Written By Santi
May 6, 2021, 2:20 a.m.(6/4/1015 AR)
It struck me tonight as I finished the last letters to the loved ones of the Malvici troops who died on the fields outside of Pieros and sipped from my mug thinking of how some mourn and others celebrate..
Only the dead have seen the end of war, For the rest of us..
we await the next.
Only the dead have seen the end of war, For the rest of us..
we await the next.
Written By Santi
April 24, 2021, 1:33 p.m.(5/9/1015 AR)
Addition to my will since I forgot.
Given the genteel nature of my cousin Eirene and her love for refinement I gift her with my shelf and collection of bottles and glass pieces.
Given the genteel nature of my cousin Eirene and her love for refinement I gift her with my shelf and collection of bottles and glass pieces.
Written By Santi
April 24, 2021, 1:21 p.m.(5/9/1015 AR)
As the war on the horizon draws closer I got told I need a fucking will.. so here it is.
If recovered my rubicund armor shall go to my cousin Lord Martino Malvici, While he might not be able to swing a damn sword he should at least have something to protect his scrawny ass from them.
My leather bird of prey armor meanwhile shall go to my cousin Apollis, Nimble little shit should do well enough with it.
Theadora my beautiful and young eagle of course belongs no where else but with her namesake, Lady Thea Wyvernheart. So she always has someone to talk to and knows the plight of her relatives all these years.
My Kopis will return to the house and be delivered to the General and Duchess Calypso, To do with as she damned well pleases.
My mug and mistress shall be delivered to Princess Reese Grayson, as thanks for training me in my past and for being a friend.
My eagle Fibula, my stash of ouzo, and the remaining balance of my accounts belong to that fucking redheaded Baroness Calla Vaevici to assist in the growth of a house she cares for deeply and her hopes for the Caldera.
And that dear scholar is my damned will. Not that I plan on dying but you know how plans can sometimes go.. Sometimes they get fucked.
If recovered my rubicund armor shall go to my cousin Lord Martino Malvici, While he might not be able to swing a damn sword he should at least have something to protect his scrawny ass from them.
My leather bird of prey armor meanwhile shall go to my cousin Apollis, Nimble little shit should do well enough with it.
Theadora my beautiful and young eagle of course belongs no where else but with her namesake, Lady Thea Wyvernheart. So she always has someone to talk to and knows the plight of her relatives all these years.
My Kopis will return to the house and be delivered to the General and Duchess Calypso, To do with as she damned well pleases.
My mug and mistress shall be delivered to Princess Reese Grayson, as thanks for training me in my past and for being a friend.
My eagle Fibula, my stash of ouzo, and the remaining balance of my accounts belong to that fucking redheaded Baroness Calla Vaevici to assist in the growth of a house she cares for deeply and her hopes for the Caldera.
And that dear scholar is my damned will. Not that I plan on dying but you know how plans can sometimes go.. Sometimes they get fucked.
Written By Santi
April 18, 2021, 11:35 a.m.(4/25/1015 AR)
I've come across plenty of whites talking about abandoned and prodigal alike.
People offering their views both good and bad on the people who bent the knee or who haven't.
To those who treat the prodigals and abandoned as shit to be wiped off the bottom of their boots.. Know this, Everything we do is watched.
The gods see us, they watch us and know. They see how you treat your betters, they witness how you treat those beneath your station.
And one day we all answer for how we treat others. The gods know.. And to pretend they do not isn't a foolish act it is an act of deceiving yourself with delusions of your own grandeur.
The gods know..and the gods sure as fuck care.
And they expect more from us.. they expect us to do better..
People offering their views both good and bad on the people who bent the knee or who haven't.
To those who treat the prodigals and abandoned as shit to be wiped off the bottom of their boots.. Know this, Everything we do is watched.
The gods see us, they watch us and know. They see how you treat your betters, they witness how you treat those beneath your station.
And one day we all answer for how we treat others. The gods know.. And to pretend they do not isn't a foolish act it is an act of deceiving yourself with delusions of your own grandeur.
The gods know..and the gods sure as fuck care.
And they expect more from us.. they expect us to do better..
Written By Santi
April 7, 2021, 11:26 a.m.(4/3/1015 AR)
Alright scholar.. what in the mother of fuck gives!?
The last few days people keep smiling at me and waving.
At first I thought maybe it was to someone behind me..
But even when alone it's happening.. What the hell happened
when out scouting bars for Thea's crawl today? Did I save someone!?
Did I tell someone to get fucked others wouldn't?
Why..the waves and smiles.. There must be something to it..
Or they are all plotting my murder and don't want me to catch on.
The last few days people keep smiling at me and waving.
At first I thought maybe it was to someone behind me..
But even when alone it's happening.. What the hell happened
when out scouting bars for Thea's crawl today? Did I save someone!?
Did I tell someone to get fucked others wouldn't?
Why..the waves and smiles.. There must be something to it..
Or they are all plotting my murder and don't want me to catch on.
Written By Santi
April 6, 2021, 9:21 a.m.(3/28/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Calypso
If any ever doubts we are related they only need spend a few minutes in our company together.
Written By Santi
April 4, 2021, 2:14 p.m.(3/25/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Domonico
My cousin recently offered to put proper etiquette and social matters into military terms for me.
I am not sure I needed it, My gift for one who had their name day was well received and they only /nearly/ managed to injure a servant. I view this as a battle that has been won.
I am not sure I needed it, My gift for one who had their name day was well received and they only /nearly/ managed to injure a servant. I view this as a battle that has been won.
Written By Santi
April 4, 2021, 1:57 p.m.(3/25/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Eirene
It has gone too many days without writing of this scholar.
My dear cousin Eirene has gone genteel.
My dear cousin Eirene has gone genteel.
Written By Santi
April 3, 2021, 2:25 p.m.(3/23/1015 AR)
I think this month in the city holds more parties than Southport has had in the last year.
I am surprised they aren't having a party for all the damned parties.
I am surprised they aren't having a party for all the damned parties.
Written By Santi
April 3, 2021, 12:21 a.m.(3/22/1015 AR)
This last week has been one of reflection and of strengthening old bonds forging them anew.
I wonder what the next will bring.
I wonder what the next will bring.
Written By Santi
March 1, 2021, 12:30 a.m.(1/12/1015 AR)
I have arrived in the city, glad to be off that boat.
My first stop was at the black fox with Thea.
An impromptu celebration of her betrothal.
At least once I finally heard of it and met the
man who will take her as his wife.
A few new faces met, and a few drinks had
I quickly found myself heading for the manor
eager to clean off my travels and as Thea put
it my musk.
And now for bed, the day comes early and
so does a friendly spar with her husband to be.
And after, a search through the city for someone
to make me new armor.
My first stop was at the black fox with Thea.
An impromptu celebration of her betrothal.
At least once I finally heard of it and met the
man who will take her as his wife.
A few new faces met, and a few drinks had
I quickly found myself heading for the manor
eager to clean off my travels and as Thea put
it my musk.
And now for bed, the day comes early and
so does a friendly spar with her husband to be.
And after, a search through the city for someone
to make me new armor.
Written By Santi
Jan. 16, 2019, 11:43 a.m.(5/16/1010 AR)
Reflections on growing hair.
I suppose I have no legitimate reason to continue shaving my head daily. I am no longer in the field, do not have to worry about the omnipresent threat of parasites, grime, or overly bored compatriots with malicious nocturnal dying habits. Still, such worries have been replaced by their own forms of anxiety. If I no longer keep shorn, where will it all end? Baldness has become a rote process to me now; I wake, I shave. I start at my chin and work my way up. If I change this, how will I know when to stop? At the ears? The temples? Will I end up with some great, foot high crest like some sort of demented rooster; or will I find myself only attending to the parts I can see easily - resulting in a formal clip in the front and long, albeit festive, locks in the back? Perhaps I will forgo shaving altogether - but what then? Shall I be relegated to naught but a pair of eyes peering out from within a luxurious globe of fiber? Will the knitting guild suddenly take an interest in me and being pursuing me at all ends? Shall I awaken in the middle of the knight to find a gaggle of courtly ladies clustered about my bed, commenting on color, texture, thickness; complimenting the staple length... Actually... wait...
I suppose I have no legitimate reason to continue shaving my head daily. I am no longer in the field, do not have to worry about the omnipresent threat of parasites, grime, or overly bored compatriots with malicious nocturnal dying habits. Still, such worries have been replaced by their own forms of anxiety. If I no longer keep shorn, where will it all end? Baldness has become a rote process to me now; I wake, I shave. I start at my chin and work my way up. If I change this, how will I know when to stop? At the ears? The temples? Will I end up with some great, foot high crest like some sort of demented rooster; or will I find myself only attending to the parts I can see easily - resulting in a formal clip in the front and long, albeit festive, locks in the back? Perhaps I will forgo shaving altogether - but what then? Shall I be relegated to naught but a pair of eyes peering out from within a luxurious globe of fiber? Will the knitting guild suddenly take an interest in me and being pursuing me at all ends? Shall I awaken in the middle of the knight to find a gaggle of courtly ladies clustered about my bed, commenting on color, texture, thickness; complimenting the staple length... Actually... wait...
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