Written By Mirk
Jan. 16, 2024, 1:08 p.m.(7/24/1021 AR)
As I wait and plan and prepare for the battles ahead, I have been thinking about an old song, passed down from shaman to shaman. One that once, I thought would define my path.
The spirit asked the caller, 'How do you see the world? What would you change and amend?'
I see a world of natural beauty. The cold seas of the Mourning Isles, the warm waters of the Saffron Chain, the jungle-like wilds of the Lyceum, the ancient woodlands of the Gray Forest - all have their own unique beauty. Above it all, it is the snowy mountains and ice-capped peaks of my home that will always resonate with me. However, that beauty is a delicate thing. It can be corrupted, despoiled, destroyed. Even the mountains of my home, which came long before me and will be there long after I am gone, are not immune, as the Second Reckoning now threatens to demonstrate. The Abyss will not destroy the mountain itself, but it will destroy that pristine and unsullied wilderness that I have so treasured. It is a world that storms must defend.
The spirit asked the caller, 'Who are you truly? What is your role?'
I am Mirk Halfshav. I have been given titles in Arx, but none define me. In a past life, I was known as Stormcaller, and that is a title that holds more significance. Unlike others, I do not remember that life; I do not remember his name, nor do I know his story. All I know is that the storms considered him kin, that he was a dragonrider, that he bore the Staff of Winds. I suspect he died in some great magic that proved to be too much for him, but I don't know whether it was a battle or something darker. I had always meant to learn more, but those that could tell me of that life were distant. When I finally had the opportunity, it was time for action, not for reminiscing about the past.
I am, at heart, a traveler. I am most at peace with an open road before me, the sky above and the wind at my back. I have strived to learn the stories of the lands and peoples I have encountered, to leave them better than I found them. I have not always succeeded. But circumstances call me to be more than this. I have, in my ways, assumed the mantle of that life. I have bonded the dragon he once called a partner. I carry the Staff of Winds, though it is a shadow of what it once was. I have called to the storms and seen them answer. It is time, it seems, for a Stormcaller.
It is my role to marshal friends and allies to war. Those whose lives I have touched in Arx or are under my authority in House Halfshav and elsewhere. Those beings who answer my call, be they spirit or dragon or otherwise, for reasons of their own, for no being of such age and power responds solely to mortal whims. Those elements that I call mine, the wind and storm and ice that heed my words and have, in some ways, become a part of mine. I am a guardian, one who will march to battle alongside them.
The spirit asked the caller, 'What are your idols? To whom do you pray?"
Gods both Old and Pantheon. I pray to Tempest and Storm, to Blizzard and the Four Winds. I confess that I felt little need for the Faith when I was young. I paid lip service to the Faith, as the bare minimum of respect to the Compact, but it was the spirits of my home that held my reverence. However, as I have become older, I have found a certain reverence for the Pantheon. I have found my faith in the gods and hold to my faith in the spirits. Where many in the Faith and the Compact see contradiction in that, I see none. It is long past time to let down these artificial walls that separate the one from the other. In ancient times, druids and Sylv'alfar held reverence for both, and called to both spirits and gods in times of crisis. It is a tradition I will uphold. I pray to Petrichor and Mangata and Vellichor, to all of the thirteen, even if one has renounced his godhood.
And I pray for them, for it is a time to test even the spirits and the gods.
The spirit told the caller, 'Sing a song of your world, your soul, and your god,
sing a song of lightning and thunder that we will applaud,
pick a story that fits you and sing it to gods above, without and below,
sing the story of thunder from sea to peak covered in snow,
pick the path that fits you, walk the road mapped in your heart."
I have no deep, dark secrets. I have truths about myself, about the world, that I have hesitated to speak openly. One of them is that I am not what people think. I am not the ideal shaman: I do not invoke the spirits, and for those that do, there is a depth and mystery to their relationship to the spirits that I can never truly understand. I am not as upstanding or flawless as some think: I have worked with Cardians and others that many in the Compact find distasteful, and I will again. I am not all-knowing, as some appear to believe: In times like these, I am as clueless and as desperate as anyone.
I did not walk the path of the Stormbringers, as the song once guided shamans to become. But I have found the path that fits me, and walked the road mapped in my heart, as the spirits taught. I will follow it as far as I am able. I only hope that it will be enough.
The spirit asked the caller, 'How do you see the world? What would you change and amend?'
I see a world of natural beauty. The cold seas of the Mourning Isles, the warm waters of the Saffron Chain, the jungle-like wilds of the Lyceum, the ancient woodlands of the Gray Forest - all have their own unique beauty. Above it all, it is the snowy mountains and ice-capped peaks of my home that will always resonate with me. However, that beauty is a delicate thing. It can be corrupted, despoiled, destroyed. Even the mountains of my home, which came long before me and will be there long after I am gone, are not immune, as the Second Reckoning now threatens to demonstrate. The Abyss will not destroy the mountain itself, but it will destroy that pristine and unsullied wilderness that I have so treasured. It is a world that storms must defend.
The spirit asked the caller, 'Who are you truly? What is your role?'
I am Mirk Halfshav. I have been given titles in Arx, but none define me. In a past life, I was known as Stormcaller, and that is a title that holds more significance. Unlike others, I do not remember that life; I do not remember his name, nor do I know his story. All I know is that the storms considered him kin, that he was a dragonrider, that he bore the Staff of Winds. I suspect he died in some great magic that proved to be too much for him, but I don't know whether it was a battle or something darker. I had always meant to learn more, but those that could tell me of that life were distant. When I finally had the opportunity, it was time for action, not for reminiscing about the past.
I am, at heart, a traveler. I am most at peace with an open road before me, the sky above and the wind at my back. I have strived to learn the stories of the lands and peoples I have encountered, to leave them better than I found them. I have not always succeeded. But circumstances call me to be more than this. I have, in my ways, assumed the mantle of that life. I have bonded the dragon he once called a partner. I carry the Staff of Winds, though it is a shadow of what it once was. I have called to the storms and seen them answer. It is time, it seems, for a Stormcaller.
It is my role to marshal friends and allies to war. Those whose lives I have touched in Arx or are under my authority in House Halfshav and elsewhere. Those beings who answer my call, be they spirit or dragon or otherwise, for reasons of their own, for no being of such age and power responds solely to mortal whims. Those elements that I call mine, the wind and storm and ice that heed my words and have, in some ways, become a part of mine. I am a guardian, one who will march to battle alongside them.
The spirit asked the caller, 'What are your idols? To whom do you pray?"
Gods both Old and Pantheon. I pray to Tempest and Storm, to Blizzard and the Four Winds. I confess that I felt little need for the Faith when I was young. I paid lip service to the Faith, as the bare minimum of respect to the Compact, but it was the spirits of my home that held my reverence. However, as I have become older, I have found a certain reverence for the Pantheon. I have found my faith in the gods and hold to my faith in the spirits. Where many in the Faith and the Compact see contradiction in that, I see none. It is long past time to let down these artificial walls that separate the one from the other. In ancient times, druids and Sylv'alfar held reverence for both, and called to both spirits and gods in times of crisis. It is a tradition I will uphold. I pray to Petrichor and Mangata and Vellichor, to all of the thirteen, even if one has renounced his godhood.
And I pray for them, for it is a time to test even the spirits and the gods.
The spirit told the caller, 'Sing a song of your world, your soul, and your god,
sing a song of lightning and thunder that we will applaud,
pick a story that fits you and sing it to gods above, without and below,
sing the story of thunder from sea to peak covered in snow,
pick the path that fits you, walk the road mapped in your heart."
I have no deep, dark secrets. I have truths about myself, about the world, that I have hesitated to speak openly. One of them is that I am not what people think. I am not the ideal shaman: I do not invoke the spirits, and for those that do, there is a depth and mystery to their relationship to the spirits that I can never truly understand. I am not as upstanding or flawless as some think: I have worked with Cardians and others that many in the Compact find distasteful, and I will again. I am not all-knowing, as some appear to believe: In times like these, I am as clueless and as desperate as anyone.
I did not walk the path of the Stormbringers, as the song once guided shamans to become. But I have found the path that fits me, and walked the road mapped in my heart, as the spirits taught. I will follow it as far as I am able. I only hope that it will be enough.
Written By Mirk
Aug. 23, 2021, 3:54 p.m.(1/27/1016 AR)
I have waited a few days before writing this journal, to give thoughts and memories time to settle. They seem resistant to doing so, arising again whenever I take a moment to rest or relax.
Never have I seen such destruction before.
I have seen terrible things that I would rather forget. At Riverbend, at Highhill, more. Things that I could not begin to detail in a white journal, no matter the circumstances. Never have I seen such wanton destruction without regard for life, nor have I seen such a human toll to their actions. Even if Bastion is repaired, there will be a scar from such deeds, a memory that cannot be erased from the hearts and minds of its residents. We were fortunate that it was not the total slaughter that our enemy seemed to intend, but that's a small comfort when so many died. I will be pledging some of my personal fortune to the rebuilding of Bastion, though it will require more than money to undo some of the harms dealt there.
I was at the harbor, helping to evacuate people from the city by ship. I witnessed the heroism and insight and decisive action against forces that I would not have dared to oppose had I known what I was walking into, and I will hold those who stood beside me in high esteem for the rest of my days. You know who you are. It was a moment that spawned a thousand decisions, from consideration of the path before me to oaths given in the wake of the battle. I don't regret any of those decisions, though I wonder if I have the strength to follow through on some of them.
But more than that, I wonder at the boldness of the action. It was so drastic that it will surely rouse the Compact to the threat, when before many had dismissed him as a mere Shav chieftain. Many will remember things that they should not, though some will forget and others will be dismissed. Did he wish to provoke us for some dark purpose, or does he simply not care? Is it a part of a greater plan, or does he think us too weak for the response to be worth worrying himself about? I'm not sure which scares me more.
People always come to me for advice or insight, but I don't have the answers. I was caught as unprepared as everyone else when the chaos began, all but helpless before the forces arrayed against us. My best efforts only mitigated the damage, and then only a little.
But I know one thing: He isn't finished.
I will not remain idle until he acts again.
Never have I seen such destruction before.
I have seen terrible things that I would rather forget. At Riverbend, at Highhill, more. Things that I could not begin to detail in a white journal, no matter the circumstances. Never have I seen such wanton destruction without regard for life, nor have I seen such a human toll to their actions. Even if Bastion is repaired, there will be a scar from such deeds, a memory that cannot be erased from the hearts and minds of its residents. We were fortunate that it was not the total slaughter that our enemy seemed to intend, but that's a small comfort when so many died. I will be pledging some of my personal fortune to the rebuilding of Bastion, though it will require more than money to undo some of the harms dealt there.
I was at the harbor, helping to evacuate people from the city by ship. I witnessed the heroism and insight and decisive action against forces that I would not have dared to oppose had I known what I was walking into, and I will hold those who stood beside me in high esteem for the rest of my days. You know who you are. It was a moment that spawned a thousand decisions, from consideration of the path before me to oaths given in the wake of the battle. I don't regret any of those decisions, though I wonder if I have the strength to follow through on some of them.
But more than that, I wonder at the boldness of the action. It was so drastic that it will surely rouse the Compact to the threat, when before many had dismissed him as a mere Shav chieftain. Many will remember things that they should not, though some will forget and others will be dismissed. Did he wish to provoke us for some dark purpose, or does he simply not care? Is it a part of a greater plan, or does he think us too weak for the response to be worth worrying himself about? I'm not sure which scares me more.
People always come to me for advice or insight, but I don't have the answers. I was caught as unprepared as everyone else when the chaos began, all but helpless before the forces arrayed against us. My best efforts only mitigated the damage, and then only a little.
But I know one thing: He isn't finished.
I will not remain idle until he acts again.
Written By Mirk
July 19, 2020, 5:33 p.m.(9/8/1013 AR)
Wait. People are competing for a token that will allow them to participate in a folly?
Willingly?
Willingly?
Written By Mirk
Jan. 4, 2020, 7:52 a.m.(7/2/1012 AR)
High Shaman Drea Redrain. Vala Khanne Halfshav. Lord Danvir Ravenseye. Duke Kaldur Crovane. Lord Jyri Whitehawk. Baroness Acantha Clearlake. Lord Vano Rivenshari. Leonaess Valeux. Lady Mikani Crovane. Duchess Fianna Crovane.
These are my people, the Spirit Walkers. I might be on a different path than some of them, but I will always remember the fellowship I shared with them at the Stone Grove, their earnest efforts to heal what had withered: Lord Jyri clearing those plants that had died, cutting away so that new life could come forth. Others planting seeds to replace what was lost. The ringing of the bells, strung up in the High Shaman's rituals so many months ago now. Lady Mikani and Lady Fianna on their first outings as Spirit Walkers, becoming one of us in their deeds as much as their words. And, of course, the prayers and the offerings, each shaman asking for the aid of the spirits so that the Grove might be green once more.
There are smaller moments, I'm sure, contributions to the whole that I missed because I was occupied elsewhere at that moment, but I like to think that I have a memory of each of you to carry forwards.
The rest of the Spirit Walkers, those of you who were not present for the planning or the rituals: You still helped. Your efforts have built the support and the connections that made this day possible.
Archlector Brigida of Petrichor. Archscholar Sina Godsworn. Duke Aiden Rubino. Sister Sophie Valardin.
Each one brought the blessings and the wisdom of the Pantheon to the Stone Grove, in their own fashion. Some through their prayers, some through the work of their own hands. We found common ground with the Faith of the Pantheon here, for the Stone Grove is sacred to both shaman and Godsworn, and together we accomplished something beautiful.
Prince Darren Redrain. Vincenzo Villente. Petal Penrose. Cillian Weatherwood.
Neither Spirit Walker nor representative of the Faith, still you made your presence felt at the Stone Grove. Your reasons are different, as each of you came to this effort from different perspectives. Whatever your reasons, you still supported us. Your contributions will be remembered.
Thank you all.
These are my people, the Spirit Walkers. I might be on a different path than some of them, but I will always remember the fellowship I shared with them at the Stone Grove, their earnest efforts to heal what had withered: Lord Jyri clearing those plants that had died, cutting away so that new life could come forth. Others planting seeds to replace what was lost. The ringing of the bells, strung up in the High Shaman's rituals so many months ago now. Lady Mikani and Lady Fianna on their first outings as Spirit Walkers, becoming one of us in their deeds as much as their words. And, of course, the prayers and the offerings, each shaman asking for the aid of the spirits so that the Grove might be green once more.
There are smaller moments, I'm sure, contributions to the whole that I missed because I was occupied elsewhere at that moment, but I like to think that I have a memory of each of you to carry forwards.
The rest of the Spirit Walkers, those of you who were not present for the planning or the rituals: You still helped. Your efforts have built the support and the connections that made this day possible.
Archlector Brigida of Petrichor. Archscholar Sina Godsworn. Duke Aiden Rubino. Sister Sophie Valardin.
Each one brought the blessings and the wisdom of the Pantheon to the Stone Grove, in their own fashion. Some through their prayers, some through the work of their own hands. We found common ground with the Faith of the Pantheon here, for the Stone Grove is sacred to both shaman and Godsworn, and together we accomplished something beautiful.
Prince Darren Redrain. Vincenzo Villente. Petal Penrose. Cillian Weatherwood.
Neither Spirit Walker nor representative of the Faith, still you made your presence felt at the Stone Grove. Your reasons are different, as each of you came to this effort from different perspectives. Whatever your reasons, you still supported us. Your contributions will be remembered.
Thank you all.
Written By Mirk
Nov. 24, 2019, 8:29 p.m.(4/5/1012 AR)
It's a shame to see the last snow of winter begin to melt. Spring is a special time, one that brings hope and renewal, but winter has always reminded me of home.
There's an austere beauty in a pristine layer of white snow on the ground. There's something about the bitter cold in the air. Sure, it's uncomfortable, but it forces you to attend to your surroundings. Whether it's to keep your hood high or to hurry to your destination, it keeps you in the moment, when all too often we walk through life but lost in our thoughts, preoccupied with the many concerns that Arx places before us.
Or maybe that's just me.
Either way.
Spring will bring fresh sights, and fresh challenges. But I wouldn't have minded if the snow stuck around a little longer.
There's an austere beauty in a pristine layer of white snow on the ground. There's something about the bitter cold in the air. Sure, it's uncomfortable, but it forces you to attend to your surroundings. Whether it's to keep your hood high or to hurry to your destination, it keeps you in the moment, when all too often we walk through life but lost in our thoughts, preoccupied with the many concerns that Arx places before us.
Or maybe that's just me.
Either way.
Spring will bring fresh sights, and fresh challenges. But I wouldn't have minded if the snow stuck around a little longer.
Written By Mirk
Oct. 16, 2019, 11:51 a.m.(1/10/1012 AR)
I was going to say something about the first snows of winter, how pristine the world looks in those few minutes before the snow is marred with footprints...but it seems like I'm about the tenth person to get there. So instead, I think I'm going to sit down at the edge of a snowbank with my hip flask. That sounds like a good way to spend an afternoon.
I always have liked winter.
I always have liked winter.
Written By Mirk
Oct. 13, 2019, 9 p.m.(1/5/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Hadrian
I'm not convinced that Lord Arik feels pity. If he gave you a prize, it was because you deserved it. And perhaps because he hoped that next time, if I compete, you'd steal the title from me so that I couldn't remind him of my victory at opportune moments. We can never neglect the self-serving motives here.
So congratulations, my lord. You deserved it, and it was a pleasure to have such strong competition at the Beards and Brews.
Congratulations to Lady Carita and Lady Mabelle as well. Fake or not, their beards were most impressive.
So congratulations, my lord. You deserved it, and it was a pleasure to have such strong competition at the Beards and Brews.
Congratulations to Lady Carita and Lady Mabelle as well. Fake or not, their beards were most impressive.
Written By Mirk
Oct. 6, 2019, 7:14 p.m.(12/19/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Preston
The simple truth is that at any time, there are more causes than people have silver, and so an event raises the topic and keeps it at the forefront of peoples' minds. The right event can even sweep people along with the spirit of the occasion, and convince them to part with more money than they would have otherwise.
Written By Mirk
Sept. 21, 2019, 7:45 p.m.(11/16/1011 AR)
I never thought I'd be glad to see Arx again. When I first came to this city, I found it too loud, too crowded, and not at all to my tastes. I didn't care for remaining here month after month, gathering weeds about my feet.
I still don't care for the city. It becomes too smothering at times, and at times I need to be away from it. Fortunately, my duties require the occasional trip to the Northlands or elsewhere.
But still, there's a certain relief at returning here to Arx, and the familiar sight of Halfshav Hall. Perhaps it's finally starting to become home, a little.
I still don't care for the city. It becomes too smothering at times, and at times I need to be away from it. Fortunately, my duties require the occasional trip to the Northlands or elsewhere.
But still, there's a certain relief at returning here to Arx, and the familiar sight of Halfshav Hall. Perhaps it's finally starting to become home, a little.
Written By Mirk
Aug. 25, 2019, 8:49 p.m.(9/18/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Amari
Chops came in second. I was disappointed, too.
Written By Mirk
July 14, 2019, 5:51 p.m.(6/18/1011 AR)
Why is it that every answer I find leaves me with ten more questions?
Written By Mirk
July 3, 2019, 8:42 p.m.(5/24/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Morrighan
Dame Morrighan has outdone herself. I seldom bother to write in the whites, but she deserves the acknowledgement. I have never spent so much silver on myself, but never have I been as pleased with the results. This is a thing of beauty.
Written By Mirk
June 5, 2019, 5:06 p.m.(3/24/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Cadern
The essential difference between our oaths to the Compact and a writ is that I choose again and again to fulfill my oaths. A vassal, for example, will spend his whole life in the service of his liege. Each time he is called upon to act, he makes the choice anew to honor his oaths instead of raising his banners in rebellion. There would be consequences to rebellion, but that doesn't change that fact that a vassal could choose that course of action.
What the Undying Empire offers is a form of slavery. Once entered into, you cannot violate those terms. You can no longer choose to do otherwise. Instead, all you can do is hope that your master is a kind one. But even if he is, it does not change the nature of the thing.
One is a choice, the other is not. It's the difference between night and day.
What the Undying Empire offers is a form of slavery. Once entered into, you cannot violate those terms. You can no longer choose to do otherwise. Instead, all you can do is hope that your master is a kind one. But even if he is, it does not change the nature of the thing.
One is a choice, the other is not. It's the difference between night and day.
Written By Mirk
April 27, 2019, 9:52 p.m.(1/2/1011 AR)
The first snow of winter is here. It's a special time, one of seeing the world quiet and still, the animals withdrawn to endure the cold, the birds flown south for kinder climates. There's a peace in a field of pristine snow, one that never lasts.
Written By Mirk
April 17, 2019, 3:13 p.m.(12/10/1010 AR)
Life is strange. When everyone else in Arx saw wonder, I mourned for the Stone Grove. My thoughts were dominated by loss, not the hope for better. Now, a week later, the spirits have seen fit to remind me of life and rebirth, and this time I see it. The hope, the wonder. I was slow to learn, but I've seen it, and felt it, and known it.
Sometimes it requires time or repetition for a lesson to sink in. And sometimes it's the smallest blessings that remind us to take joy in the world around us.
Sometimes it requires time or repetition for a lesson to sink in. And sometimes it's the smallest blessings that remind us to take joy in the world around us.
Written By Mirk
April 2, 2019, 3:03 a.m.(11/7/1010 AR)
The melee was an exciting occasion. There was distinctive blend of strategy and chaos to the fights - those I had the attention to follow, at least - that created outcomes I couldn't have anticipated. Still, the North represented itself well, and Brianna made her way into the top ten competitors.
The betting didn't turn out too bad, either.
The betting didn't turn out too bad, either.
Written By Mirk
March 22, 2019, 11:05 a.m.(10/14/1010 AR)
As more news come in, most of it tragic, I have to wonder at the decision these people have made. Faced with real problems - threats along their borders, insults paid to them, at times tragedies that have already struck - they choose to escalate the situation, make the crisis more severe. A skirmish turns into a massacre, a religious backlash becomes full-blown heresy. They have enough reasons to tell themselves that it's the right choice, but the effects of their decisions ripple out and the consequences begin to become clear, and their problems have only increased.
This is a time that requires careful deliberation and thoughtful decisions. Both seem to be in short supply. But then, I suppose I have the luxury of perspective, here in Arx, learning of the worst of this crisis only through messengers and reports.
This is a time that requires careful deliberation and thoughtful decisions. Both seem to be in short supply. But then, I suppose I have the luxury of perspective, here in Arx, learning of the worst of this crisis only through messengers and reports.
Written By Mirk
March 1, 2019, 10:57 a.m.(8/28/1010 AR)
After thought, meditation, and a few conversations with those around me, I decided to accept the title of Elder of the Spirit Walkers. The title still sounds strange beside my name, as it's something that belonged to Cybele alone when I arrived in Arx. I will not attempt to fill her shoes, as she was a person of singular wisdom and she cannot be replaced. Instead, I will serve the Spirit Walkers in my own way, building up the organization she helped to create and, just as important, supporting the people in that organization.
I still feel too small for the role, like a child donning his parent's shoes. I considered saying no. But I went through this same struggle when I was a young man, questioning whether or not to call myself a shaman, whether I deserved to claim that title. I had been traveling for some years, then, and had spoken to many shamans along the way. In that time, I had grown from a supplicant seeking knowledge to a peer discussing our shared calling. Without even noticing, I had become comfortable making offerings on another's behalf, or asking the wisdom of the spirits for a small village or tribe that had no shaman of their own. In other words, I had become a shaman, somewhere along the way.
It would feel strange to debate that question now. Of course I'm a shaman. I've grown into that role, and now it fits me like an old pair of boots after I've walked a hundred miles in them. This isn't quite the same. It's not a question of claiming the title, but accepting it, and the Spirit Walkers are localized, also. Its titles don't always carry the same weight outside of our small community. But I'm hopeful that it will one day feel as natural to call myself an Elder of the Spirit Walkers as it does to call myself a shaman.
I can't express how much it means to me that High Shaman Drea and Vala Khanne have such faith in my abilities.
I still feel too small for the role, like a child donning his parent's shoes. I considered saying no. But I went through this same struggle when I was a young man, questioning whether or not to call myself a shaman, whether I deserved to claim that title. I had been traveling for some years, then, and had spoken to many shamans along the way. In that time, I had grown from a supplicant seeking knowledge to a peer discussing our shared calling. Without even noticing, I had become comfortable making offerings on another's behalf, or asking the wisdom of the spirits for a small village or tribe that had no shaman of their own. In other words, I had become a shaman, somewhere along the way.
It would feel strange to debate that question now. Of course I'm a shaman. I've grown into that role, and now it fits me like an old pair of boots after I've walked a hundred miles in them. This isn't quite the same. It's not a question of claiming the title, but accepting it, and the Spirit Walkers are localized, also. Its titles don't always carry the same weight outside of our small community. But I'm hopeful that it will one day feel as natural to call myself an Elder of the Spirit Walkers as it does to call myself a shaman.
I can't express how much it means to me that High Shaman Drea and Vala Khanne have such faith in my abilities.
Written By Mirk
Feb. 1, 2019, 7:45 p.m.(6/28/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Reigna
My answer is probably unsatisfying, but I'll try: Sometimes. The ends can justify the means, depending on the ends and the means. An important end goal justifies small sins, like telling a lie to keep a secret. It should only be done with consideration and care, and you owe it to the people harmed by your actions to make it right. But some things cannot be made right. Oathbreaking, for one. Murder, for another. And as it cannot be set right, it cannot be justified. There are other considerations, I think, but that is the crux of it in my mind.
Written By Mirk
Jan. 11, 2019, 1:06 a.m.(5/3/1010 AR)
I usually avoid wading into the controversy of the week, as I am not involved and therefore it's no business of mine. But this time? I am involved.
The Halfshavs have ruled one of the most remote lands in the Compact. Our lands border the Everwinter, and some of our vassals are so difficult to reach that I would consider hiring a skilled guide if I made the trip. Though I do not speak for my House, I speak from that perspective. The Great Road has brought us closer to the rest of the Compact, and I can only hope that our people will reap the rewards of the trade and communication that entails. Frankly, if Lord Kaldur hadn't approached me about this road, I was planning to do something much like it myself. My plans were for something far more modest, which would never have never been a tenth of the scope of this Great Road, and so I commend Lord Kaldur for his vision.
The Great Road is everything that I hoped for when I offered my support. Yes, there are difficulties that I did not foresee. But that means that it is not the completion of a project, but the beginning of a longer process of resolving our border disputes, untangling the delicate political situations, and reaching an accommodation or enforcing a peace on those Shav tribes that continue to raid along the road even now. All of that will involve problems and complications, some of which I'm sure I still haven't thought of. Those are problems I am willing to address, because the goal is worthwhile.
That is what the road is: the means to an end. Some people didn't have the same ends I did. Some are using it as the excuse to perpetrate massacres, or to start pointless wars. I don't blame the road for that, I blame the people. They have their reasons, I'm sure, but for the life of me I can't understand them.
I can't control their actions. All I can do is work to make the most of this opportunity, and try to realize the potential in what we have built, so that this road continues to be a boon to my House and my people. And maybe a boon to everyone else, too. But that's out of my hands.
The Halfshavs have ruled one of the most remote lands in the Compact. Our lands border the Everwinter, and some of our vassals are so difficult to reach that I would consider hiring a skilled guide if I made the trip. Though I do not speak for my House, I speak from that perspective. The Great Road has brought us closer to the rest of the Compact, and I can only hope that our people will reap the rewards of the trade and communication that entails. Frankly, if Lord Kaldur hadn't approached me about this road, I was planning to do something much like it myself. My plans were for something far more modest, which would never have never been a tenth of the scope of this Great Road, and so I commend Lord Kaldur for his vision.
The Great Road is everything that I hoped for when I offered my support. Yes, there are difficulties that I did not foresee. But that means that it is not the completion of a project, but the beginning of a longer process of resolving our border disputes, untangling the delicate political situations, and reaching an accommodation or enforcing a peace on those Shav tribes that continue to raid along the road even now. All of that will involve problems and complications, some of which I'm sure I still haven't thought of. Those are problems I am willing to address, because the goal is worthwhile.
That is what the road is: the means to an end. Some people didn't have the same ends I did. Some are using it as the excuse to perpetrate massacres, or to start pointless wars. I don't blame the road for that, I blame the people. They have their reasons, I'm sure, but for the life of me I can't understand them.
I can't control their actions. All I can do is work to make the most of this opportunity, and try to realize the potential in what we have built, so that this road continues to be a boon to my House and my people. And maybe a boon to everyone else, too. But that's out of my hands.
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