Written By Ringvald
Jan. 22, 2020, 9:11 p.m.(8.387257771164021/15.686435185185186/1012.6156048142636 AR)
It has been some time since I've written anything here, my hands had been disabled.
Firstly, in my haste for improving relations in the city I had made the mistake of nearly becoming betrothed, I didn't understand the customs here and promptly had to withdraw due to inadequacy of my post. I had made a foolish error after never having received such attentions, and gave into them far too easily. I will resume alone as I am meant to be, as not to interfere with my work.
Then I joined an expedition, we were going to a field to search for something, some relic in an old battleground. I thought it would be interesting and historically relevant, though I didn't expect to see hostile spirits and swarms of mankilling bees. I am no warrior, though I can say I'm not a coward, in an attempt to help I burned my cloak, using it to take down the bees like a flaming net, though between that and the stings my hands were and still are quite unsightly. I have opted to wear gloves from now on, nobody wants to see these hands less than I, it's for the best.
Finally, we are working on a project to enhance the possibility of growing in the Clearlake Hold, I'm unsure how it will go, so I will write of this at a later date.
~Lord Ringvald Clearlake
Firstly, in my haste for improving relations in the city I had made the mistake of nearly becoming betrothed, I didn't understand the customs here and promptly had to withdraw due to inadequacy of my post. I had made a foolish error after never having received such attentions, and gave into them far too easily. I will resume alone as I am meant to be, as not to interfere with my work.
Then I joined an expedition, we were going to a field to search for something, some relic in an old battleground. I thought it would be interesting and historically relevant, though I didn't expect to see hostile spirits and swarms of mankilling bees. I am no warrior, though I can say I'm not a coward, in an attempt to help I burned my cloak, using it to take down the bees like a flaming net, though between that and the stings my hands were and still are quite unsightly. I have opted to wear gloves from now on, nobody wants to see these hands less than I, it's for the best.
Finally, we are working on a project to enhance the possibility of growing in the Clearlake Hold, I'm unsure how it will go, so I will write of this at a later date.
~Lord Ringvald Clearlake
Written By Ringvald
Dec. 27, 2019, 9:14 p.m.(6/15/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Sunaia
During my activities in the market place, I checked on how and where our furs were sold, their prices, attempting to get a grasp on our situation in order to better perform my duties. Amongst traders of the arts, jewelry, the finest arms and armor, I never expected the kind of treasure one could find.
A Platinum Angel causing a textile merchant to quake in his boots, even now I don't understand how she could have caused fear to him, or any of those around us.
A simple question of customs lead to a drink of tea, an unexpected but welcome development, I learned something important, I do not like black tea. I discovered though that the taste was hardly important, she was odd, fascinating, I didn't ask a fraction of the questions that came to mind, but what had been asked for was far different than I expected.
Children, a husband, a means to carry on her family. The customs here required blood over merit, and as I offered to help her find such a suitor, she instead asked for me. At the time I couldn't measure up those feelings, no, I suppose I still can't. It was a happiness I did not expect, I've never put my time into women, there was no call for it, and I was happy with that.
She was panicking, giddy, eccentric, and normally I dislike many of these things, but there was something to her, I didn't doubt her intelligence. Instead of annoyance, I found myself... Entranced, she was pleasant, freeing even.
She's above my station, of similar interests, pleasing to talk to as well as look at, neither of us can leave out families, we share ideals and aspiration. Now that I sit here at home I understand those stares that she gave me when I said yes, I only wish I could return them, or that I could form the words in my mouth that I can put to paper.
I read about this in some of the novels from the city over the years, love at first sight, preposterous I thought.
I was wrong.
The benefits exist, surely, but it's the side effects, the little things that confirm this feeling.
-When I took her home I felt sick to my stomach, but was rectified immediately afterwards.
-I smile for no reason, originally I thought I had some form of psychological issue.
-I think about the things I could have said or done to be better, I never get caught on the past.
-When I tried to write her name, I instead wrote Platinum Angel.
I am both terrified of this and excited, but for now I will rectify my writing before.
The name I meant to write was Sunaia Ashford, my betrothed.
A Platinum Angel causing a textile merchant to quake in his boots, even now I don't understand how she could have caused fear to him, or any of those around us.
A simple question of customs lead to a drink of tea, an unexpected but welcome development, I learned something important, I do not like black tea. I discovered though that the taste was hardly important, she was odd, fascinating, I didn't ask a fraction of the questions that came to mind, but what had been asked for was far different than I expected.
Children, a husband, a means to carry on her family. The customs here required blood over merit, and as I offered to help her find such a suitor, she instead asked for me. At the time I couldn't measure up those feelings, no, I suppose I still can't. It was a happiness I did not expect, I've never put my time into women, there was no call for it, and I was happy with that.
She was panicking, giddy, eccentric, and normally I dislike many of these things, but there was something to her, I didn't doubt her intelligence. Instead of annoyance, I found myself... Entranced, she was pleasant, freeing even.
She's above my station, of similar interests, pleasing to talk to as well as look at, neither of us can leave out families, we share ideals and aspiration. Now that I sit here at home I understand those stares that she gave me when I said yes, I only wish I could return them, or that I could form the words in my mouth that I can put to paper.
I read about this in some of the novels from the city over the years, love at first sight, preposterous I thought.
I was wrong.
The benefits exist, surely, but it's the side effects, the little things that confirm this feeling.
-When I took her home I felt sick to my stomach, but was rectified immediately afterwards.
-I smile for no reason, originally I thought I had some form of psychological issue.
-I think about the things I could have said or done to be better, I never get caught on the past.
-When I tried to write her name, I instead wrote Platinum Angel.
I am both terrified of this and excited, but for now I will rectify my writing before.
The name I meant to write was Sunaia Ashford, my betrothed.
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