Written By Maude
April 23, 2017, 8:52 p.m.(5/1/1006 AR)
The rules of the game have changed. It is possible for the player to figure out what the new rules are, to reason and discern their way through them. Old opening moves must be relearned, new moves committed to memory, but it can be done. Though the saying about old dogs and new tricks does come to mind. Still, there is no time to relearn everything, and one must improvise. Needs, after all, must.
Written By Maude
April 15, 2017, 9:50 p.m.(4/12/1006 AR)
At times, one's vows to serve those above and protect those below seem to put one at odds with notions of honor in war. To be honorable and lose and, in that loss, to doom those who count on you to be their shield and their sword when they have none? Is my honor worth their deaths? Rarely. My honor, and Gloria's disapproval, perhaps, is a price I've often paid. And yet, at the time, it seemed to me other gods called upon me to do so. I was likely wrong, but one does not always have the luxury of prayer and theological debate.
And so, kind and goodly people sleep safe in their beds at night for some of us are willing to pay the price and make the choices they would not, etc, etc, etc.
Yet, one should not grow too enamoured of one's own image as someone who does what must be done. The hard choice then becomes too easy, and wasteful cruelty wielded because it is expedient, not because it is necessary.
These are an old woman's thoughts, nothing more. I have too much blood on my own hands to judge another's without knowing why they did what they did.
On the subject of flaying, however, I'm unconvinced that it is anything but a cultural affectation. Like folk dancing. It hardly seems a custom worth preserving.
Written By Maude
April 2, 2017, 11:34 p.m.(3/15/1006 AR)
I am informed, alas, that the Compact cannot, at the moment, afford alaricite ballistae. Or can it? Should our enemies be reading this, I hope this keeps them in suspense. If future historians read this, assuming the Compact survives and this page does not mysteriously vanish, I hope they will take the matter of alaricite ballistae for granted and spin some unlikely but entertaining fantasy about its makers, like some histories I've had the occasion of skimming through of late.
However, and thankfully, House Ashford can afford copious amounts of whiskey.
However, and thankfully, House Ashford can afford copious amounts of whiskey.
Written By Maude
March 26, 2017, 11:34 p.m.(3/1/1006 AR)
It had been a while. Arrows still hurt. It gladdens me to see some things do not change. The Mercies do admirable work.
Humanity continues its existence for the time being. I call that a victory.
Humanity continues its existence for the time being. I call that a victory.
Written By Maude
Feb. 12, 2017, 8:34 p.m.(11/28/1005 AR)
The die is cast, or it will be soon enough.
I am not at all fond of games of chance. There is always a risk in war, there are always odds of success and of failure, but I find part of a military commander's job is to whittle away at sources of uncertainty and to diminish the role played by luck in the tides of battle. To turn a game of cards into a game of chess.
It cannot be done entirely, of course, there are too many things one cannot control. But the more a general knows, the better she can assess likely outcomes, for better and for worse. And, if for worse, to avoid the fight entirely, if possible. We have no such luck. I have done some whittling at uncertainty over the past few weeks, but hardly enough that I can guess at what will happen.
I expect that's where the gods come in. In the roll of the dice.
I am not at all fond of games of chance. There is always a risk in war, there are always odds of success and of failure, but I find part of a military commander's job is to whittle away at sources of uncertainty and to diminish the role played by luck in the tides of battle. To turn a game of cards into a game of chess.
It cannot be done entirely, of course, there are too many things one cannot control. But the more a general knows, the better she can assess likely outcomes, for better and for worse. And, if for worse, to avoid the fight entirely, if possible. We have no such luck. I have done some whittling at uncertainty over the past few weeks, but hardly enough that I can guess at what will happen.
I expect that's where the gods come in. In the roll of the dice.
Written By Maude
Jan. 22, 2017, 7 p.m.(9/24/1005 AR)
Duty calls and I must answer. I will be in command of Ashford's troops in the coming campaign. I will have to finish my history of the Queen of Games another time.
I do not write this to be reassuring, but the planning and coordination stage is going more smoothly than I expected. Gabriel Bisland is Gabriel Bisland, and the Duke can rally his troops. No one was at each other's throats. It's rather heartening.
I feel sorry for my late nephew, Duke Barton. Thank you for your condolences. But Harlan is being quite ducal so far. I expect he'll do well.
I do not write this to be reassuring, but the planning and coordination stage is going more smoothly than I expected. Gabriel Bisland is Gabriel Bisland, and the Duke can rally his troops. No one was at each other's throats. It's rather heartening.
I feel sorry for my late nephew, Duke Barton. Thank you for your condolences. But Harlan is being quite ducal so far. I expect he'll do well.
Written By Maude
Jan. 15, 2017, 11:59 p.m.(9/4/1005 AR)
Everything's going to shit at home, Bringers and dead forest closer and closer every day. So, I thought I'd come to Arx, where at least I'll be there to disapprove in person of decisions being made about my life or death as the case may be.
Arx is the same as ever, and so is Aldwin. I ran into the Archscholar in the Grotto, and promised him I'd finish that treatise on the history of the game. I might as well. The Archive's right here, and won't have to wait for scribes and messengers.
Everyone else is so fucking young. I think that's what being an old woman's about, ointment and being surrounded by babies.
I shouldn't judge, I was already very competent at their age. We'll see.
Arx is the same as ever, and so is Aldwin. I ran into the Archscholar in the Grotto, and promised him I'd finish that treatise on the history of the game. I might as well. The Archive's right here, and won't have to wait for scribes and messengers.
Everyone else is so fucking young. I think that's what being an old woman's about, ointment and being surrounded by babies.
I shouldn't judge, I was already very competent at their age. We'll see.
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