dead without a body... I do not wish to live with the weight of all that worry but this might be something that I can do a little something about even if that little something is caring loud enough for others to add their voice to the cause. How much more interesting if it turns into an adventure on the high seas! How much more so if it can draw a group of friendly acquaintances into true, fast friends. Who have tackled challenge and survived threat together to discover the unknown and look for the unseen.
Written By Forato
Nov. 17, 2018, 1:12 a.m.(1/4/1010 AR)
What a thrill! I got to be a bar tender at a wild party at the Spirits. I would say there were bar brawls but there was literally a brawl of some kind at all times. It's just a Redrain bar at that point. It's been wild and I've met a lot of new people. I have to say, the wolves, the winter, and the wildness of the north is strangely refreshing coming from the sly and smile and wine of the south.
Written By Forato
Nov. 14, 2018, 2:21 p.m.(12/27/1009 AR)
So many new folk, it's truly amazing. I've had the... gall? moxy? courage?.... to show the scars. Maybe I felt I had little to lose due to only having just met the handful of people who saw them. Perhaps, I'm tired of still being chained by the fear of just being who I am. I am a scarred man. They are strange and deep. I can be grateful for the short looks and level tones used by those who keep their composure with such a sight... but it is always the adoration worthy Adora's outlayer aptitude for being such a pure audience to life that helps most. Out of everyone that evening... I feel she is likely the one who accepted me as I was simply because she was willing to boldly (or is it blandly when she does it?) ask.
I couldn't live a slave of fear. I can't live as a slave of anything, or anyone, anymore.
I couldn't live a slave of fear. I can't live as a slave of anything, or anyone, anymore.
Written By Forato
Nov. 8, 2018, noon(12/15/1009 AR)
What an intriguing evening spent learning so much about the slight skews I had been told in the tales of Iron and Steel. Truly heroes in their own right. Truly individuals. Still, I could not help but look around me and wonder if they were in the room with me right then, another spoke on the wheel, having forgotten who they once were and now are.
Written By Forato
Nov. 6, 2018, 1:57 p.m.(12/11/1009 AR)
So many interesting people to meet. I keep finding myself in awe and affection for those who sit high on their horses. Boldly with bravado and strength. I hear tell of this activity in the eastern forests, I need to prepare myself to face such things. I need to find a teacher in survival.
Written By Forato
Nov. 4, 2018, 10:03 p.m.(12/8/1009 AR)
It's odd. This being alive and treated so well. I know I should be used to it by now but I'm not. Seeing those shav filled me with such hatred and anger... I almost wished I could curse them. I don't want to become that which I so loathe but the anger is there. Always. Waiting.
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