Written By Tescelina
Aug. 11, 2019, 3:03 p.m.(8/18/1011 AR)
Sweet Tithonia. Goodnight, my dear. How your last flutters were so beautiful and desperate.
I knew this day would come. You brought yourself to me, lying upon my book as I read by the fire.
A delightful jar was prepared with some very lovely ribbon and you shall slumber in the resin upon the mantle.
Thank you for being my friend.
I knew this day would come. You brought yourself to me, lying upon my book as I read by the fire.
A delightful jar was prepared with some very lovely ribbon and you shall slumber in the resin upon the mantle.
Thank you for being my friend.
Written By Tescelina
Aug. 9, 2019, 1:34 p.m.(8/14/1011 AR)
A rebuttal to the article by Scholar Aboloft’s "In defense of the sundial"
By Lady Tescelina Wyrmguard
I do not consider myself an argumentative person. It is not my nature or the intention of this work to stifle the research done by my peer and fellow astronomer Aboloft. However, in his research on the effectiveness and permanency of the sundial I have become aware of certain comments made in regard to my own research, which I believe, warrants a response. If you do not wish your research challenged, do not challenge others' research.
For starters it is quite a misleading assessment that, ‘the elaborate construction of clockwork makes it ineffective as a means of time measurement’ for it immediately places an impetuous on the easy or the short-cut taking which, alas, plagues much scholarly work. We are not in the business of economics and it should not have any substantive recourse on what is clearly the most precise and effective means of that vaunted art of time keeping.
Furthermore the sundial is designed to read time via the sun, as is known, this places a broad limit of two minutes on accurate time for the shadow of the gnomon cast by the sun is /not/ sharp. Looking from earth the sun is a half degree across making shadows, if nothing else, unreliably blurred at their edges. The actual construction of a sundial, certainly, can be very accurate. The mathematics of its design has been with us since the ancient age. Yet what is old does not always denote what is best, for we are a species ever in pursuit of self-improvement.
Is not the nature of the gods themselves the aspirations for which we strive? Knowing that perfection is out of reach, do we cease its pursuit? I think not.
The installation of a sundial is often the weaker part of the process. It must be aligned true to the sun. Our current means of surveying is limited and even in some future age it may never be wholly precise. We must reckon with the fact that the world itself must be an accurate clock for a sundial to be one and, I must say, I do not believe this to be fact. Those very two minutes of which I spoke earlier show exactly that our own understanding of the observable movements of shadows cannot be relied upon for the precise measurement of time. Two minutes, reader, can be the difference between everything.
We will see the era of the clock, for the knowledge of it has been gifted to us, and each day that we theorize and postulated on that tower which once stood, we wonder and we dream and as a people we process, like the turning of the arms upon that self-same object of precision, that perfect construct of the human perception of motion, we all move in forward motion.
In the next twenty pages I have laid out the calculations showing that the mechanical precision of time is the direction we should be moving and that such, excuse this derogatory term, primitive objects like the sundial must be left behind. I invite my fellow scholars to take note and work with me to see the new dawn of human knowledge.
[There’s a lot of math that follows. It may cause eyes to cross if stared at for too long. So much vindictive math.]
By Lady Tescelina Wyrmguard
I do not consider myself an argumentative person. It is not my nature or the intention of this work to stifle the research done by my peer and fellow astronomer Aboloft. However, in his research on the effectiveness and permanency of the sundial I have become aware of certain comments made in regard to my own research, which I believe, warrants a response. If you do not wish your research challenged, do not challenge others' research.
For starters it is quite a misleading assessment that, ‘the elaborate construction of clockwork makes it ineffective as a means of time measurement’ for it immediately places an impetuous on the easy or the short-cut taking which, alas, plagues much scholarly work. We are not in the business of economics and it should not have any substantive recourse on what is clearly the most precise and effective means of that vaunted art of time keeping.
Furthermore the sundial is designed to read time via the sun, as is known, this places a broad limit of two minutes on accurate time for the shadow of the gnomon cast by the sun is /not/ sharp. Looking from earth the sun is a half degree across making shadows, if nothing else, unreliably blurred at their edges. The actual construction of a sundial, certainly, can be very accurate. The mathematics of its design has been with us since the ancient age. Yet what is old does not always denote what is best, for we are a species ever in pursuit of self-improvement.
Is not the nature of the gods themselves the aspirations for which we strive? Knowing that perfection is out of reach, do we cease its pursuit? I think not.
The installation of a sundial is often the weaker part of the process. It must be aligned true to the sun. Our current means of surveying is limited and even in some future age it may never be wholly precise. We must reckon with the fact that the world itself must be an accurate clock for a sundial to be one and, I must say, I do not believe this to be fact. Those very two minutes of which I spoke earlier show exactly that our own understanding of the observable movements of shadows cannot be relied upon for the precise measurement of time. Two minutes, reader, can be the difference between everything.
We will see the era of the clock, for the knowledge of it has been gifted to us, and each day that we theorize and postulated on that tower which once stood, we wonder and we dream and as a people we process, like the turning of the arms upon that self-same object of precision, that perfect construct of the human perception of motion, we all move in forward motion.
In the next twenty pages I have laid out the calculations showing that the mechanical precision of time is the direction we should be moving and that such, excuse this derogatory term, primitive objects like the sundial must be left behind. I invite my fellow scholars to take note and work with me to see the new dawn of human knowledge.
[There’s a lot of math that follows. It may cause eyes to cross if stared at for too long. So much vindictive math.]
Written By Tescelina
July 23, 2019, 6:27 p.m.(7/8/1011 AR)
What we know above, is adhered below. For does not the sun, in all its glory, bestow light upon the world and thus we must reckon with the scope of its shadow?
[An illustration accompanies these words. It shows the featured sun with a halo of light shining down upon a circle (the world). Dark figures parade around it, dancing, some caught in the space of two lines which are drawn downward forming an inverted triangle. Half of this, the bottom half, is shaded. Unquestionably referencing the shadow as mentioned above.]
Where it is light, somewhere it is dark. Where it is dark -- somewhere it is light. We must, at all times, hold these two thoughts in our minds. The conclusions and calculations of astronomical work is vital in our understanding of a wider scope of existence.
[An illustration accompanies these words. It shows the featured sun with a halo of light shining down upon a circle (the world). Dark figures parade around it, dancing, some caught in the space of two lines which are drawn downward forming an inverted triangle. Half of this, the bottom half, is shaded. Unquestionably referencing the shadow as mentioned above.]
Where it is light, somewhere it is dark. Where it is dark -- somewhere it is light. We must, at all times, hold these two thoughts in our minds. The conclusions and calculations of astronomical work is vital in our understanding of a wider scope of existence.
Written By Tescelina
July 15, 2019, 11:29 a.m.(6/19/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Syd
We met at the Shrine of Gloria, in the wintertime.
You asked me about Queen Alarice and you brought me joy with your reasoning that Alarice the Cleaver is far more formidable a name than the Great. It was a sound argument! Amusement is rare in my heart. It is hard for me. I was glad to have met you. For your kindness.
You cared about others -- such as a young knight who is burdened by her duties, her past. Her failings. You cared for one who brought ruin unto himself -- you still found time to empathize. It is cruel and wicked for many to pit themselves against one, you believed. There is no righteousness to a mob. What a wicked irony.
These actions have drawn me from my stargazing and the world I see reminds me of why I look heavenward. But that is cowardice in a way, to neglect all around me for my own peace of mind. For the dazzling shine of those indifferent stars.
It is the sworn duty of a knight to protect the defenseless. We all have made these oaths.
If you shrink from this because those under threat are not like you, believe in different things, or come from a different walk of life, then you have failed. A knight is a symbol. Our actions are not reflections of the world, but are reflected in the world. If you cannot sustain the weight of that, than you have made an err.
Glory belongs to the righteous, to the world we protect. It is not ours to claim, but to give.
I suppose I cannot ask anything of the knights of the Compact -- Am I not the Knight of Sunflowers? I have failed too. But as I yet live, I will make right the wrongs that I am able by protecting those who cannot protect themselves.
Nothing else matters, what other reason is there to take up a sword, that vaunted instrument of killing, If not in the defense of the helpless? Be the Symbol you swore to become. The world needs the inspiration we provide more than ever.
You asked me about Queen Alarice and you brought me joy with your reasoning that Alarice the Cleaver is far more formidable a name than the Great. It was a sound argument! Amusement is rare in my heart. It is hard for me. I was glad to have met you. For your kindness.
You cared about others -- such as a young knight who is burdened by her duties, her past. Her failings. You cared for one who brought ruin unto himself -- you still found time to empathize. It is cruel and wicked for many to pit themselves against one, you believed. There is no righteousness to a mob. What a wicked irony.
These actions have drawn me from my stargazing and the world I see reminds me of why I look heavenward. But that is cowardice in a way, to neglect all around me for my own peace of mind. For the dazzling shine of those indifferent stars.
It is the sworn duty of a knight to protect the defenseless. We all have made these oaths.
If you shrink from this because those under threat are not like you, believe in different things, or come from a different walk of life, then you have failed. A knight is a symbol. Our actions are not reflections of the world, but are reflected in the world. If you cannot sustain the weight of that, than you have made an err.
Glory belongs to the righteous, to the world we protect. It is not ours to claim, but to give.
I suppose I cannot ask anything of the knights of the Compact -- Am I not the Knight of Sunflowers? I have failed too. But as I yet live, I will make right the wrongs that I am able by protecting those who cannot protect themselves.
Nothing else matters, what other reason is there to take up a sword, that vaunted instrument of killing, If not in the defense of the helpless? Be the Symbol you swore to become. The world needs the inspiration we provide more than ever.
Written By Tescelina
July 8, 2019, 6:28 p.m.(6/6/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Rysen
The Lai of the Bear Slayer. Most curious. I shall have to locate a copy of the verse.
I simply wished to protect those who needed it, as is a knight's duty.
When things are more settled, I will have to return to the lands outside Stormwall. They were beautiful, at least.
Even with such sorrow hanging in the air.
I simply wished to protect those who needed it, as is a knight's duty.
When things are more settled, I will have to return to the lands outside Stormwall. They were beautiful, at least.
Even with such sorrow hanging in the air.
Written By Tescelina
June 12, 2019, 2:59 p.m.(4/10/1011 AR)
I have lost a dear friend of mine. Haeron Knox, I shall miss our correspondence.
Your visits to Arx, during my first year in the city, are cherished memories. You were the only one from home to write to me, you were the only one to come and see me when I returned that first time after --
There is a cemetery on the outskirts of Blancbier where we buried what remained of you -- it was not much.
A pair of spectacles with a cracked lens. Your favorite quill. The homespun pouch in which you carried your academic supplies, with the embroidery of your favorite flowers along the trim. You were very proud to have made it, I thought it very pretty as well.
I explained to your family what had happened, that the deep dark of the wilds is no place for a lone academic.
I write this here in asking for your forgiveness. I was not quick enough to save you and though you are avenged, what a bitter sweetness it leaves. What a peculiar sting. How I ache and how I wept.
Before I departed, I remembered your last words in that missive. 'I forget whose turn it is to buy the pies.'
It was mine and so I left you one; peach cobbler, our mutual favorite. May its scent find you in Elysia.
May this small thing be a measure of comfort. I shall do better next time. I'm sorry.
Your visits to Arx, during my first year in the city, are cherished memories. You were the only one from home to write to me, you were the only one to come and see me when I returned that first time after --
There is a cemetery on the outskirts of Blancbier where we buried what remained of you -- it was not much.
A pair of spectacles with a cracked lens. Your favorite quill. The homespun pouch in which you carried your academic supplies, with the embroidery of your favorite flowers along the trim. You were very proud to have made it, I thought it very pretty as well.
I explained to your family what had happened, that the deep dark of the wilds is no place for a lone academic.
I write this here in asking for your forgiveness. I was not quick enough to save you and though you are avenged, what a bitter sweetness it leaves. What a peculiar sting. How I ache and how I wept.
Before I departed, I remembered your last words in that missive. 'I forget whose turn it is to buy the pies.'
It was mine and so I left you one; peach cobbler, our mutual favorite. May its scent find you in Elysia.
May this small thing be a measure of comfort. I shall do better next time. I'm sorry.
Written By Tescelina
May 26, 2019, 7:55 p.m.(3/4/1011 AR)
The knight I served under as a squire was named Sir Dax and he was very old. He was the only one who would take me under his wing, the others did not much believe in me. I was too bookish for some, too quiet for others, or not physically strong enough for a few.
He did, always, believe in me. Even when I was very silly. I remember when we first met, I was nine, and he sat across from me at a small table in his bulky old armor and he held his teacup very gently in his gauntlet-clad hand while I poured him a drink. He said,
"Thank you, Lady Lina." Then he asked, "Have you ever been afraid?"
"My mother once told me a story about a goblin who ate books. He ate them all up, page by page, and he would be very sneaky and hide in the chimney of the library so no one could catch him. Then at night, before the fire was made, he'd sneak out and hide and eat more books. This story is very scary to me. I was very afraid of our library at night after she told it."
"What did you do?"
"I was only a little afraid of the dark, because I do adore the stars, so I crept to the library one night and I took the iron from the fireplace rack and I stood in front of the hearth and waited for the goblin. I was only going to scare him, of course. I didn't want to bash him or anything. But he was being very bad and I knew I had to do something about it, even if I was afraid. My hands shook."
"What happened then?"
"I fell asleep in my watch, in front of the fireplace. But, of course, no books were eaten. My father carried me to the lounging chair and put a blanket over me. When I awoke, I counted them all. The books."
"You must have frightened him off!"
I leaned close and whispered to him conspiratorially, "Sir Dax, I do not believe there was truly a goblin. But if there was, just in case, I had to do something about it -- those books could not protect themselves, after all."
"/Squire/ Lina," he said with a smile that lifted his whiskers and I surely made a very wide-eyed face, "We shall see what kind of Oathlands knight you become some place down the road. For now, we have much work to do. Much work."
He did, always, believe in me. Even when I was very silly. I remember when we first met, I was nine, and he sat across from me at a small table in his bulky old armor and he held his teacup very gently in his gauntlet-clad hand while I poured him a drink. He said,
"Thank you, Lady Lina." Then he asked, "Have you ever been afraid?"
"My mother once told me a story about a goblin who ate books. He ate them all up, page by page, and he would be very sneaky and hide in the chimney of the library so no one could catch him. Then at night, before the fire was made, he'd sneak out and hide and eat more books. This story is very scary to me. I was very afraid of our library at night after she told it."
"What did you do?"
"I was only a little afraid of the dark, because I do adore the stars, so I crept to the library one night and I took the iron from the fireplace rack and I stood in front of the hearth and waited for the goblin. I was only going to scare him, of course. I didn't want to bash him or anything. But he was being very bad and I knew I had to do something about it, even if I was afraid. My hands shook."
"What happened then?"
"I fell asleep in my watch, in front of the fireplace. But, of course, no books were eaten. My father carried me to the lounging chair and put a blanket over me. When I awoke, I counted them all. The books."
"You must have frightened him off!"
I leaned close and whispered to him conspiratorially, "Sir Dax, I do not believe there was truly a goblin. But if there was, just in case, I had to do something about it -- those books could not protect themselves, after all."
"/Squire/ Lina," he said with a smile that lifted his whiskers and I surely made a very wide-eyed face, "We shall see what kind of Oathlands knight you become some place down the road. For now, we have much work to do. Much work."
Written By Tescelina
May 14, 2019, 3:44 p.m.(2/8/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Delilah
The harvest moon to my winter moon, an equinox to my solstice.
I could become lost in metaphor but let this footnote be simply thus; that I cherish each moment allowed in the occultation of the duchess's presence.
A true and gracious companion in the pursuit of starry mystery.
This knight is ever humbled and grateful.
I could become lost in metaphor but let this footnote be simply thus; that I cherish each moment allowed in the occultation of the duchess's presence.
A true and gracious companion in the pursuit of starry mystery.
This knight is ever humbled and grateful.
Written By Tescelina
May 12, 2019, 3:36 p.m.(2/4/1011 AR)
I sat at the bank of a river and watched a young girl break ice with a mallet and pour the water into a bucket and carry it back up from the hill from which she came, the way the ice broke into floes like islets was fascinating to me.
I went down and took one of the shards and held it in my hand until it melted into a puddle as though I watched the life cycle of an entire Dream. I thought, as it occurred, perhaps the ice woke up.
It was a soft demise.
The girl returned with an empty bucket and she asked me what I was doing and that I had made the hem of my dress wet from how close I went to the river and that I would freeze, if I were not careful.
I asked her if she hated the ice, when she struck it with the mallet. Or if she ever wondered if it regretted turning back to water.
She said, "Its only ice, m'lady. I just wanted the water underneath."
It was a pleasant encounter.
I went down and took one of the shards and held it in my hand until it melted into a puddle as though I watched the life cycle of an entire Dream. I thought, as it occurred, perhaps the ice woke up.
It was a soft demise.
The girl returned with an empty bucket and she asked me what I was doing and that I had made the hem of my dress wet from how close I went to the river and that I would freeze, if I were not careful.
I asked her if she hated the ice, when she struck it with the mallet. Or if she ever wondered if it regretted turning back to water.
She said, "Its only ice, m'lady. I just wanted the water underneath."
It was a pleasant encounter.
Written By Tescelina
April 27, 2019, 8:09 p.m.(1/2/1011 AR)
Relationship Note on Raven
Wishing we could tell ourselves from those bygone days that they will endure those aches, those hardships; that they will survive. It is something I know.
The next chapter of your journey lays ahead of you, yes. Perhaps even frought with peril. But I know, in my heart of hearts, that you shall do wonderful things, Raven, my dear friend.
The next chapter of your journey lays ahead of you, yes. Perhaps even frought with peril. But I know, in my heart of hearts, that you shall do wonderful things, Raven, my dear friend.
Written By Tescelina
March 30, 2019, 9 a.m.(11/1/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Willow
I thought to write to you for the permissions, but then I thought as well that others may have the same inquiry. For which I say, that I am blessed that you have found my research worth while and of course, all that I do, I do for the sake of spreading knowledge. Take what you will. And anything you find needs further elaborated on, we could arrange a meeting.
You must let me know what you think as well, yes.
You must let me know what you think as well, yes.
Written By Tescelina
March 29, 2019, 10:28 a.m.(10/27/1010 AR)
An endeavor far beyond my means but I have dreamed of a clock-tower which would be able to, with the proper knowledge, keep the time of various lunar and celestial movements.
An astronomical clock.
What a splendid thing that would be, yes.
To free my mind a bit of all these oscillations of numbers and measurements of movement.
What a pleasure, to lay down burdens for a time.
Perhaps someday.
An astronomical clock.
What a splendid thing that would be, yes.
To free my mind a bit of all these oscillations of numbers and measurements of movement.
What a pleasure, to lay down burdens for a time.
Perhaps someday.
Written By Tescelina
March 29, 2019, 10:24 a.m.(10/27/1010 AR)
[Included within this journal entry are planetary tables, which calculate the position of the planets in the sky as seen at various latitudes in Arvum. The calculations are very precise and its clear the recorder of these documents grew tired from the amount of times that they had to be scrapped and redone in an effort to insure accuracy, for the hand which writes it goes weary over time. They are thus accredited to Scholar Milous for the documenting itself and the astronomer whom brought the information: Lady Tescelina Wyrmguard.]
- Tables Charting and Predicting Planetary Alignment by Lady Tescelina Wyrmguard, as recorded by Scholar Milous
- Longitudinal and Latitudinal tables calculating positions of constellations by Lady Tescelina Wyrmguard, as recorded by Scholar Milous
- Tables Charting and Predicting Planetary Alignment by Lady Tescelina Wyrmguard, as recorded by Scholar Milous
- Longitudinal and Latitudinal tables calculating positions of constellations by Lady Tescelina Wyrmguard, as recorded by Scholar Milous
Written By Tescelina
March 8, 2019, 3:55 p.m.(9/14/1010 AR)
It is important to record thoughts. They pass as vapors. A breath carries all the things we forget.
I have not been to Arx since I was a small girl and much has changed. They built an observatory, I'm told. How wonderful. I have always loved to look and listen to the stars. So very rich are their thoughts.
So very strange.
The carriage passed through a tremendous marketplace and I saw many faces. I saw their sweat creeping on their brows and I saw, in my mind you see, the vines of muscles which bunch up under all that skin.
Such marvelous things. We are. Yes. Such secret little mechanisms.
But I grow tired now. I will retire to the window. I will think on things. It is -- nice, yes. Nice to be here.
I have not been to Arx since I was a small girl and much has changed. They built an observatory, I'm told. How wonderful. I have always loved to look and listen to the stars. So very rich are their thoughts.
So very strange.
The carriage passed through a tremendous marketplace and I saw many faces. I saw their sweat creeping on their brows and I saw, in my mind you see, the vines of muscles which bunch up under all that skin.
Such marvelous things. We are. Yes. Such secret little mechanisms.
But I grow tired now. I will retire to the window. I will think on things. It is -- nice, yes. Nice to be here.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.